An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V
- Thread starter pandizzy
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Sixteen is perfectly normal for the time. I know why people don't like teen pregnancy in general/modern terms, but it drives me up the wall when people complain about it in fics/TLs set in the era we're discussing. Childhood as a concept came to an end so much quicker than we're used to nowadays. A sixteen year old was a woman, not a girl, and had been since her twelfth birthday, legally speaking. Now, I'm not saying I go out of my way to have thirteen year old mothers in my stories, but anything from fourteen onwards is fair enough, as long as it seems natural within the story itself.
Sorry, rant over. As you were.
I usually have 15 as my minimum age. 14 is usually the exception.Sixteen is perfectly normal for the time. I know why people don't like teen pregnancy in general/modern terms, but it drives me up the wall when people complain about it in fics/TLs set in the era we're discussing. Childhood as a concept came to an end so much quicker than we're used to nowadays. A sixteen year old was a woman, not a girl, and had been since her twelfth birthday, legally speaking. Now, I'm not saying I go out of my way to have thirteen year old mothers in my stories, but anything from fourteen onwards is fair enough, as long as it seems natural within the story itself.
Sorry, rant over. As you were.
If people only knew that the Virgin Mary would be around 11-13 years old when she gave birth... because she was an "adult" at that time. A woman's adulthood was defined by her "first bleed" from her, if she is "fit" to get pregnant, she is a woman, not a girl... that's how it was at that time.Sixteen is perfectly normal for the time. I know why people don't like teen pregnancy in general/modern terms, but it drives me up the wall when people complain about it in fics/TLs set in the era we're discussing. Childhood as a concept came to an end so much quicker than we're used to nowadays. A sixteen year old was a woman, not a girl, and had been since her twelfth birthday, legally speaking. Now, I'm not saying I go out of my way to have thirteen year old mothers in my stories, but anything from fourteen onwards is fair enough, as long as it seems natural within the story itself.
Sorry, rant over. As you were.
At least, for the middle ages, it was rare to consummate marriages under 14 years of age, but in some places they did not care or for political reasons they were consummated before (to access the dowry money, or get an heir, among other reasons )...
Well, before our contemporary age, women actually had their first periods later. 14 was rather common to have your first period. even 16 or 17. Girls today have it earlier because we're eating much richer food, and with a lot more hormones too.
Eh, it’s easy to see why people don’t like it: as a general rule, people don’t like to dwell on the more nasty aspects of day-to-day life in the past. As one example, no film or TV show about Ancient Egypt has ever featured FGM, even though it’s an historic fact that it was performed there back then.
People can tolerate ’unusual’ examples of past horrors, like sieges or massacres. But they find it harder to deal with being reminded that even normal life in past societies could be pretty horrible.
Being uncomfortable is certainly understandable. However, the thing that many people simply fail to realize is that something bad happening in a story isn't an endorsement of that practice by the author.
Oh, absolutely.
It’s something that frequently chives my spuds, when people who write Axis Victory TLs have to do those ‘I am not a Nazi’ disclaimers. Like…can we not just assume that?
I have fifteen as a minimum (usually with an older bride and a younger groom), but I will sometimes go earlier (I don’t think I’ve ever needed to). After all the Virgin Mary was only about 14-16 when she gave birth to Jesus. Obviously, I don’t condone such behavior in minors (I’m relatively prudish in general), and the whole idea of a child being a parent is gross. But 16 isn’t unheard of today. I was homeschooled, so such an idea amongst my friends was horrific, but my public schooled friend found a pregnancy test in the middle school bathroom and, if I remember correctly,y, the girl had the child and gave it up for adoption.
I wasn't "worried' because of applying modern norms. I was worried, because as far as I can tell (as someone who's been under constant gyn-ob supervision since my menarche, because my periods have always been... problematic), having children at 16 is dangerous to the mother, biologically (not everything is fully mature yet)
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Oh absolutely - that’s a big part of why the modern era has lower rates of death in childbirth.
True. My king's grandmother would have lived if she has gotten antibiotics. She died in 1920 at the age of 37.
30th of April, 1540.
Cassiobury Park, England. 30th of April, 1540.
