#Counts of Anjou

[medievalandfantasymelee]

THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE

QUALIFYING ROUND: 140th Tilt

Adhemar, Count of Anjou, A Knight's Tale (2001) VS. Sir Bowen, Dragonheart (1996)

Propaganda

Adhemar, Count of Anjou, A Knight's Tale (2001) Portrayed by: Rufus Sewell

“Okay, I get it, he's a terrible person. He cheats at jousting, he's mean to his herald, he ranks women somewhere below trophies and horses. But reader, I DON'T CARE. I can't help it. I admit that when I was younger (and perhaps more sensible) it was all about William/Ulric and his charming smile. But Adhemar... I would commit CRIMES for this man. Those eyes, the cheekbones, the glower! Do I think I could fix him? No. But, god, we could make each other worse!”

Sir Bowen, Dragonheart (1996) Portrayed by: Dennis Quaid

“Alright, here is why Bowen from Dragonheart is hot: He's an honorable English knight from Camelot, but he fights like a badass Japanese sword master (because they hired a real one to train the actor!). He's got that big, beautiful Dennis Quaid smile that makes his eyes go all crinkly cute. And then with the perfect beard and hair? Hot!”

Additional Propaganda Under the Cut

Additional Propaganda

For Adhemar:

[Photoset]

[Gifset]

For Sir Bowen:

No Additional Propaganda Submitted

[cy-lindric]

Went back to episode 1 to do some screencaps before I keep going and I have to say, as a certified Bussy hater, that goth Bussy IS a serve. I admit I'd just not thought of him that way. I get it now. I get it.

This long faced Henri is everything. Absolute borzoi phenotype. I think I would do crimes for him. The girlies are very unserious, very ridiculous, very enjoyable. The wigs are wiggin, the bobs are bobbin. Obsessed with this shot where they all look at each other behind the king bc they've collectively and wordlessly decided to jump Bussy in a back alley

Anjou being introduced with these shots ? Also ridiculous. 10/10. The dangerous diva he wishes he was. I'm starting to understand why russian fans love him and Bussy when this is the portrayal, as opposed to the books where the vibes are kind of just Prince Cringefail and Count Anger Issues ( Does Not Like His Boss )

my boy and his boys....... see you in further episodes

[nebbyy]

I have a request, if youre taking them.

Baldwin's wife sneaks into the battle in 1177 with sixteen year old Baldwin, his reaction and what not. make it your own, just thought this would be cool

King Baldwin x reader - My archangel

A/N: I absolutely LOVE this idea! I've never thought of a scenario like this before, so thank you so so much for the suggestion<3

Sorry if this took so long btw, I haven't been active lately because of school and work😔😔

As always, painting is "The Crown of Love" by John Everett Millais (it's so funny to me for no reason, it just makes me think of how Baldwin would be physically dragging you out of danger).

Summary: During the most importante battle of his life so far, the last person king Baldwin expected to see on the battlefield was his newlywed wife

Warning: war, but it's more of a background thing, mentions of injuries and a hint at misogynism

Word count: 5433

It had been decided. Jerusalem's knights and soldiers would be riding towards Saladin's army at dawn, led by their king, King Baldwin IV of Anjou. Your Baldwin.

The mere idea that tomorrow your husband would find himself fighting face to face against the most fearsome of his enemies terrified you, especially knowing that you could do nothing to protect him. He had expressly said he did not want you or his sisters anywhere near the battlefield, it was too risky. You should have waited for his return, for him to be victorious astride his steed, now lying lifeless on a black bed.

You closed your eyes, begging your mind to spare you from the projection of that macabre image in your head. But you could do nothing against these emotions, which were tearing at your mind and spirit. You could not remain still and impassive, obedient and elegant as you always were as a young princess, then as a wife and now as a queen.

No, that image of you had to slumber, if only for a while. You did not have your kingdom on your mind at that moment, only Baldwin and the overwhelming desire to be close to him.

You cursed your nature for making you a woman, for not having had the opportunity to learn the art of arms and war. You cursed your long robes that prevented you from any daring movement, and your limbs because even if they were able to move freely they would not have the strength to even wield a sword.

As Baldwin fell asleep in your arms, exhausted by the fatigue that this imminent battle was costing him, and you held him close to your heart as if to compel him eternally into your embrace, you weaved a plan in your mind. A plan not to leave him alone at dawn, to stay as close to him as possible.

Because even if it was the day God would claim your husband's soul, at least you wanted to be near him as he took his last breath.

How selfish you were, not even death would have been left for him. But then again, poets have been saying it for centuries, love is the gravest form of madness.

You woke up in an empty bed, the spectre of a kiss floating on your bare shoulder where Baldwin's lips had rested a few moments before, when he had to arouse himself to lead his army into battle. And despair pervaded you almost immediately, when when you woke up still no idea had come to your mind to stay by his side, after you had hoped that sleep would grant you a solution to your problem.

Unable to hold back tears of frustration and despair, you summoned your favourite handmaiden, your nurse, old to almost retirement but cunning as a mischievous child. You wept on her welcoming lap, clutching the fabric of her robe in your fists.

"Oh Agnes, how unfair is my fate as a woman. I am asked to stand by my husband's side all my life and yet I am denied a place beside him in these dark times. And they tear him from my arms and leave me here, alone and helpless, these monstrous Saracens!" She looked at you with sympathetic eyes, stroking the long hair that fell from your shoulders, which resembled the waves of the sea as they shook slightly from your sobs. "What can I do, Agnes? You who always have a quick tongue to give solutions to my every worry, tell me what I can do, before his horse and troops are too far away to be seen."

She, like a mother consoling a child who has injured himself while playing, took your face with one hand, inviting you to turn your gaze towards her. As she wiped the tears that streaked your cheeks with her thumb, she spoke softly to you, although her tone had a hint of her typical mischief in it: "My lady, weeping over your fate does not suit you. Instead, I propose you run. Make haste to the armoury, there you are sure to find armour left behind by some lord. Do you follow me? Well, you will simply have to put on the armour, carrying a pair of your husband's breeches underneath. And keep your helmet tightly closed, so that it cannot be seen that beneath the armour there is not a brutish knight, but a beautiful queen.

Go out of the palace through the servants' passages, and buy the horse of the first man you find. Not yours, in the royal stable they would notice his absence. And then all that remains is for you to ride, ride as fast as you can, to reach the Christian encampments as soon as possible, which by then will have been set up. Remain aloof, and reveal yourself to your husband only. And do so at night, in his tent, where no unwanted eyes can see your unexpected encounter. Is it all clear, my lady?"

You merely nodded frantically with eyes wide in wonder and relief. You practically leapt into the air, quick to grab the first slip you could find and a pair of cheap shoes that you could ruin with all your impending travels. You were about to leave the room, but stopped for a moment at the threshold, before turning back to Agnes to hold her tightly in a warm embrace.

"What would I do without you, my dear. You are even better than a guardian angel, I wouldn't be surprised if one day you left some white feathers behind!" The woman squeezed you affectionately before pushing you away playfully, urging you to get out and go and do whatever she directed. "It is the job of a nurse, to solve a child's problems in the same way as a mother. But hurry now or the battle will be over before you have even found a helmet!"

You laughed lightly as you wiped the dried tears from your cheeks, wasting no more time in rushing to get what was necessary to implement your plan. You rushed in front of the crate containing Baldwin's clothes, tossing robes and shirts in the air until you found breeches fit for a ride. You hastily donned them, then dashed down the long corridors of the palace.

