#King Alfonso the Wise

[mrsfancyferrari]

Could you maybe make an AU with Carlos? Kind of a Romeo and Juliet vibe where they’re both royalty and aren’t allowed to be together but w a happy ending?

Happy Ever After

Anon: Could you maybe make an AU with Carlos? Kind of a Romeo and Juliet vibe where they’re both royalty and aren’t allowed to be together but w a happy ending?

Song: Love Story by Indila

Author’s note: Hey anon! I'm not used to the story of Romeo and Juliet so please bear with me! Please like, reblog and share this! <33

Word count: 8.6k

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Aragonia, nestled between towering mountains and winding rivers, lay a land of unparalleled beauty and prosperity. The kingdom was a tapestry of lush, verdant landscapes, where rolling hills were adorned with wildflowers that danced in the gentle breeze.

Majestic castles, their spires reaching towards the heavens, stood as a testament to the kingdom's rich history and the ingenuity of its people.

The citizens of Aragonia were a proud and industrious lot, known far and wide for their skilled craftsmanship and unwavering commitment to their community.

From the bustling marketplaces in the heart of the capital city to the quaint, charming villages that dotted the countryside, the people of Aragonia lived in harmony, their days filled with the laughter of children and the rhythmic hum of daily life.

At the center of this enchanting kingdom stood the grand palace, a sprawling edifice of gleaming marble and intricate stonework.

Here, the wise and benevolent ruler of Aragonia presided, guiding the kingdom with a steady hand and a deep understanding of the needs of his people.

Under the watchful eye of the monarch, Aragonia flourished, its reputation for prosperity and innovation spreading far beyond its borders, drawing in visitors from near and far who marveled at the beauty and wonder of this truly remarkable land.

Princess Y/N, known for your grace and beauty, was the eldest daughter of King Alfonso VII. You had inherited your father's intelligence and compassion, making you a beloved figure within the kingdom.

Prince Carlos, on the other hand, was the youngest son of King Ferdinand III. Despite his noble status, he possessed a rebellious spirit that drew him closer to the commoners.

King Alfonso and King Ferdinand were embroiled in a bitter feud that threatened to tear the kingdom apart. The two monarchs harbored deep-seated animosity towards one another, stemming from long-standing political and personal disputes.

This toxic rivalry manifested in a climate of tension and distrust, with the two men constantly vying for power and influence. The tension between them spilled over into their respective families, creating a rift that only served to exacerbate the already precarious situation within the kingdom.

As the conflict escalated, the people of the land found themselves caught in the crossfire, uncertain of their future and the stability of the realm. . . .

"Princess Y/N, are you ready for the party?" your servant asked you as you stared out of your oval-shaped window, revealing the endless sea and the docks.

"Yes Matilda, I am ready," you muttered.

You were not. You hated going to these parties that your father organized. The grand halls filled with nobility, the endless chatter about alliances and politics, and the constant pressure to present yourself as the perfect princess made you feel suffocated.

You'd rather stay here and watch the sea forever, losing yourself in the gentle rhythm of the waves and the distant calls of the seabirds.

As you reluctantly turned away from the window, you couldn't help but sigh. The ocean had always been your sanctuary, a place where you could dream of freedom and adventure far from the palace walls.

But duty called, and you knew you had to uphold your role, no matter how much it pained you.

Adjusting your gown, you took a deep breath and steeled yourself for the evening ahead, wishing that one day you might find a way to escape the gilded cage that held you.

Your father expected you to charm the guests, forge new alliances, and perhaps even catch the eye of a suitable suitor. He had always emphasized the importance of these gatherings for the kingdom's future, and he relied on you to play your part perfectly.

Despite your own desires, you knew that failing to meet his expectations could have serious repercussions for both you and the realm.

The thought of potential suitors filled you with a mixture of dread and resignation. You longed for a partner who understood your love for the sea and your yearning for freedom, rather than someone who only saw you as a pawn in their political games.