“Do you see there?” the King asked her, pointing to a manor far off in the horizon. “That’s Albanestou. It’s a property of St Albans’ Abbey.” Kitty stretched on the tips of her toes to see better, wanting to know exactly where the King was pointing. “The lands we are in belong to the manor and the Abbey. My father made a gift for them when I was born, to give thanks for a male heir.”
Kitty frowned, turning to her husband. “Can we stay here then, Your Majesty? If the lands are not ours.”
“I’m the King, Kitty,” her husband said with a laugh and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I can stay wherever I wish to stay.”
“Of course,” she said. The King clutched her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.
“But the Abbey was just, and charitable,” he continued, walking slowly through the park with her by his side. Kitty curled her arm around his, wanting to burrow close. The King was over six feet tall, whereas she could barely crack five feet. It made her look like a child next to him, though she didn’t really care. Kitty liked that her husband was so tall, whereas she was so small. She felt protected by it, by their status and by his magnitude. “The lands here are rich in berries, rabbits and so much else. The Abbey gave right to the people of Watford to hunt and forage here if they wished, as long as there was a need.”
They walked alone, as the King enjoyed teasing and tricking their companions, starting to run while tugging at her hand to leave them all behind. It allowed them a measure of privacy, and companionship, before they were eventually found again by upset and sweaty friends.
“What would we be without the abbeys and the monasteries?” Kitty wondered out loud. “Their good work is commendable.”
“It truly is,” said John. His hair shone as the sun it it, stuffed under a large feathered hat, glowing like precious rubies and gold. “Thomas Cromwell has been grumbling about some of the monasteries being corrupt, though, that they need a strong hand to rein them in.”
“You have a strong hand, my king!” Kitty exclaimed. “You have the strongest hands in the entire world.” He chuckled, stopping to look at her. His hands were soft when they stroked her face, coming to cup her chin.
“You are kind to think so highly of me,” he said, then shook his head. “Sometimes, I fear I will never measure up to the man that you see.”
“You are the man that I see, Sire,” Kitty said. “You are the only man in my eyes.”
He smiled and pulled her into a deep kiss, his hands dropping to her waist to hold her closer. Kitty giggled against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. The King’s kisses always left her breathless and wanting more, especially when he pushed her against a large tree and his hands moved to tug fistfulls of her skirts.
“I want you,” he whispered, moving his hand to cup her chest.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Kitty said, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Here?”
“Yes, here,” the King responded, his cheeks flushed. “Oh, Kitty, what better place to conceive our son than in the English countryside, with the Lord’s open skies hanging above us?”
She didn’t know what to answer, only that someone more responsible would have told him to wait until the night. Someone more Christian. And Kitty was not that someone. She wanted to give her consent freely, to kiss him back and have him there, but something stopped her. A cold drop upon her cheek, sliding down her face, and the Lord’s skies were no longer open.
Rain. Kitty turned up to look and saw as the sudden shower began, taking them both by surprise. The King breathed out a curse that would have made her blush in any other moment, and Kitty started laughing, taking advantage of the moment to run off. She clutched her skirts in one hand, another moving up to prevent her French hood from being lost. Cold water fell in heavy and quick drops around them and the King barked out, “Oi! Where are you going?”
She only laughed. Water infiltrated her clothes, clinging to her skin and she ran back from where they came, seeing the tall structures of their tents rising in horizon. John ran behind her and Kitty could see their attendants staring at them, faces wide in horror at the informality from their king and queen. They had been enjoying the English countryside, far away from their tents and procession when it started raining, and now, they were both at risk of ruining their precious velvets and silks.
“Come back here, you minx!” John screamed behind her and Kitty laughed, picking up her pace. It was all a game to her, a foolish game of children that was born from something else entirely, and she was having such fun.
The King was taller than her and, even with her head start, he reached her quickly, pulling her by the waist. Kitty giggled, as they stuttered together like a two-headed beast to the tents and the safe protection from the rain. John let her go much reluctantly when their attendants swarmed them both from all sides, eager to strip them from their wet clothes and try and salvage what they could.
She had stepped behind a screen, a large square cut of brown linen separating the two sides and Kitty was down to her kirtle when the King returned, wearing only a red robe and his inner shirt. He waved impatiently at their companions. “Leave us, all of you!” But Kitty didn’t know where they could go, because the rain was strong, and unforgivable. And their tent, the largest in the procession, was rather isolated. They had decided to stay there, close to the park and the abbeys rather than bother anyone in the village with sheltering their large numbers. It was only for one day.