Once in the armoury, you began to spin like a wheel, desperately searching with your eyes for any armour. You weren't picky, anything would have been more than enough: you'd have been fine with just a breastplate, chain mail, simple shoulder straps,… But most of all, you needed a helmet. And that you found almost immediately in your mad search. It was crudely moulded and already bore a few dents on the sides, but you paid no attention to it, it was enough to conceal your identity.

You also found a breastplate, and that was all you needed. You considered taking a sword with you too, but quickly changed your mind: it might be foolish to most, but you hoped that if an enemy found you unarmed, his honour would prevent him from challenging you to a fight.

And then, your focus on your sword quickly faded as you remembered that you still had no horse to reach the battlefield. Running awkwardly, like a child ambitiously trying on his father's far too large armour, you stepped back into the corridors, this time frantically searching with your eyes for a servant to follow towards the back exit.

It must have been a hilarious scene from an outside observer, a burly swineherd looking perplexed over his shoulder as a half-armed knight los eguiva like a tin puppet through the narrow corridors. But the scene was short-lived, for after a couple of turns you finally reached the palace exit, and emerged into the crowded streets of the city.

I had to move my helmet slightly above my eyes to better see the road around you, scanning the area for any horse. You could only see two camels, a few cows, a hen with her small flock of chicks, but no horse in sight. But just when you were about to give up hope, a mysterious force swept over you.

More than mysterious force, you were almost overwhelmed by a horse held on the bridle by a dirty, smelly man. "Out of the way, kid!" Looking at the man with wide eyes, taking good care to make sure your helmet covered your features well, you strained to speak in the most naturally deep voice you could muster, attempting to fool the yokel into mistaking you for a mere boy.

"Sir how much… how much are you asking for your horse?" He laughed, opening his mouth wide and exposing his few remaining teeth, yellow and frayed, and looked at you with a look of paucity and mockery, "You're going off to war without even a horse? The Saracens will impale you like a spit, son. Not that the battle would do you any good either way, with the child king we have, they will all be wiped out. before they even reach those bloody Arabs!”

You clenched your jaw so tightly that you thought your teeth might blow out from the pressure, so hard were you trying to suppress your anger at that disrespectful commoner. Breathing slowly, trying to calm your nerves, you spoke in stiff, icy words, "30 shillings. And you leave me the saddle" The man's eyes widened, incredulous at how much a young man was willing to pay for his old, shabby horse. But he wasn't complaining at all; in fact, better for him if the thirst for war drove the youth of today to such lengths. If only he had known that it was not the bloodlust of a daring young man that was before him, but instead the affectionate madness of a desperate wife.

He did not even answer, stretched out his open hand in front of him where a moment later a bag full of coins fell. He opened it for good measure, making sure the hefty sum was true. When he was satisfied, he slowly handed you the bridle, dazed by the small fortune he was holding.

You hoisted yourself awkwardly onto the horse, and it was not a quick operation as it seemed almost impossible for you not to fall off the horse, so much was the armor restricting your every move and weighing you down. After a few minutes of tribulation, you finally steadied yourself in the saddle and with a firm gesture of your leg, spurred the steed, which galloped off in an instant.

At a gallop, the city didn't seem nearly so big. Nor did the streets seem so crowded, perhaps because the people spread out like the sea in front of Moses as you passed, trying to escape the unpleasant fate of being swept away by the running horse and its mysterious rider. You felt as if you were sailing through the waves of the sea, with people's heads bobbing up and down, a current of movement pushing you closer and closer to the city gates. No one paid much attention to you as you crossed the threshold into the kingdom of heaven, most just thought you were a careless rider who had fallen behind, perhaps this was your first battle. Whatever your problem was, it was not about the wall guards. And so your figure disappeared from the sight of the remaining citizens in the city, vanishing into the vastness of the endless desert.

You did not know quite how long you rode, how many hours it took you before you began to locate even the slightest trace of the passage of the army of Jerusalem. At first it was only small details, marks left on the ground, mainly trinkets possibly dropped to the soldiers during the ride. Then the signs of their passage became more prominent, when around a small oasis you even found a few abandoned spears, probably forgotten back by some careless soldier.

And you stopped there for only a moment, as thirst would have prevented you from going any further. As you drank from the body of water, your mind travelled in thought to your husband; who knows if he too drank from this spring? And if so, how long has it been? Will he be far from here? What would he say when he saw you retracing the passage he and his troops were tracing? At that last thought a shiver ran down your spine, most likely he would not be very happy to know you were so close to danger. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the image of the look that Baudouin would give you if he saw you at that moment, alone, barely armed in the vast and merciless desert, with no escort to protect you…

You only hoped that the surprise and joy of seeing you at such a tragic moment might cloud his mind from any concern he might have for you. In the meantime you had quenched your thirst enough. Regaining the reins of your horse, and after a series of ministrations to remount the saddle, you resumed your ride towards the battle with the unknown outcome.

As you rode with the wind blowing in your face, with nothing to entertain or distract you, your mind could not but return again to Baldwin. You could not help it, for fear for his fate had been tearing at your soul for days without respite, ever since it was announced that a battle would take place.

Baldwin was too young for all this. He was barely of marriageable age, he could barely reign without a regent at his side, he was hardly considered more than a child, many nobles even refused to call him an adult! And then there was his illness, which although not yet crippling, had already begun to expand its deadly effect on his body, numbing his nerves and making it impossible for him to wield his right hand properly. It was really unfair, that a man in his condition should lead an army to what everyone considered certain death.

Death at the hands of the Saracens, who were rumoured to be as many as ten times the number of the army of Jerusalem. A sob escaped from your mouth, followed by a faint stream of tears that ran down your cheeks, but they were short-lived on your face, the dry desert wind dried them in no time.

Only an instant seemed to pass, time to bring a hand to his face to wipe away the dried saline tears. Yet when your gaze focused again on the landscape in front, you saw a few hundred metres away a series of white tents, a few faint rows of smoke rising in the air, a massive cross set with precious gems, leaning against a rough wooden construction. It was the camp of the Jerusalem army.

Getting off your horse, you advanced hesitantly through the camp. Looking around, you noticed the stunned gazes of soldiers and horsemen watching you, some intrigued by your unkempt armor, some confused by your clumsy way of moving. But although the attention of their gazes made you stop breathing, fearing that you had been discovered, but fortunately it was short-lived, all the men were too tired from the exertions of the journey to investigate even this oddity. Taking you for an inexperienced little boy, they looked away from you and proceeded to drag their aching limbs back to their respective tents.

But although no one gave you more than the attention you give any stranger on the street, your heart would not stop beating furiously in its cage. You quivered at the mere thought of seeing your husband again, who although he had recently separated from you, already felt as if you had not seen him for an eternity. And your soul screamed at the idea that this might be the last time you would see him alive, and urged your legs to move faster. From hesitant strides, your gait grew brisk, impatient, and faster and faster until you burst into a frantic run through the expanse of white tents.

You scanned one, two, ten, a hundred, so many that by now they seemed to you an endless bundle of the same white cloth. But although your hope gave no sign of existing from your mission, your legs were beginning to give out under the constant strain you had subjected your body to for endless hours. You had no choice but to stop to catch your breath, resting your hands on your trembling thighs as you gasped for breath. And it was in that very instant, while you neither heard nor saw anything but the roar of your heart echoing in your ears and the rough ground flattened by the heavy footsteps of the soldiers, dark because of the blurred evening light, that you heard it. That voice.