Yet, you knew that such a romantic ideal was unlikely in your world, where alliances were forged not by love but by necessity. . . .

"Carlos! Are you sure this isn't going to get us into big trouble?" Mercutio whispered as the three of them pushed through the overgrown garden of the Alfonso family.

Carlos grinned, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Relax, Mercutio. I've done this a dozen times before. The Alfonsos are too busy celebrating to notice a few extra guests," he replied confidently, ducking under a low-hanging branch.

"Besides, we blend in perfectly. Just act like you belong, and no one will question a thing."

Benvolio, trailing behind them, chimed in, "He's right, Mercutio. Remember last summer when we crashed the mayor's gala? We even got compliments on our outfits!" He adjusted his mask and smoothed his clothes, trying to muster up some of Carlos' bravado.

"Let's just have fun tonight. What's the worst that could happen?"

The garden was a labyrinth of lavishly manicured hedges and vibrant flowerbeds, with twinkling fairy lights strung overhead that cast a magical glow on the scene. Stone statues of mythical creatures peeked out from behind dense shrubbery, and a grand marble fountain stood at the center, its water sparkling like liquid diamonds.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming jasmine, adding an enchanting allure to the evening.

"Just blend in," Carlos finally whispered before slipping into the crowd, his movements fluid and confident. Mercutio and Benvolio exchanged a quick glance, then followed suit, mingling seamlessly with the other revelers.

The sound of laughter and music enveloped them as they made their way toward the heart of the celebration, hoping their disguises would hold up under the scrutiny of the Alfonso family and their guests.

Carlos was dressed in an elegant black suit adorned with intricate gold embroidery, his mask a matching black with delicate filigree that framed his eyes.

Mercutio wore a deep blue velvet coat with silver accents, his mask resembling a Venetian masterpiece with feathers that added a touch of mystique.

Benvolio, opting for a more understated look, sported a dark green ensemble with subtle bronze details, his mask simple yet sophisticated, giving him an air of quiet confidence.

Carlos, Mercutio and Benvolio all arrived at the mansion, eager to have a good time. As they mingled with the guests, no one had any idea that they were from the rival Ferdinand family.

They blended in seamlessly, sipping drinks and chatting merrily, their true identities hidden from the unsuspecting crowd.

The three friends revelled in the freedom of being anonymous at the party. They could let their guard down and truly enjoy themselves, without the constant tension and rivalry that existed between their family and the Alfonso.

For once, they were able to forget the long-standing feud and simply live in the moment, dancing and laughing without a care in the world. . . .

"Everyone! Please give your full attention to King Alfonso and his daughter, Princess Y/N who make their appearance tonight!" The announcer stated, catching everyone's attention and the room came to a silent halt.

The grand hall was adorned with opulent chandeliers that cast a warm, golden glow over the elegantly dressed guests. Rich tapestries depicting scenes of royal triumphs hung on the walls, and an orchestra played softly in the background, adding to the regal atmosphere.

At the top of the imperial staircase, a majestic red carpet led straight to the throne, where King Alfonso and Princess Y/N stood in their resplendent attire.

King Alfonso, a striking figure with a commanding presence, wore a robe of deep crimson velvet trimmed with gold embroidery. His crown, encrusted with precious gemstones, rested regally upon his silver hair, which added to his dignified look.

His piercing blue eyes surveyed the room with a mixture of authority and benevolence, and a jeweled scepter in his right hand glinted under the chandelier's light, symbolizing his unchallenged power and leadership.

Princess Y/N, standing gracefully beside him, was the epitome of elegance and poise. Your gown, a masterpiece of delicate lace and satin in shades of royal blue, shimmered with every movement.

A tiara of diamonds and sapphires adorned your flowing locks, complementing your serene and captivating beauty.

Your eyes, a brilliant shade of green, radiated warmth and kindness as you acknowledged the gathered guests, while your calm demeanor and gentle smile hinted at the wisdom and strength that lay beneath your refined exterior.

