The Sunne in Splendour: A War of the Roses Timeline
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
Bruh... I was hoping he'd call her Maisie rather than Margaret, it seems like something he'd call her when he's unhappy with her.
Oh no.
Anyway.
I do wonder how quickly Edward IV will move in terms of securing Maisie and Blanche. And if the rest of the Lancastrian nobility are about to be extinguished completely.
Well, as horrible as it was for Westminster, it sure tied things neatly together for the Yorks.
They still need to settle everything for the peace time, but basically, there's little standing between them and victory.
A lot of them have either switched sides or might have died during the battle.
October 1474.
October 1474. Chichester Cathedral, England.
Maisie Stewart paced around the dark and dinghy basement, hands in her mouth as she anxiously bit at her own nails. They had been in sanctuary for over a month, ever since the news came of her husband’s defeat and death in battle, and she hadn’t yet decided what to do.
Blanche was now heir to the Lancastrian cause, but she was only four. And a girl at that. Who would fight for her rights? How could she even reach somewhere that would take them in until her daughter was old enough to rule on her own? Who would be a good husband to her? She had no desire to travel to France, nor did she have the means to do so, when they would simply hand her daughter over to the Yorkist Queen Marguerite. She hadn’t talked to James since her wedding and even if she had, Maisie doubted he’d risk the wrath of Edward of York to shelter her and her daughter. No, she would have to find somewhere else. Someone else to champion her daughter’s rights as sole Queen of England.
But who? Not for the first time, Maisie cursed herself for not producing a son. After her husband died, she had fooled herself into believing she was carrying another one of his children, perhaps a son to remind her of him, but she wasn’t. Her courses came on time with a bitter wave of cramps in her lower abdomen.
She stopped walking and took a deep breath. The Lord had seen fit to give her only a daughter and she would not let it deter her. Maisie needed only time to have an idea and be able to reach out to the Lancastrians that were surely still out there. She took another deep breath and came to the straw cot pushed closed to the wall, where Blanche peacefully slept, her thumb inside her mouth.
Maisie chuckled and removed her slack hand from her mouth, mindful of the damage suckling her thumb could do to Blanche’s teeth. She pressed a kiss to her forehead, stroking her bright red hair. Her daughter was a very beautiful young girl and would only grow more and more beautiful with time. This might help endear the European kings to her cause. The Lord only knew how men preferred women and young girls to be seen rather than heard.
"I love you, my sweet Queen,” she whispered. “I will not let anyone harm you, I swear it.” Blanche moved, lips parted to let out her sour baby breath and Maisie stood up in alarm at the sound of footsteps coming to her.
John Doget, the Archdeacon of Chichester said she could stay in there and that no harm would come to her or Blanche, but Edward of York might have seen fit to force his hand to gain control of his great enemy’s widow and daughter. Or maybe, he had come to give them food and clothes. Either way, she ought to receive the incoming person with focused attention.
The door to the basement opened and a cloaked figure entered, tall and thin. Maisie stepped forward as she observed the lights from the candle creating shadows beneath the visitor, her mouth parted in a silent greeting as the person’s pale long-fingered hands came to push their hood back. A face of pale perfect skin and wide blue eyes was exposed to her, the auburn hair coifed into tight buns at the side of her head and Maisie stepped forward even more, breathing out her sister’s name.
Mary wrapped her arms around her and they embraced warmly, after more than five years without seeing each other. The sweet smell of her sister brought tears to Maisie’s eyes and she felt a weight lift itself off her chest, a weight she didn’t even know was there and she took a deep breath free from any constraints.
When they stepped back, Mary cupped her cheeks and pressed a kiss to her forehead, wiping away her tears with her thumbs. “Oh, Maisie,” said Mary. “I have missed you so much.”
“Mary, how long it has been,” said Maisie. She took her sister’s hands from her face, tightly holding to her fingers. “But what are you doing here?”
Mary took a deep shuddering breath and licked her pink lips. “I have been sent by King Edward and Queen Magdalena,” she said carefully. “They wish to make peace with you.”
“Peace?” Maisie asked. She stepped back, letting go of Mary’s hands. “Will they recognize my daughter as the sole rightful ruler of England and place her on the throne of her grandfather?”
“Maisie,” said her sister, “You know very well they won’t, but the Queen has come up with an offer that would bring an end to all this fighting between York and Lancaster in a way that is pleasing to all parties involved.”