"We will discuss this tomorrow, now I need the rest" "Certainly, my lord." The dialogue was followed by a knight of high lineage who came out of the tent in front of which you had pulled up to rest. He did not even dignify you with a glance, and you could not care less, for it was not him you were interested in. He was the first man to speak who had captured your complete attention, making the whole world fade away around you. It was a jovial voice, full of life despite obvious tiredness. It was a boy's voice. It was Baldwin's voice.

You sidled up to the curtain of the tent and, before opening your mouth, breathed slowly, tending not only to ease your nerves but also to modulate your voice to make it more masculine, deeper. The deception was to be revealed only when you were alone in the tent, away from prying eyes.

"My king, I know you are now bereft of strength, but grant me a brief interview with your majesty." You could visualize him rolling his eyes, puffing silently and running his good hand over his eyes, as he was always wont to do when any courtier demanded his attention while he was already lying in your arms. And as whenever this familiar event took place, similarly Baldwin made an effort in this case to stand up and mutter a reply, unaware that the subject behind the cloth was not just any boy, but his beloved wife. "I'm afraid I'm in no condition for a meeting at the moment. We will discuss whatever you need tomorrow." Panic grew in you hearing him so indisposed. After all, you should have expected it; he had more to think about than granting an interview to an anonymous soldier. In an instant, however, you changed your strategy, if you couldn't convince him you would have to bait him, "Please, sir, give me a few minutes! I bring with me a great surprise, a gift that I know will fill your heart with joy and restore your energy!"

He paused, as if weighing his options. At least that was what you thought, but in truth Baldwin was wondering if he was going crazy. If he had only dreamed, due to exhaustion and fatigue, that the voice speaking to him from outside the tent was not any young man's, but a disguise meant to hide the angelic melodic voice of his beloved wife. Were it really her, Baldwin would not have wasted a moment in throwing open the door for her, taking her into his arms and carrying her to his momentary abode, where her presence alone could be savored by him.

But he knew it could not be possible: you, his beloved wife whose image constantly pervaded his mind, were thousands and thousands of feet away, safe within the walls of your palace, as you had promised him. It was just not possible that you were the one hiding outside the tent, his hopes were just a cruel game of his mind. But by now his attention had been caught by the stranger so eager to talk to the king, to give him this phantom gift. Perhaps there would have been cause for concern, for thought of possible deception or assault by an enemy spy, but Baldwin did not give the thought more than a second's attention, before sighing softly and turning away, gazing back at the white fabrics of the tent. "Very well, come forward then. I hope this surprise you tell me about is really that formidable."

You came close to slinging yourself into the tent, throwing yourself into Baldwin's arms in an instant, and never letting go. But you still couldn't do it; it was too risky. You merely placed a hand on the side of the fabric that closed the curtain, pulling it to go through and letting it fall back behind you. And there you stood, facing Baldwin, clad in that armor far too large for your size, your heart pounding wildly from both the fatigue of the journey and the excitement. And he slowly, with a phlegm as elegant as the waters of a stream, turned to reveal the identity of his mysterious visitor, and you had already freed your face from the tortuous confines of the helmet you had worn for endless hours.

His eyes widened, wide as never before. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Baldwin could say he was truly, truly surprised. A thousand emotions passed from his face, from astonishment, to joy, to anger, and then to sadness, and then to astonishment again. For a moment he seemed about to open his mouth, but he stopped, opting instead to run to you, putting his arms around you, holding you tight and lifting you off the ground so tight was his grip. "My affection, how can you be so foolish! This is no place for you, so far from home, close to the enemy… You promised me you would stay safe, let me go, let me protect you! How could you do something so rash, you who are always so wise? Alone through the desert, what if the enemy had met you before I got here? What would I have done if your lifeless body, tortured by the Saracens, had been brought to me?"

His voice was exhausted, worn out by weariness and emotion that blocked his throat and threatened to make hot tears fall from his white cheeks. His words were harsh and stern, but devoid of any reproach: it was his fear speaking, his fear of seeing you the next day among the stacked bodies of war victims. And as he spoke he held your arms, shook you lightly, and in the process interrupted himself to place chaste kisses on your face, as if through the touch of his lips he was trying to convince himself that you were really there, standing before him. That it was not a mere illusion, a game of his mind.

Gently, with a touch as light as the morning wind, your hands went up his chest to his beautiful face, which you lovingly cupped. "I swore before God that I would not abandon my place at your side until the breath leaves my body. I have enjoyed with you wealth, pomp, and good fortune. But what you have granted me to witness is only half of the aspects of a nuptial union. Poverty, sickness, and the misery of war are the woes that touch every human being, and which two spouses are expected to face together. So now, my king, I beseech you, do not deny me a place at your side as you fight for the honor and freedom of the Holy Land, do not deny me a duty that has been mine since you and I were joined in eternity. It is unjust what you have subjected me to, to have to watch you ride away from me, toward the worst of dangers! And how could you think I would let you go just like that, without opening my mouth? Now we are even, I have retraced the path you yourself have traced, as bereft of safety as you were bereft of my presence. And now together we face this mortal danger, which, however, will never hold a candle to the pain that distance from you brings me!"

Baldwin's eyes softened, though they had a melancholy note in them. He inhaled with shuddering breath, and his grip became softer on your body, his hands descended from his arm to your waist, always holding you as close as physically possible.

"I was always told that silence honors women. This does not suit you, for depriving you of speech robs you of the royalty that makes you my queen. I ask your forgiveness, my angel, for leaving you alone in such a dark time. But try to understand my choice, how self-centered would I have been to ask you to come with me, in the midst of the greatest danger? It was simply too much for me, my beloved, the burden on my heart, begging me to do all that was permissible to keep you safe, even if that necessitated keeping you away from me. You are too far away now for me to send you back to the palace with an escort, and my heart could not bear to part with you for even another hour. You will stay here, ruling your people as you should. But please do not do me the wrong of setting foot on that bloody battlefield tomorrow. If even God decides that tomorrow my hour has come, and I fall lifeless on the bloody ground, do not move a step, do not show any sign of weakness. Don't follow me into the afterlife, don't even think about it: I know full well that I will never have the honor of lying eternally by your side, I am not worthy of it, so don't jeopardize your precious life in the name of an eternity by my side."

You did not respond, and silence fell. Squeezing together for another moment, you broke away shortly thereafter only to move to the bed set up in his tent, not as luxurious as his usual palace bed but certainly far more comfortable than the hay bunks in which soldiers elsewhere rested. Clinging to each other, you remained silent for a few moments. Or maybe it was hours, neither of you knew. Nor did you care, knowing how much time had passed, how much more separated you from the inescapable fate that awaited you the next day. Silent tears streaked your faces, sobs and sighs filled the air of the room. Then, you took courage to open your mouth, your voice soft and melancholy, weakened by weeping. "How unfair is our fate, affection. How bitter is my soul, knowing that tomorrow I must witness such a slaughter, an open-air slaughterhouse in which you yourself may become yet another victim."

