The age gap between Christian and Isabella is bigger, by a lot. Christian is two decades older than Isabella! So Dorothea marrying the heir isn't too outlandish, especially since it would unite the claims.Matches with bigger age differences have been made. In fact if I'm not mistaken Dorothea's parents have a bigger age difference. And it could avert a civil war.
Catherine’s pregnancy got me anxious. I hope she gets to have a little boy named John. Catherine deserves to have a little boy named John for all the trouble she’s going through carrying him.Whitehall, England. 14th of November, 1522.
Bearing a child was no easy thing, and Catherine, Queen of England knew that very well. It was a taxing and exhausting effort, sucking off most of her energy as her body worked to grow the child within her. She had been pregnant many times before, had given birth many times. To her, her seventh pregnancy should have no different than the rest, especially in regards to her bearing Mary, and yet she felt as if she was experiencing these things for the first time, or that they had somehow gotten worse over the years.
Although the physicians and midwives predicted she would give birth in early February, her nausea had not subsided with the quickening and there were very few things she could eat with the certainty that she would not retch it all later. The child made her acquire an intense penchant for venison and because of it, her beloved husband often went on hunting trips to make sure the kitchens were well stocked for her.
And she was exhausted all the times. Her condition sucked all of her energy off and she had been rather inclined to spend all of her days in bed, sleeping and resting instead of attending to her ceremonial duties as queen. She was so tired that she could not do a pilgrimage to thank God for this blessing or pray as often as she wanted to. Catherine spent most of her time in bed, drinking warm milk and resting, trying to gather her strength. The days that she did attend court were monotonous and caused her to doze off in midconversation, almost offending the people around her.
But she felt that she did not offend anyone. Perhaps because of her age or her state, the nobles were more likely to indulge her, chuckling at her apologies, and telling her there was nothing to worry about. And her ladies were all incredibly helpful, fretting around her like frightened hens, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. Everyone feared another stillbirth or miscarriage.
Catherine knew this was her last chance to have a son. At thirty-seven, her pregnancy was nearly a miracle, a result of her constant prayers, and she would not waste this chance. The first few months were filled with fear. During the day she watched her every step, careful not to trip or run into something, always keeping one hand over her middle and another at her side, ready to catch herself if she ever fell. As the weeks passed, however, and the baby continued to grow inside of her, moving and kicking with all the strength of a bonny boy, her anxiety began to lessen.
A midwife attended to her twice a week, an insistence of Henry. She had helped at least a dozen boys be born in the past decade, and even more healthy girls, and was highly respected. Elizabeth Matthos, she was called, had prescribed a concoction of milk, ale and boiled vegetables to help strengthen her and the child and had terrified most of her ladies with her orders of respect for the Queen’s wishes.
But Catherine rather liked her. She found it reassuring to have someone tell her that it was alright to want to sleep all day, or to help her find something that she could eat without problems.
At five months, she felt huge and bloated, much more than she did the last time she was pregnant. Dr Linacre and Elizabeth thought she would be giving birth to twins, or at least to a very large baby, but Catherine did not let herself hope. Once, they thought she would be having twins, the first time she was pregnant, but when the time came, she gave birth to only one stillborn daughter. Catherine would not survive if something like that happened to her again.
Although she loved Mary, Catherine would be lying if she said she did not hope for a son, a son to inherit his father’s throne and this was her last chance. She had to give birth to a boy, a boy who would survive and make the kingdom safe, or else all will be for nought.
And Henry was so attentive to her, always visiting her and making sure that she did not tire her self. He was more willing to indulge her lately, sleeping in her bed at night to press a hand to her belly and feel the baby moving within her, kissing her face as he told her how much he loved her, how happy he was.
But they disagreed on one subject, the most important subject of them all: the baby’s name.
“I don’t see what is wrong with John,” she told him at night when their heads were laying together, and he had a hand to her swollen stomach, “It’s a good Christian name. Why can’t we name him John, my love?”
Henry sighed, “You know how I hope to bring back my ancestors’ Angevin Empire. Why would I name my son after the Lackland?”
She pressed a hand to his chest, “You wouldn’t. You would be naming him after his uncle, my brother, and our common ancestor. John of Gaunt was a great man, Harry. Why should we not name our son after him?”
“My heir will be named either Edward or Henry, I haven’t decided yet,” he said and then sighed again, “But if the physicians are right and you are carrying twins, then our Duke of York may be called John.”
She surged up, beaming, “Do you promise?”
He smiled and kissed her, “Yes, my love. I promise.”
It is actually, though in a lot of cases, it’s probably a better ending than what she got in OTL. Better Catherine dies beloved and happy than hated and disgraced.Plus killing off Catherine is so frequent on this board, my eyes are getting twitchy in almost every thread she appears at this point.
Plus killing off Catherine is so frequent on this board, my eyes are getting twitchy in almost every thread she appears at this point.
My aim with any TL that I write is to ensure that (if she is even born) Catherine dies old and (relatively) happy. Same with Anne Boleyn.It is actually, though in a lot of cases, it’s probably a better ending than what she got in OTL. Better Catherine dies beloved and happy than hated and disgraced.
I agree, Catherine deserves a happy ending. Though I am not an Anne Boleyn fan so she can get either a happy or bad ending.My aim with any TL that I write is to ensure that (if she is even born) Catherine dies old and (relatively) happy. Same with Anne Boleyn.