He kissed her then, pulling her close and tugging at her grey kirtle with his impatient hands. Kitty could only giggle, and laugh breathlessly when he tugged at her legs and pulled her into his arms, holding all of her body as if it weighed nothing. Her husband was the greatest man in the entire world.
“Everyone can hear!” she half-heartedly protested as he pressed a flurry of kisses to her neck and chest.
“Let them,” the King replied as he disrobed, pulling her to the feathered bed. “I want the entire world to know how much I love and desire my wife.” Kitty laughed and kissed him back, drunk with love.
--
Vienna, Austria. 2nd of May, 1540.
“Liesl, please, get away from that window!” the Queen of Hungary cried out, fanning herself desperately. “You stress me endlessly with all that staring.”
“Forgive me, mama,” Liesl said, stepping away. She was merely trying to see if she could see papa coming back, eagerly awaiting his return. He had not said when he would return when they said their goodbyes, and none of his letters mentioned a possible date, but Liesl could not keep herself from waiting. She loved her father and she missed him dearly. She missed Maximilian too. Her little brother had been allowed to go with papa to Trent, because he was a boy and their cousin Juan was going too.
But her poor mother was of the mind that being near a window would make her fall off, or catch a chill. And Liesl, though always obedient, did not want to cause more stress for her mother when she was so heavy with child. Her stomach was swollen and her feet ached her so terribly that she needed to stay in bed for most of the day, surrounded by people trying to entertain her. Liesl stayed with her too, and Anke when she could, though more often than not, her little sister was more willing to be with the Bullen sisters than their mother. And the others were too young to attend to the Queen.
She sat next to her mother's bed, observing the Queen. Her face was pale, her hair a light shade of blonde and Liesl knew that the physicians were worried for her health with so many pregnancies. Her own aunt, the Empress, had died from utter exhaustion after giving birth so many times. And Liesl didn't want her mother to die.
"It's nice," her mother said, "Being here with you.” She smiled. “Especially since we won’t be able to do this for much longer.”
Liesl blanched. “What?” she asked. “Why?”
“Because you will soon go to Poland, silly,” said her mother. “You will turn fifteen soon, and the agreement with King Sigismund was to send you when you were sixteen. That’s just a year away.”
“Oh.” Liesl turned away. “I didn’t know it was so close.” Although she had known Poland was her destiny, Liesl had never truly expected for it to claim her so quickly. She thought she would have more time. More time at being a little girl, and a daughter and sister, instead of a wife and mother. She looked at her mother, her swollen belly.
“You were hardly a babe when the agreement was made,” her mother commented and she frowned when she saw the look on her face. “It is a woman’s duty to marry whom her father chooses, my love.” The Queen placed her hand on the curve of her stomach. “This discomfort is how we serve the realm.”
“I know,” Liesl said, her fingers clutching her skirts. “I’m just nervous about it.”
“Other women have done it,” her mother replied. “And we will send you with experienced ladies who will help you and stand by your side when you conceive a child with Zygmunt August.” Her mother smiled. “Men go to war, but you and I, we have royal wombs. Childbed is our battlefield. We must face it with a stiff lip.”
“I know,” Liesl repeated. “I know and I will.” Her mother smiled then, a larger smile than before and Liesl could only hope that everything would work out in the end.
Lovely scenes! I don't know if it was inspired by it, but the scene between John and Kitty kinda reminded me of the scene in The Tudors where Kitty dances in the rain in the courtyard
And hopefully Anne doesn't end up like her sister in law or Aemma in HotD...
And hopefully Anne doesn't end up like her sister in law or Aemma in HotD...
It was actually inspired from a scene in a movie from the 70s called Henry VIII and his Six WivesLovely scenes! I don't know if it was inspired by it, but the scene between John and Kitty kinda reminded me of the scene in The Tudors where Kitty dances in the rain in the courtyard
Lynne Frederick was my first choice for Kitty's face claim.
John and Kitty are such a young couple in love and I seriously enjoy every moment of their court and romance. Also, if Zygmunt August has any brains, he’ll appreciate Liesl and the danger she’s bound to put herself in for Poland.