As your first response you heard a snort from your husband, who squeezed you tighter for a moment, as if to secure you beside him, engulf you in his body. His lips pressed against your temple, placing a gentle kiss there, and they remained resting there even as he began to speak, "I know, I know my angel. I too wish things were simpler, that I could retire from this world, go and live with you, away from all this chaos, all this violence. You don't know how much I would have liked to abdicate, to leave the throne to Sybilla and her husband. They would have been good rulers, if only dear William had not passed away so soon. And so we have only to live like this, my beloved. To live perpetrated by the duties and horrors that mankind is capable of, all in the name of God's affection," a pause, a look that said a thousand silent words, and then resumed, "in the name of my affection for you… Tomorrow it will be an honor for me to fight, for like the valiant Lancelot, who fought to his last breath in the name of beautiful Guinevere. I do not care if my life will be endangered, if I return wounded and maimed more than leprosy is already reducing me. No, I don't care, because at the end of the day, whether my heart still beats or not, I know that I will return to lie in your arms.

And that makes up for all the injustices I will have to face." The last words were whispered, softened by a deep affection that numbed the senses and made everything as graceful as the clouds in the sky.

More tears streamed down your rosy cheeks, but you tried to conceal them by hiding your face in the crease of Baldwin's neck. The tone grew sterner for a moment as he resumed speaking, intimating you to listen with a grip on your shoulder. "Just promise me that, in case the battle goes badly, and I am dead and defeated and my whole army with me, promise me that you will escape, as far away as you can. Find shelter at the dwellings of those who have abstained from this conflict, find asylum in churches and in any sacred place you can find. Do whatever you can in order to protect your life. Protect what has always been dearest to me, your life."

"I will, I promise." You would have liked to retort, or much less say what he wanted to hear without really thinking it. But deception did not suit you, not toward Baldwin at least. And the mere thought that that might be his last will, which made you want to throw yourself to the ground and cry every tear you had in your body, also made it impossible for you to disobey that simple request, which after all was the request that you care for your own body and soul.

Whether Baldwin had taken your word for it or not, you were not sure, it was hard to say. It didn't matter, both of you were too tired to linger talking any longer, contrary to your usual routine of endless discussions on all kinds of topics. He whispered something to you in his native tongue, and although the language was vaguely unfamiliar to you and fatigue clouded your mind, you could still discern a sweet "I love you" among the words he spoke.

The next day your awakening was similar to the day Baldwin left Jerusalem: alone in bed, the place where your husband lay still warm. Outside the men were shouting orders and the horses were pawing in irritation at the din. In the distance you could hear the cries of the Saracens approaching, and the horns of war echoing in the air. You tried to peep your head out of the tent, but a guard surprised you right in front of the entrance. "My lady, his majesty has ordered that you do not leave the tent until the battle is over." The tone was authoritative and gentle at the same time, but his spear was stretched across the opening of the tent, an admonition far more direct than his words. You obeyed, as you had promised Baldwin that same evening, and without protest you retreated back inside the small temporary dwelling.

And so you stood there, alone and unaware of what was unfolding beyond the white tent. The last sound you were able to discern was your beloved's voice inciting his men to battle, before the din of war produced such a cacophony that it was impossible to understand a single sentence spoken. They rode for a few hundred meters until they reached the place where the battle would take place. They rode so far that the din they caused as they passed became muffled, barely audible. And perhaps it was for the best, for the distance muffled the atrocious sounds of war, of slaughter.

And so you waited there, within the four fabric walls, white as snow, that you feared at every moment might be stained with blood, friend or foe. You waited for the outcome of the battle, dumb with fear, with tension. You awaited Baldwin's return, dead or alive, victorious or defeated. And you did so by standing there, closer to him than was possible, exhausted and restless at the same time.

A/N: Yallll this was LONGGGG. i really really like how this turned out, and i hope you do too! I'm really sorry for how long it took me to write this piece, but I promise the following ones will take much much less🙏🙏🙏 Anyway, now I gotta go start working on those, feel free to leave a comment or feedback about this fic<3<3

[lilydalexf]

👽 X-Files Season 7 Fic, Part 11

There are so many great stories set in season 7 of The X-Files! Here are even more, following seven prior sets of season 7 fic recs. There are a lot of good season 7 stories. Enjoy! Parts 1 ** 2 ** 3 ** 4 ** 5 ** 6 ** 7 ** 8 ** 9 ** 10 Aquinnah by Anjou Axiom by allimarie Birthday Series by @syntax6 Hallowed by OnlyTheInevitable (@gaycrouton) Harmonice Mundi by @aloysiavirgata Into the Light by @msrafterdark keeping count by scullyism Learning Curve by JLB Mezzo Luna by msk Secret Spots by @baronessblixen Strangers and the Strange Dead by Kipler throat, eye and knucklebone by audries (@audriesfic) Untitled by @aloysiavirgata Untitled by @aloysiavirgata Untitled "Millennium" fic by @aloysiavirgata Untitled "Orison" crossover fic by @aloysiavirgata Wishes by @baronessblixen

[angevinyaoiz]

Two questions -

Why King John is the last Angevin ?

Who is your favourite Angevin King ?

John is considered the last Angevin because he lost the county of Anjou along with Normandy and other territories in Europe after the Battle of Bouvines. So he was no longer Count of Anjou then. Lol

As for my favorite … not to Eleanorkin but I do like Richard and his drama and warriorisms a lot…His role in both legend and facts shares a lot of traits with types of characters and stories I tend to like, which is “badass but still has a weird overwrought drama with every single person he runs into.” Also I think those of us who are interested in him are always both a little intrigued by the legend and glamour aspect of his person even while we want to try and take it apart and investigate his flaws and drama—as historian Jean Flori says, the legend-and-image is not necessarily “separate” from his person but should be understood as something deliberately constructed and maintained, and that on its own I think implies a lot about a character.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

I have seen a post comparing Steven's adoption of Henry II in the anarchy with what the Velaryons did with the Strong boys wanting to justify that their claim is legitimate, but in my humble opinion it is not comparable at all. This situation could be extrapolated to Aegon II having adopted his nephew Aegon (that was the LEGITIMATE son of his political rival) having himself a living son, in addition everyone would know that he is not his son and well in this case it would not be applicable but the adopted heir retains his family name...This is not what happens with the Strong boys, It has nothing to do with the modern concept of adoption that they want to apply. I don't understand why it's so hard for them to accept that these guys had no real claim to the throne. They can continue enjoying their characters accepting that they are bastards in every sense of the word. Do you think they are comparable situations?

I haven't seen this argument myself but clearly those are two completely different situations. Stephen didn't adopt Henry II, he made him his heir as a compromise to end to the civil war. And yes, the clear parallel would Aegon II naming Aegon III his heir over Jaehaerys and Maelor, had they survived. Again, this was part of a peace treaty. Everyone knew who Henry II's parents were, and there was no question of his not being trueborn. Henry II was still Count of Anjou, the title he inherited through his father, and styled himself Henry FitzEmpress in honor of his mother.

To understand why this happened, we need to look at some context. Henry II was only 20 when he decided to re-take his mother's throne, and Stephen was past 60. At that point England had been at war off and on for the better part of 15 years and both the clergy and the lords were unenthusiastic about continuing and forced Henry and Stephen to the peace table after Henry made some early gains in his campaign. Stephen respected Henry, and Stephen's own sons were kind of uninspiring as future kings go. Eustace, the older son and main obstacle, died before Stephen did, and the younger son, William, agreed to renounce his claim. Stephen never really took the throne due to strong personal ambition in the first place, but because he was persuaded by people close to him that Matilda would be a poor choice for queen, both due to her being a woman and due to the influence of her husband, Geoffrey of Anjou, who was pretty well hated in England. Leaving the throne to his children did not seem to be a major consideration for him when all was said and done. Conceding heirship to Henry II meant that the fighting could come to an end, and the country would be in capable hands, but Stephen himself would not face the humiliation and possible consequences of being outright deposed. As it turned out, Stephen died not even a year later, so Henry II took the throne sooner than expected.