Carlos and his friends were at the buffet, eagerly sampling the lavish spread of delicacies when the announcement echoed through the hall.

While his companions barely glanced up before returning to their plates, Carlos found himself captivated by the sight of you. Your graceful presence and ethereal beauty held him spellbound, making it impossible for him to look away.

The sparkle of your tiara and the gentle warmth in your eyes seemed to draw him in, as if you were the very embodiment of a fairy tale come to life.

As his friends continued their animated conversation about the best dishes at the buffet, Carlos remained rooted to his spot, his gaze fixed firmly on the princess.

He felt an inexplicable connection, a magnetic pull that made the noise and bustle around him fade into the background.

In that moment, nothing else mattered; all he could see was you, and all he could feel was the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, you might notice him amidst the sea of faces.

The first dance came soon after the announcement, and Carlos knew it was the perfect chance to make his presence known. As the music started, couples began to fill the dance floor, but Carlos's eyes never left you.

Gathering his courage, he approached with a respectful bow, extending his hand. "May I have this dance, Princess?" he asked, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him.

You smiled warmly, recognizing the sincerity in his gaze, and placed your hand in his.

As you both moved gracefully to the rhythm, the world seemed to blur around you. Carlos felt a sense of belonging and purpose, each step affirming the connection he felt.

In your presence, the grandeur of the ballroom faded, leaving just the two of you, sharing a moment that neither would soon forget.

"What is your name?" you asked, your voice as melodious as the music enveloping the room. Carlos hesitated for a brief moment, the truth perched on the edge of his tongue.

"My name is Charles," he lied. A slight tremor in his voice betrayed his nervousness.

You tilted your head slightly, a curious glint in your eyes as you continued to dance. "Charles," you repeated, testing the name on your lips. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Tell me, Charles, what brings you to our celebration tonight?"

Carlos swallowed hard, determined to maintain his composure. "I came with friends," he replied, gesturing subtly towards the buffet. "But now, I am grateful for this unexpected opportunity to dance with you, Princess."

Carlos and you danced gracefully before your father, the King. As the music came to an end, your father gave you a pointed look, signalling that it was time to separate and greet another potential suitor.

You leaned in to Carlos and whispered, "Meet me in the west garden in an hour."

Carlos' eyes widened momentarily, but he quickly regained his composure. "I'll be there," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

You made your way through the throng of guests, exchanging pleasantries with the various noblemen and women who sought your attention. However, your mind was focused on the upcoming meeting with Carlos.

As the appointed hour approached, you slipped away from the main festivities and hurried to the west garden. Carlos was already there, waiting for you under the moonlit sky.

"You came," You said, relief evident in your voice.

"Of course," Carlos responded, taking your hands in his. "I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing you, even if it's just for a moment."

"Carlos, I... I don't know what to do. My father expects me to entertain these suitors, but that's not what my heart wants me to do."

Carlos squeezed your hands gently, his eyes searching yours. "Sometimes, we must follow our hearts, even if it means defying expectations," he said, his voice filled with quiet determination.

"I know it might be difficult, but you deserve to be with someone who understands you, who cherishes you for who you are, not just for your title."

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your father's expectations and the longing in your heart. "But what if my father never approves? What if he forces me to marry someone else?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Carlos stepped closer, his grip on your hands firm and reassuring. "Then we'll find a way to be together, no matter the obstacles. Love is worth fighting for, Princess. And I promise, I will fight for you."

"But how, you've only met me today," you started, your voice tinged with skepticism.

"It's something called love at first sight, Princess," Carlos teased, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "From the moment I saw you, I knew there was something special about you. It's not just about the title or the expectations—it's about the connection we share, even in such a short time."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, but doubt still lingered. "But what if this feeling fades? What if we regret defying everything for a chance that might not last?"