Maisie closed her eyes and nodded. “Very well,” she said. “What is the offer?”
“Your daughter, Blanche the last of the Lancasters would wed the King’s eldest son, Prince Edward of Wales, heir to the House of York,” Mary murmured. “This would unite the two branches of the Plantagenet Dynasty and bring an end to the issues of the succession. There would be peace and your daughter will be Queen of England, with her eldest son set to inherit the crown after his grandfather and father.”
“Marry Blanche to the son of my husband’s great enemy?” Maisie asked, already shaking her head. “It would go against everything Edward believed in. I would be betraying his memory if I did so!”
“Please, Margaret, be reasonable!” Mary shrieked in frustration. “Your husband’s army rots in the field, Jasper Tudor sits in chains in Wales, the Beauforts are all dead. There are none who will help you now that your husband is dead.”
Maisie shook her head. “My daughter is betrothed to the Dauphin of France…” she started, but Mary simply raised a hand to stop her.
“King Louis has already made peace with King Edward,” she said, “And broken the betrothal between your daughter and his son. He intended only to use the Lancasters as a way to reclaim the Norman cities he had given Edward for his marriage to Louis’ sister, as well as Calais, which he already did.”
“No, you’re wrong,” she insisted.
“I’m not and you know I’m not,” said Mary. “Louis de France never intended to help you at all. No one in Europe would do so. Every ruler in the land recognizes Edward of York as the rightful King of England and he will remain as such until his death.”
“Maybe he will,” Maisie retorted, tilting her chin up in defiance, “But my daughter will never marry his son.”
Mary shook her head. “The forty days where you are entitled to sanctuary will end tonight, Margaret,” she said. “After that, King Edward can demand your life and that of your daughter. I’m here to offer you a choice.” She took a deep breath. “Either Blanche marries Edward of Eltham or she and you will be forced to join a convent, for neither can produce children that may claim the throne for the Lancasters.”
“He wouldn’t…” Maisie started.
“He would,” said Mary. She stepped forward and grabbed her hands. “Please, Maisie. Accept this marriage offer.”
“Blanche and Edward of Eltham are related within the forbidden degree,” she said.
“They are second cousins once removed,” Mary replied with a roll of her eyes, “And King Edward can petition the Pope for a dispensation. His Holiness will grant it, I’m sure, since that will be the start of an era of peace in England.”
Maisie stared at her sister. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why are you betraying me, your sister?”
Mary pressed her lips together until they were set in a thin and tense line. “I must be loyal to my lord and husband,” she said, “And King Edward has arranged a marriage for his daughter and my namesake with our Scottish nephew, the Duke of Rothesay. Joan, my youngest daughter, will go with her so she can marry the son of the Earl of Lothian.”
“There is no Earl of Lothian,” Maisie replied. She had no knowledge of a Scottish peer with that title.
“There is now,” said Mary. “Thomas of Clan Kerr has been given the honour and his son Andrew will marry my Joan, while my Philippa will marry the son of the Earl of Northumberland. It’s the hope of King Edward that the two sisters may keep the peace in the border.”
“So this is why you are doing this? For peace?”
“Of course!” Mary replied. “Must I wish for thousands of others to die just so your daughter can be Queen, when all know that her husband will rule in truth, a husband that can attack our homeland? Is it so wrong for me to try and broker peace, to see my niece crowned next to Edward of Eltham with a family and joys of her own? Is that truly so bad?”
“Yes!” Maisie replied, tears burning her eyes. She pressed her palm to her forehead, already feeling a headache beginning to pulse inside of her skull. “If I do this, I will never forgive myself.”
“But will you forgive yourself when you fail to put Blanche on the throne because of your stubbornness?” Mary asked. “When your husband’s line dies out with her, knowing very well that you could have prevented this outcome?” Maisie only looked at her.
They both already knew what the answer would be.
Margaret took a deep shuddering breath and nodded. “Tell your King that I accept his offer,” she said. “Blanche will be Edward of Eltham’s Queen.”
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Oui oui though I don't think I'll be able to make use of the Tudor rose since their children will be from the York dynasty, instead of a removed new house that needs a new emblem.
I really love Mary in this. Being a loyal and loving wife to Richard, a cunning player in politics and making the best for her own daughters. And Maisie is soooo precious and strong in her own right. King Edward and Queen Blanche has a really good ring to it!
Awww poor Maisie, I am however glad that her sister convinced her to make the sensible choice, so at the very least her grandchildren will rule over England...