Rhaenyra's Strong children are bastards that she's trying to put into the line of succession while claiming they are trueborn. They were not "adopted" by the Velaryons. The medieval world did not have a concept of adoption like we do in the modern world (Rome did, but not medieval Europe). The reason why it is treason to call them bastards is because what Rhaenyra is doing is illegal, and Viserys, Corlys, and Laenor are shielding her from the consequences. I wrote a post here about the whole idea that Rhaenyra's children are not legally bastards, but I have to admit comparing them to Henry II becoming heir after Stephen is a new one!

[kchasm]

Ryu Number: Jack Jackson

In 1120, the son—and anticipated heir—of King Henry I of England died in a maritime accident. In a time and place where a succession crisis popped off every time a monarch bit it even with preparation beforehand, this was Kind Of Bad.

The only legitimate child Henry I had left was Matilda (also called Maud), who'd been married to the Holy Roman Empire for a while, but was now married to the Count of Anjou, who was Not Popular, especially among the sort of people you wanted to be popular among if you wanted them to be alright with you ruling the kingdom. Henry I tried to go to bat for Matilda, but time ran out, and in 1135, he died. And that's just about when the Anarchy began.

...No, really, that's what the civil war was called: "The Anarchy." I would rather not have a civil war, but you've got to admit that that's a pretty hardcore name for one. Also actually it actually took a few years for Matilda to set up and get to civil-warring, but "and after a few years the Anarchy began" doesn't sound nearly as cool, right?

Matilda's main opponent in this game of thrones was Henry I's nephew, Stephen of Blois, who, having the good fortune to actually be in the area, wasted no time taking the reins. An awful lot of stuff happened after, but eventually everyone got real sick of fighting and in 1153 the big names hammered out the Treaty of Wallingford, that agreed that Stephen would be king, actually, but once he shuffled off Matilda's son—also named Henry, because history isn't hard enough to keep track of already—would take the throne.

...This isn't really about any of these guys, though.

The Pillars of the Earth is a 1989 historical fiction novel by Welsh author Ken Follett. Using the Anarchy and related events as a backdrop, it tells the story of a lot of folks from the priory and village of Kingsbridge, England having a Real Subpar Time. Secrets and Politics happen, a lot of it churchish, and it trickles down to the little people in the worst of ways.

Also there's a bunch about building cathedrals; some folks in the book are Really Deep Into That, especially Jack Jackson, one of the more important characters from the book who gets dealt a rotten hand and makes do nonetheless.

It's not the sort of media you'd expect to get a video game adaptation out of, but it got one anyway.

And I'm definitely not complaining, 'cause that means Jack Jackson has a Ryu Number of at most 3.

...Guess who finally finished studying the newest Age of Empires II: Definitive Edition DLC? Victors and Vanquished features a numbers of historical scenarios, including one where you play as Henry's nephew, Stephen, Stephen's brother, Henry, and Stephen's wife, Matilda, against the armies of Henry's daughter, Matilda, and Matilda's son, Henry.

This is giving me flashbacks back to elementary school when every third girl was named either Ashley or Jessica. I cut the knot by simply remembering no one's name, which worked badly.

Anyway, as a bonus, have this list of characters who—taking into account only the games I have gone through myself—appear only in Age of Empires II: Definitive Edition.

[heather123fan-blog]

medieval women week day 2: Favorite non-Queen or Queen-adjacent royal woman: Jacquetta of Luxembourg Duchess of Bedford and Mother to Queen Elizabeth Woodville

Jacquetta of Luxembourg was the eldest child of the French Count of St Pol; her family descended from Charlemagne and were cousins to the Holy Roman Emperor. She grew up with war between France and England raging around her.

John, Duke of Bedford was the youngest son of King Henry IV. Having lost his wife to plague in 1432, he arranged to marry the seventeen-year-old Jacquetta, who was his social equal by her birth. Although married for two years they were childless when John died in September 1435. The King instructed Jacquetta to come to England and ordered Sir Richard Woodville, to arrange it.

However, Jacquetta and Richard fell in love, but Richard was a poor knight, far below Jacquetta in social status. Nonetheless, they married secretly thus thwarting any plans King Henry may have had to marry her off to a wealthy English lord. Theirs was a morganatic marriage, where one of the partners, most often the wife, was socially inferior. Henry was enraged and fined the couple £1000. He did however allow their heirs to inherit, which was unusual for morganatic marriages in England.

Being the widow of Henry V��s brother and aunt to the King, royal protocol gave Jacquetta the highest rank at court of any female except Henry’s wife, Margaret of Anjou, to whom Jacquetta was related by marriage. She even ‘outranked’ the King’s mother and was referred to as the ‘Duchess of Bedford,’ retaining the title from her first marriage. Richard and Jacquetta lived in their manor house at Grafton Regis near Northampton producing fourteen children, the eldest, Elizabeth being born in 1437.

In 1448 Richard was created Lord Rivers: his advancement ensured his family supported Henry VI in the dynastic feuding of the Wars of the Roses. The situation changed with the Yorkist victory at the Battle of Towton in 1461 and the seizure of the throne by Edward IV. By the spring of 1464, Jacquetta’s daughter Elizabeth was a widow, her Lancastrian husband having been killed in 1461. Within a few months, Elizabeth was married to the young King Edward IV.

Jacquetta died in 1472 aged 56 and was buried at Grafton, though no record of her tomb survives. Recently, one legacy has come to light. Research by gene specialists indicates that Jacquetta was a carrier of the rare Kell-Antigen-Mcleod syndrome causing impaired fertility and psychotic behavioural changes in the male descendants of the family.

Written by Michael Long. I have over 30 years experience teaching History in schools and examiner History to A level. My specialist area is England in the 15th and 16th centuries. I am now a freelance writer and historian.

[catherinetheprincessofwales]

William, The Conqueror to Catherine, The Princess of Wales ⤜ The Princess of Wales is William I's 27th Great-Granddaughter  via her paternal grandfather’s line.

William the Conqueror (m. Matilda of Flanders)

Henry I, King of England (m. Matilda of Scotland)

Empress Matilda (m. Geoffrey V, Count of Anjou)

Henry II, King of England (m. Eleanor of Aquitaine)

John I, King of England (m. Isabella of Angoulême)

Henry III, King of England (m. Eleanor of Provence)

Edmund, Earl of Lancaster (m. Blanche of Artois)

Henry, 3rd Earl of Leicester and Lancaster (m. Matilda de Chaworth)

Mary of Lancaster, Baroness Percy (m. Henry de Percy, 3rd Lord Percy) - Coat of Arms

Sir Henry Percy, 1st Earl of Northumberland (m. Margaret de Neville)

Sir Henry ‘Hotspur’ Percy (m. Elizabeth Mortimer)

Sir Henry Percy, 2nd Earl of Northumberland (m. Lady Eleanor Neville) - Coat of Arms

Sir Henry Percy, 3rd Earl of Northumberland (m. Eleanor, Baroness Poynings) - Coat of Arms

Lady Margaret Percy (m. Sir William Gascoigne)

Agnes Gascoigne (m. Sir Thomas Fairfax) - Gawthorpe Hall, family seat.

