The Sunne in Splendour: A War of the Roses Timeline
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
I cannot remember, but wasn't it decided that Edward IV was blonde (at least in this tl)? If so, might Bradley James (aka Prince Arthur) fit better? 
Daniel Sharman is not that fair haired after all
Daniel Sharman is not that fair haired after all
a lot of people have told me that he was actually dark-haired so I'm not going towards a line of dark blonde or darkening blonde hairI cannot remember, but wasn't it decided that Edward IV was blonde (at least in this tl)? If so, might Bradley James (aka Prince Arthur) fit better?
Fair enough!a lot of people have told me that he was actually dark-haired so I'm not going towards a line of dark blonde or darkening blonde hair
Maybe for Henry VI you could use Voici Hetel, from Britain’s Bloody Crown? He did a good job portraying him IMO
i have a problem with britain's bloody crown because the guy doing the documentary clearly has a bias against henry vi. he cant stop calling the guy imbecile, stupid, other things.
True, Dan Jones also glossed over a lot of the complications with the English succession. Though he doesn’t come across as biased in his book in the Wars of the Roses.
Richard Madden could do a good job as Dickon.
Bradley James fits the general George look I see thrown around.
I concur, though Henry seemed too wimpy at the execution. He wasn't *that* opposed to death.
I like Richard as Richard (lol), but one thing that really bothered me in Medici was that Bradley James looks older than Daniel Sharman, who is supposed to be his older brother
June 1466.
June 1466. London, England.
The line began in the early hours of the morning, stretching endlessly over the streets of the capital, and by noon, Madeleine was sure that she had seen more than a thousand people pass by her. Still, she stayed at the gates of the castle, handing out bread and coin to those who came, untiring in her endeavours. Her cousins and ladies, Gabrielle and Jeanne de Bourbon, were behind her, giving sacks of flour and grains to those who passed by them.
“Here it is,” Madeleine said as she gave the donations to the poor. She made sure to touch their hands and look all of them in the eye, trying to commit every face to memory, “Go with God.”
The war had ravaged the land and many of the people had been thrown into poverty. What she gave to them was not much, only what Baron Rivers had allowed to be taken from the treasury and the kitchens, but for some, it would be the first thing they’d eaten in days. When she handed out the coins, they stared at them in wonder, as if it had been a long time since they last saw such little money.
“God bless you, Queen Madeleine,” some said, raising their hands as if to bless her, while others proclaimed, “Never before have we had such a loving queen.” She doubted it, but still, she smiled, thanking them for the kind words and continuing to hand out her donations.
She stayed in the gates of Westminster until the afternoon and then, only after much pleading by her ladies, and her own retinue to return to the castle. Her stomach rumbled in hunger, her having only eaten a little during the entire day, and her legs were trembling as they ached and pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She didn’t even want to look at her ankles, sure they were swollen beyond her imagination.
Madeleine was exhausted. She pressed two fingers onto her temples, feeling a headache coming in. She was ready to have a small meal and then go straight into bed. Sleeping sounded like a great idea.
But she was shocked to see Edward in the corridor just outside her room and, conveniently, the nursery. He was talking to a tall man she did not recognize, who had black hair and a hooked nose, while, to their side, stood Magdalene’s wet nurse, bouncing the baby in her arms.
“Ah,” said Edward when he noticed her. The man and the wet nurse bowed to her but said nothing as her husband walked in her direction, “My charitable queen. How were the donations? Did you help many people today?”
“More than I thought possible,” she answered and looked at the strange man, so close to her infant daughter, “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t believe we have met.”
It was Edward who answered, “This is Martin Goring, our new imperial ambassador.”
Martin Goring bowed, with a smile on his thin lips, “Your Grace, what an honour it is to meet you. We heard many things about you in Vienna.”
“I hope good things only,” murmured Madeleine. Then, she looked at Edward, expecting an explanation.
“You may go now, sir, we will speak later.” The ambassador nodded and left after another bow. Edward also waved away the wet nurse, who returned to the nursery with her charge. Madeleine nodded to Gabrielle and Jeanne who trailed behind her, letting them know that they should go to her rooms without her.
“Why were you speaking with the imperial ambassador?” she asked boldly once they left. Edward sighed and placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her to her rooms, “And why did you need our daughter to be present?”
“The ambassador wanted to be certain of her good health and disposition before he wrote a report to the Emperor,” explained Edward, “She was here with him for nothing more than a few minutes before you arrived. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Why would he need to be certain of her good health?” asked Madeleine. She was tired of these games, talking around it. All she wanted was a clear and direct answer from the King.
He stopped in front of the closed door of her chambers and removed his hand from her back.
“Because the Emperor has a young son,” said Edward at last, “A son that may very well become Emperor himself someday. And I intend for Magdalene to be his empress.”
“But she’s just a baby,” Madeleine answered. She knew her daughter would eventually be betrothed to someone powerful, but she had hoped this would only happen when Magdalene was older, maybe even ready for marriage. To talk about her infant daughter in such language when she couldn’t even walk yet brought her quite the discomfort.
“I’m not saying she will marry the Archduke tomorrow,” he explained, tilting his head slightly as he spoke, “The King of Scotland has written to me that as soon as he comes of age, he shall kick Marguerite and her bastard out of his castles. They will need somewhere to go and with the bastard soon to be of marriage age, I need to make sure they can’t go to someone powerful. With the Emperor’s son betrothed to our daughter, I know he will never dare to give shelter to them.”
“But must Magdalene be the price we pay?” she asked, “The Emperor has a young daughter. Archduchess Helene. Surely, she could marry Richard, no? And settle the alliance that way.”
Edward smiled. “So to save your daughter from a young betrothal, you’d choose a six-year-old to be my brother’s bride?” He laughed.
Madeleine felt herself blush in embarrassment, her cheeks burning.
“What is the agreement with Austria?” she asked, “When would she need to go?”
“Our current agreement is that she will be sent at twelve to the imperial court, allowing Frederick to oversee her education and have her become accustomed to the court and her new family. She and Archduke Maximilian will be married when she turns fourteen, with a consummation set for after her sixteenth birthday.” He stroked her cheek, “Don’t worry. Magdalene will be well. She is my own dear daughter and I would never do anything to harm her.”
So, I shall have only twelve years with my child?, Madeleine wanted to ask. Instead, she said, “She will be sent at sixteen. When she turns twelve, Frederick will send us an imperial highborn lady to serve as her governess and teach her german as well as the culture of Austria. There will be a proxy marriage when she is fourteen.”
“This isn’t a negotiation, Madeleine,” said Edward, with a careful smile on his face.
“She will be sent at sixteen,” she repeated. He arched an eyebrow, “I can’t trust the Habsburgs to not break our agreement.” She thought she would die if they married Maximilian, seven years older than her daughter, to Magdalene as soon as she arrived in Vienna as were her fears. It would certainly be her death.
“Thirteen,” he offered.
“Fifteen.”
“Fourteen,” he said. Madeleine sighed. She knew she would not go farther than this.
“Very well,” she said, though she still didn't feel entirely satisfied, “Magdalene will leave for Vienna at fourteen.”
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