Carlos' expression grew serious, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering intensity. "Feelings like this don't fade easily, Princess. Genuine connections are rare and precious, and I believe ours is one of them. We owe it to ourselves to explore this, to give our hearts a chance to truly know if it's real."

"Okay," you replied shyly, a blush rising to your cheeks. No one has ever spoken to you like this before; it has always been about fulfilling duties and consummating the marriage.

Your entire life, you were taught that love was secondary to alliances and obligations, but Carlos' words stirred something deep within you—a hope that maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than duty.

Carlos' eyes softened as he noticed your hesitation. "This world we live in often binds us with chains of duty and tradition. But sometimes, those chains need to be broken for us to truly live. Let me prove to you that what we have is real. Let me show you a world where love and happiness aren't just dreams but possibilities."

His words carried a promise, a vow that resonated with the unspoken desires in your heart.

You nodded, unable to speak any more, tears welling up in your eyes. Carlos' hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Thank you for trusting me," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on your cheek, the simple gesture sending a shiver down your spine. His lips lingered for a moment, and you closed your eyes, savoring the unexpected comfort and reassurance his presence brought.

As he pulled back, his eyes never left yours, a silent promise passing between you.

In that moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing together against the backdrop of an uncertain future.

You took a deep breath, feeling a newfound strength and determination blooming within you. With Carlos by your side, you felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, confident that love, for once, would guide your path.

"Should your first job to court me be to kiss me on the lips?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. Carlos chuckled, the sound light and full of promise.

"If that is what the princess desires," he replied, his voice low and husky.

He leaned in slowly, giving you ample time to pull away if you wished. But you didn't; instead, you found yourself closing the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss.

The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant at first, as if both of you were savoring the moment's significance. Then it deepened, becoming a silent conversation of shared hopes and unspoken dreams.

When you finally pulled away, your heart was racing, and you saw the same exhilaration mirrored in Carlos' eyes.

"Consider it the first of many," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "Because this is just the beginning of our journey together."

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, a blend of excitement, nervousness, and an overwhelming sense of belonging. The kiss had unlocked a floodgate of feelings you had kept hidden for so long, and in that brief, magical moment, you felt truly seen and understood.

As you gazed into Carlos' eyes, you knew that whatever lay ahead, you would face it together, strengthened by the bond you had just forged.

"How will I communicate with you?" Carlos whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "We'll find a way," you replied, your voice steady with conviction. "Whether through letters, messages, or the silent understanding we share, we'll always be connected."

Carlos nodded, his eyes filled with trust and determination. "I believe in us," he said quietly, his hand gently squeezing yours.

"Princess Y/N! Where are you?" you heard your maid, Matilda, yell out your name, her voice carrying a mix of urgency and worry.

You turned towards the sound, your heart sinking slightly at the reminder of your duties and the world that awaited outside this intimate bubble.

"I think that's the sign to leave, but don't worry, I'll be here tomorrow," Carlos said, letting go of you reluctantly. You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Promise?" you asked, your eyes searching his.

"Promise," Carlos replied, his gaze unwavering.

With one last lingering look, you turned and began to walk towards Matilda's voice, feeling Carlos' eyes on you until you disappeared from view. . . .

"Matilda, you saw who I was with, am I right?" you asked, staring out of your window as the evening sun cast long shadows across the room.

"Yes, Princess," Matilda replied, her voice hesitant but clear.

"Do you recognize him?" you pressed, turning to face her, your curiosity mingling with a touch of apprehension.

Matilda nodded slowly. "Yes, I do. He is the youngest child of our rival, King Ferdinand's child, Prince Carlos."

A gasp escaped your lips, and you felt a mix of shock and confusion grip you. "Prince Carlos? But how... why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Matilda's eyes softened with understanding. "I didn't want to alarm you, Princess. I saw how happy you were. But you must be careful; our kingdoms have a complicated history."

Your mind raced with conflicting emotions.