William Fairfax (m. Anne Baker) - Gilling Castle, family seat. 

John Fairfax (m. Mary Birch) Master of the Great Hospital at Norwich, Norfolk

Rev. Benjamin Fairfax (m. Sarah Galliard), Preacher at Rumburgh, Suffolk.

Benjamin Fairfax (m. Bridget Stringer) died in Halesworth, Suffolk.

Sarah Fairfax (m. Rev. John Meadows) died in Ousedon, Suffolk.

Philip Meadows (m. Margaret Hall)

Sarah Meadows (m. Dr. David Martineau)

Thomas Martineau (m. Elizabeth Rankin) buried at Rosary Cemetery, Norwich.

Elizabeth Martineau (m. Dr. Thomas Michael Greenhow) died in Newcastle upon Tyne, Northumberland.

Frances Elizabeth Greenhow (m. Francis Lupton)

Francis Martineau Lupton (m. Harriet Albina Davis)

Olive Christina Lupton (m. Richard Noel Middleton)

Peter Francis Middleton (m. Valerie Glassborow)

Michael Francis Middleton (m. Carole Elizabeth Goldsmith)

The Princess of Wales m. The Prince of Wales

[ardenrosegarden]

“Now, Bishop Gervais so cherished Hugh, whom he had held on the baptismal font, that he sought for him the hand of the noblest lady Bertha, formerly wife of Alan, Count of Brittany.” This Alain had died in the year 1040. He had had a son from Bertha, the brave Conan, who was poisoned under the walls of Château-Gontier. Bertha was the daughter of Odo II, Count of Blois. "This greatly displeased Count Geoffrey," adds the annalist, "as the event proved. Hugh went with his men-at-arms to Bertha; Geoffrey ran to the Château-du-Loir and set it on fire. "In a charter that we have already mentioned (1), we find some details about the siege of the Château-du-Loir. Geoffrey did not seize it, but he ravaged the streets of the square, the village that surrounded it, and even a church founded in honor of Saint Guingalois, where Gervais had recently established canons. The soldiers of the Count of Anjou dispersed them. These actions,” we read in our manuscript, "now rendered the count to the bishop and the bishop to the count odious to each other. Geoffrey, therefore, seeing that, by the advice of Gervais, who wanted to harm and lose him, Count Hugh had taken a very powerful woman, and carrying Judas in his heart, called the bishop near him, in order to treacherously surprise him. Having seized him, he had him thrown into prison and held him in irons for seven years, hoping to thus make himself master of the Château-du-Loir. But it was of no use to him, because the castle was well defended by the garrison. While these things were going on, Count Hugh died, the bishop Gervais being still a prisoner. This death greatly afflicted the bishop and greatly delighted the Count of Anjou.” Count Geoffrey ruled the province for ten years. Indeed, the inhabitants of Le Mans having driven out the grieving widow of Hugh with her children through one of the gates of the city, had Count Geoffrey enter their walls full of joy.

- Jean-Barthélemy Hauréau, Histoire Littéraire du Maine: Tome 5

[une-sanz-pluis]

A Complaint for My Lady of Gloucester and Holland

Although the “Complaint” is focused on Jacqueline and includes a potentially subversive chorus of grieving women in support of her, Eleanor makes an oblique and threatening appearance about halfway through […] This characterization of Eleanor persists for several more stanzas, referring to “fals Circes,” and “cirens,” whose “fals incantacyouns” and “fals medecynes … / þe prynces hert agaynst al lawe / Frome his promesse his hande to drawe.” Although Eleanor was only publicly accused of witchcraft in 1441, these references in a poem generally dated to 1428 suggest that her reputation preceded that. Eleanor’s position at the heart of an adulterous (and possibly bigamous) love triangle also linked her—as it linked legendary adulteresses like Guenevere and Iseult—to witchcraft, in sharp contrast to Jacqueline, the “goodely fayre pryncesse” for whom “yong and olde [cry] in oone.” A transgression in one realm, one might say, opens a door to transgressions elsewhere. Striking too is the nature of the enchantment, that of the “chaunteresse” or “Ciren.” Although the references to mermaids and “courage serpentyne” may also recall the half-snake figure of Mélusine, the fairy ancestress of the counts of Lusignan, the repetition of “songe” and constant emphasis on voice locate Eleanor’s power elsewhere, a theme to which later depictions of her will return. —Kavita Mudan Finn, “Tragedy, Transgression, and Women’s Voices: The cases of Margaret of Anjou and Eleanor Cobham,” Viator 47.2 (2016).

John William Waterhouse (1900), A Mermaid | John Collier (1886), Lilith With A Snake | John William Waterhouse (1892), Circe Invidiosa | Herbert James Draper (1909), Ulysses and the Sirens | Luis Ricardo Falero (1880), The Witches Sabbith

[medievalandfantasymelee]

We are now just a few days away from the end of the submission period for the Hot Medieval and Fantasy Men Melee, and our Entrants stand numbered at 250!!!

Submissions will close on the 27th of June, so if you have a hot medieval/medieval fantasy guy (or multiple of them) you'd like to see compete, send them in!

Here is a list of our Noble and Worthy Contenders so far.

If your man isn't here, that means he has not been submitted.

The Contenders

So Far…

Adhemar, Count of Anjou [Rufus Sewell], A Knight's Tale (2001)

Prince Aemond Targaryen [Ewan Mitchell], House of the Dragon (2022-)

Alessandro Farnese [Diarmuid Noyes], Borgia: Faith and Fear (2011-2014)

King Alfred the Great [David Dawson], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan [Antonio Banderas], The 13th Warrior (1999)

Antonius Block [Max von Sydow], The Seventh Seal (1957)

Aragorn, Son of Arathorn [Viggo Mortensen], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

King Arthur Pendragon [Alexandre Astier], Kaamelott (2004-2009)

King Arthur Pendragon [Bradley James], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

Athelstan [George Blagden], Vikings (2013-2020)

Ash Williams [Bruce Campbell], Army of Darkness (1992)

Brian de Bois-Guilbert [Ciaran Hinds], Ivanhoe (1997)

 Brother Cadfael [Derek Jacobi], Cadfael (1994-1998)

Carlos I [Álvaro Cervantes], Carlos Rey Emperador (2015-2016)

Prince Caspian [Ben Barnes], The Chronicles of Narnia (2010)

Cesare Borgia [Mark Ryder], Borgia: Faith and Fear (2011-2014)

Cesare Borgia [Francois Arnaud], The Borgias (2011-2013)

Prince Chauncley [Daniel Radcliffe], Miracle Workers: The Dark Ages (2020)

Prince Daemon Targaryen [Matt Smith], House of the Dragon (2022-)

Khal Drogo [Jason Momoa], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Lord Eddard Stark [Sean Bean], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Edgin [Chris Pine], Dungeons & Dragons: Honour Among Thieves (2023)

Éomer, Son of Éomund [Karl Urban], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Étienne de Navarre [Rutger Hauer], Ladyhawke (1985)

Faramir, Son of Denethor [David Wenham], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Finan [Mark Rowley], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Sir Galahad [Michael Palin], Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)

Galavant [Joshua Sasse], Galavant (2015-2016)

Gawain [Dev Patel], The Green Knight (2021)

Geralt z Rivii [Michał Żebrowski], The Witcher (2002)

Geralt of Rivia [Henry Cavill], The Witcher (2019-)

Sir Guy of Gisborne [Basil Rathbone], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Sir Guy of Gisborne [Richard Armitage], BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-2009)

Prince Hamlet [Laurence Olivier], Hamlet (1948)

Hubert Hawkins [Danny Kaye], The Court Jester (1955)

King Henry II Plantagenet [Peter O’Toole], The Lion in Winter (1968)

King Henry V Plantagenet [Tom Hiddleston], The Hollow Crown (2012-2016)

Prince Henry [Dougray Scott], Ever After (1998)

Hugh Beringar [Sean Pertwee], Cadfael (1994-1998)

Inigo Montoya [Mandy Patinkin], The Princess Bride (1987)

Jareth [David Bowie], the Goblin King, Labyrinth (1986)

Jaskier [Joey Batey], The Witcher (2019-)

Prince John Plantagenet [Claude Rains], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Lancelot [Santiago Cabrera], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

Legolas Greenleaf [Orlando Bloom], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Madmartigan [Val Kilmer], Willow (1988)

King Mark of Cornwall [Rufus Sewell], Tristan and Isolde (2006)

Mikoláš Kozlík [František Velecký], Marketa Lazarová (1967)

Merlin [Colin Morgan], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

Niccolo Machiavelli [Thibaut Evrard], Borgia: Faith and Fear (2011-2014)

Prince Oberyn Martell [Pedro Pascal], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Peregrin “Pippin” Took [Billy Boyd], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Pero Tovar [Pedro Pascal], The Great Wall (2016)

Ragnar Lothbrook [Travis Fimmel], Vikings (2013-2020)

Ravenhurst [Basil Rathbone], The Court Jester (1955)

Richard Cypher [Craig Horner], Legend of the Seeker (2008-2010)

King Richard [Timothy Omundson], Galavant (2015-2016)

Richard III Plantagenet [Aneurin Barnard], The White Queen (2013)

Robin Hood [Errol Flynn], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Robin Hood [Michael Praed], Robin of Sherwood (1984)

Robin Hood [Cary Elwes], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

Robin Hood [Tom Riley], Doctor Who: “The Robot of Sherwood” (2014)

Rodrigo Borgia [Jeremy Irons], The Borgias (2011-2013)

Rollo [Clive Standen], Vikings (2013-2020)

Samwise Gamgee [Sean Astin], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Sandor Clegane [Rory McCann], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Sid [Luke Youngblood], Galavant (2015-2016)

Sihtric Kjartansson [Arnas Fedaravicius], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Thorin Oakenshield [Richard Armitage], The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)

Tom Builder [Rufus Sewell], The Pillars of the Earth (2010)

Mr. Tumnus [James McAvoy], The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005)

Vlad III Dracula [Luke Evans], Dracula Untold (2014)

Westley [Cary Elwes], The Princess Bride (1987)

William Thatcher [Heath Ledger], A Knight’s Tale (2001)

Will Scarlet O’Hara [Matthew Porretta], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

Will Scarlett [Patrick Knowles], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Will Scarlett [Christian Slater], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)

[palecleverdoll]

Ages of French Queens at First Marriage

I have only included women whose birth dates and dates of marriage are known within at least 1-2 years, therefore, this is not a comprehensive list.

This list is composed of Queens of France until the end of the House of Bourbon; it does not include Bourbon claimants or descendants after 1792.

The average age at first marriage among these women was 20.

Ermentrude of Orléans, first wife of Charles the Bald: age 19 when she married Charles in 842 CE

Richilde of Provence, second wife of Charles the Bald: age 25 when she married Charles in 870 CE

Richardis of Swabia, wife of Charles the Fat: age 22 when she married Charles in 862 CE

Théodrate of Troyes, wife of Odo: age 14 or 15 when she married Odo in 882 or 883 CE

Frederuna, wife of Charles III: age 20 when she married Charles in 907 CE

Beatrice of Vermandois, second wife of Robert I: age 10 when she married Robert in 990 CE

Emma of France, wife of Rudolph: age 27 when she married Rudolph in 921 CE

Gerberga of Saxony, wife of Gilbert, Duke of Lorraine, and later of Louis IV: age 16 when she married Gilbert in 929 CE

Emma of Italy, wife of Lothair: age 17 when she married Lothair in 965 CE

Adelaide-Blanche of Anjou, wife of Stephen, Viscount of Gévaudan, Raymond III, Count of Toulouse, and later Louis V: age 15 when she married Stephen in 955 CE

Bertha of Burgundy, wife of Odo I, Count of Blois, and later Robert II: age 19 when she married Odo in 984 CE

Constance of Arles, third wife of Robert II: age 17 when she married Robert in 1003 CE

Anne of Kiev, wife of Henry I: age 21 when she married Henry in 1051 CE

Bertha of Holland, first wife of Philip I: age 17 when she married Philip in 1072 CE

Bertrade of Montfort, wife of Fulk IV, Count of Anjou, and second wife of Philip I: age 19 when she married Fulk in 1089 CE

Adelaide of Maurienne, second wife of Louis VI: age 23 when she married Louis in 1115 CE

Eleanor of Aquitaine, first wife of Louis VII and later Henry II of England: age 15 when she married Louis in 1137 CE

Adela of Champagne, third wife of Louis VII: age 20 when she married Louis in `1160 CE

Isabella of Hainault, first wife of Philip II: age 10 when she married Philip in 1180 CE

Ingeborg of Denmark, second wife of Philip II: age 19 when she married Philip in 1193 CE

Agnes of Merania, third wife of Philip II: age 21 when she married Philip in 1195 CE

Blanche of Castile, wife of Louis VIII: age 12 when she married Louis in 1200 CE

Margaret of Provence, wife of Louis IX: age 13 when she married Louis in 1234 CE

Isabella of Aragon, first wife of Philip III: age 14 when she married Philip in 1262 CE

Marie of Brabant, second wife of Philip III: age 20 when she married Philip in 1274 CE

Joan I of Navarre, wife of Philip IV: age 11 when she married Philip in 1284 CE

Margaret of Burgundy, wife of Louis X; age 15 when she married Louis in 1305 CE

Clementia of Hungary, second wife of Louis X: age 22 when she married Louis in 1315 CE

Joan II, Countess of Burgundy, wife of Philip V: age 15 when she married Philip in 1307 CE

Blanche of Burgundy, first wife of Charles IV: age 12 when she married Charles in 1308 CE

Marie of Luxembourg, second wife of Charles IV: age 18 when she married Charles in 1322 CE

Joan of Évreux, third wife of Charles IV: age 14 when she married Charles in 1324 CE

Bonne of Luxembourg, first wife of John II: age 17 when she married John in 1332 CE

Joan I, Countess of Auvergne, wife of Philip of Burgundy, and later John II: age 12 when she married Philip in 1338 CE

Joanna of Bourbon, wife of Charles V: age 12 when she married Charles in 1350 CE

Isabeau of Bavaria, wife of Charles VI: age 15 when she married Charles in 1385 CE

Marie of Anjou, wife of Charles VII: age 18 when she married Charles in 1422 CE

Charlotte of Savoy, second wife of Louis XI: age 9 when she married Louis in 1451 CE

Anne of Brittany, wife of Maximilian I, HRE, Charles VIII and later Louis XII: age 13 when she married Maximilian in 1490 CE

Joan of France, first wife of Louis XII: age 12 when she married Louis in 1476 CE

Mary Tudor, third wife of Louis XII: age 18 when she married Louis in 1514 CE

Claude of France, first wife of Francis I: age 15 when she married Francis in 1514 CE

Eleanor of Austria, wife of Manuel I of Portugal and later second wife of Francis I: age 20 when she married Manuel in 1518 CE

Catherine de' Medici, wife of Henry II: age 14 when she married Henry in 1533 CE

Mary, Queen of Scots, wife of Francis II: age 16 when she married Francis in 1558 CE

Elisabeth of Austria, wife of Charles IX: age 16 when she married Charles in 1570 CE

Louise of Lorraine, wife of Henry III: age 22 when she married Henry in 1575 CE

Margaret of Valois, first wife of Henry IV: age 19 when she married Henry in 1572 CE

Marie de' Medici, second wife of Henry IV: age 25 when she married Henry in 1600 CE

Anne of Austria, wife of Louis XIII: age 14 when she married Louis in 1615 CE

Maria Theresa of Spain, wife of Louis XIV: age 22 when she married Louis in 1660 CE

Marie Leszczyńska, wife of Louis XV: age 22 when she married Louis in 1725 CE

Marie Antoinette, wife of Louis XVI: age 15 when she married Louis in 1770 CE

[racefortheironthrone]

Why did the English kings have to do homage to the French kings for Normandy etc? Why could they not just annex those territories into England? During Henry II's reign, at least, it seems like they had the ability to thwart France's efforts to keep them in the country.

That's a misreading of Henry II's reign - Henry did homage for various territories at various times.

The issue is that the English Kings held Normandy et al. through French titles of nobility - they were Dukes of Normandy, Counts of Anjou, etc. In order to hold these titles under French laws, they were supposed to do homage to the King of France in that capacity.

How much that homage was symbolic rather than practical depended a lot on the relative strength of the two kings at the time - so for example quite a few treaties between the English and the French had clauses regarding which provinces the English king had to do homage for and which they didn't, which were recognized as having English overlordship and which French, and so forth.

[cbk1000]

Hey Jenn!

I saw that you were reading about The Anarchy, and I was wondering what you thought what might have happened in English history if Stephen had also died in the shipwreck that took William Adelin.

Would Matilda have been made Queen of England while while still married to the Holy Roman Emperor?

Would the House of Plantagenet have ruled England?

The War of the Roses wouldn't have happened!

Looking forward to hearing your thoughts!

Oooh, that's an interesting question. (And, yes, The Anarchy is one of my niche nerd interests.)

I'm not sure that Matilda still would have been made Queen of England if her first husband hadn't died. At the very least, Henry I wouldn't have been able to marry her off to Geoffrey of Anjou, and some of the most prominent figures in English history never would have been born. I wonder if Matilda's first husband hadn't died, and he wasn't able to bring her home and marry her off for a political alliance, if he would have applied to divorce Adeliza and tried for another marriage to a woman who would give him a son, since women were blamed for the lack of that. (Also, I've always wondered WHY they were childless; Henry I had bastards strewn all over the place, so he definitely wasn't infertile; but Adeliza, if I'm not misremembering, went on to have children with another husband, so she clearly wasn't either. He was in his 60s when he died, so obviously he was no longer a spring chicken and he probably had a lower sperm count, but men have fathered children well into their 70s, so I'm not sure his age was the issue. Did he have an old injury that made it more difficult for him to sire children? Was it the ol' Fisher King spear through the groin? I dunno; it's interesting to me that he desperately needed a legitimate heir, but despite clearly having no problem knocking up women, the marriage he made based solely on the need for a legitimate heir was unable to produce children, though both members of it certainly seemed to have been able to, separately.)

Henry I did elevate his eldest illegitimate sons to prominent positions (and provided them with extensive education), and the earldom of Gloucester was created specifically for Robert, so he was positioning his illegitimate children in key roles to try and preserve his dynasty. Obviously preserving his dynasty was a top concern for a guy whose only legitimate male heir just drowned. (I always find that sad, too, because William reportedly returned because he heard his sister crying out while she was drowning, and his boat was swamped and everyone aboard drowned, leaving that one, poor little traumatised butcher from Rouen the only survivor.)

Let's say Stephen died, Matilda is still married to the Holy Roman Emperor, and currently broke-dick Henry I doesn't get his alliance with Geoffrey of Anjou, and doesn't recall Matilda to England since she's still doing what women are supposed to do: be useful by being the wife of someone powerful. I think there's a good chance he would have died heirless, which would have left a big power vacuum, and, honestly, probably led to civil war even without Stephen to say, "J/K, your dad changed his mind at the last minute, I pinkie promise that's true, and actually he wants me to rule England." Typically, when the inheritance of a kingdom is in question, a bunch of people step up to yell, "Mine!!!" You've got loads of bastards, relatives, probably powerful barons who might want to have a go. It probably would have been even more of a shitshow. That transference of power is always kind of a shaky period of time, and without a clear-cut line of succession, it would have been nasty, I think, even without Stephen and Matilda bitch slapping one another about it.

And really, there WOULD have been no Plantagenet dynasty, technically, because Henry II was the first Plantagenet to actually take the throne, and he never would have been born if Matilda hadn't married Geoffrey. And the name itself was a nickname for Geoffrey, because, as one theory I usually see bandied about goes, he used to wear sprigs of common broom, called genista. So the Plantagenet dynasty as we think of it wouldn't have existed, though someone from Henry I's bloodline might have taken the throne. We also never would have got King John, or Richard the Lionheart, and then we wouldn't have the Disney movie with King John as a thumb-sucking, tantrum-pitching lion, and that would be a shame.

Also, as you said, no Wars of the Roses, so then would the Tudors have ever rose to the position they did? Would Henry VIII have kept cutting off his wives' heads, and would I have to see every second historical fiction novel be about him when I am begging authors to write about someone else?

[andiatas]

Stephen and Matilda's Civil War: Cousins of Anarchy by Matthew Lewis (May 30, 2024)

The Anarchy was the first civil war in post-Conquest England, enduring throughout the reign of King Stephen between 1135 and 1154. It ultimately brought about the end of the Norman dynasty and the birth of the mighty Plantagenet kings.

When Henry I died having lost his only legitimate son in a shipwreck, he had caused all of his barons to swear to recognize his daughter Matilda, widow of the Holy Roman Emperor, as his heir and remarried her to Geoffrey, Count of Anjou. When she was slow to move to England on her father’s death, Henry’s favourite nephew Stephen of Blois rushed to have himself crowned, much as Henry himself had done on the death of his brother William Rufus. Supported by his brother Henry, Bishop of Winchester, Stephen made a promising start, but Matilda would not give up her birthright and tried to hold the English barons to their oaths. The result was more than a decade of civil war that saw England split apart.

Empress Matilda is often remembered as aloof and high-handed, Stephen as ineffective and indecisive. By following both sides of the dispute and seeking to understand their actions and motivations, Matthew Lewis aims to reach a more rounded understanding of this crucial period of English history and asks to what extent there really was anarchy.

Matthew Lewis trained in law and is now a full-time author of historical fiction and non-fiction. His main interest is medieval history and he has written several books on that topic, including Stephen & Matilda’s Civil War: Cousins of Anarchy, Richard, Duke of York: King by Right and Richard III: Loyalty Binds Me.