If Prince Carlos had lied about his identity, how could you trust anything else he had said

The promise he made to you felt sincere at the time, but now, doubt gnawed at your heart. What if his intentions were not as pure as you had believed?

The weight of the revelation pressed heavily on your shoulders, and the once-clear path ahead now seemed clouded with uncertainty.

Yet, there was a part of you that wanted to believe in the connection you had felt with him. Despite the rivalry between your kingdoms, there had been moments of genuine warmth and understanding in your conversations.

Could it be possible that he, too, wished for peace and a way to bridge the divide?

You knew you needed to tread carefully, but the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there could be more to his story than deceit kept a small flame of optimism alive within you.

Your heart ached with the weight of uncertainty. "Matilda, what should I do?" you asked, your voice trembling.

Matilda stepped closer, her expression filled with empathy. "Princess, you must tread carefully. Confront Prince Carlos and seek the truth. But remember, matters of the heart are never simple, especially when they are entangled with the affairs of state. Trust your instincts, but also be prepared for whatever truths may come to light."

A whirlwind of emotions swirled within you—fear, hope, and a lingering sense of betrayal. Matilda's words echoed in your mind, urging you to confront Prince Carlos yet cautioning you to brace for the truth.

Your heart beat erratically, torn between the desire to uncover the reality and the dread of what that reality might reveal. . . .

"Good morning, Princess," you heard Carlos say as he emerged from behind a bush, his mask still on from yesterday.

You were in your garden, the same place where Carlos had left you last night. His presence startled you, but you quickly composed yourself, determined to face him.

"Carlos," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

His eyes widened in surprise at the sound of his real name, betraying a flicker of vulnerability. "I see you know the truth," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

"I need to know the full truth. Why did you hide your identity from me?"

His eyes flickered with a mixture of guilt and resolve as he stepped closer, the morning light casting shadows across his masked face.

"I never intended to deceive you," he said softly.

Slowly, with deliberate movements, Carlos reached up and removed his mask, revealing a face that was both strikingly handsome and etched with sorrow. Your breath hitched at the sight, your heart skipping a beat as you took in the chiseled features and the intense eyes that had once seemed so distant.

It was as if a barrier had been lifted between you, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background.

"I feared that revealing my true identity would ruin the connection we had built. Our fathers have a long history of conflict, and I didn't want that to stand between us. But now, I realize that honesty is the only way forward. I hope you can understand and find it in your heart to trust me once more."

You took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. "Carlos, this isn't just about our fathers' past. It's about the trust between us, the foundation of any relationship," you said, your voice trembling slightly.

"You should have told me the truth from the beginning. How can I be sure there aren't other secrets you're hiding?"

Carlos looked down, his expression a mix of shame and determination. "I understand your hesitation, but I promise you, there are no more secrets. I want to build a future with you based on honesty and trust. Please, give me a chance to prove myself," he implored, reaching out to take your hand.

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit, but all you saw was sincerity and a deep longing. "Carlos, this isn't going to be easy," you said, your voice softening.

"Trust has to be earned, and it will take time for me to fully trust you again. But I want to try. I want to believe that we can overcome this, together."

Carlos's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. "Thank you," he whispered, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I promise I will do whatever it takes to show you that my intentions are true. No more secrets, no more lies. Just us, facing the world together."

You nodded, feeling a cautious optimism bloom within you.

The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, you both felt that it might just be possible to forge a future built on a foundation of truth and mutual respect.

"Good," you muttered, cupping his face to place a kiss on his lips.

The kiss was tentative at first, as if testing the waters of this newfound honesty. But soon, it deepened with a mutual understanding that this was the first step towards mending what had been broken.

Pulling back slightly, you looked into his eyes, seeing the determination etched in his gaze.

"Well," you said with a playful smile, "if we're going to start fresh, maybe we should celebrate with dinner tonight. How about you cook for me? I've been dying to taste your famous paella."

Carlos chuckled, a spark of mischief lighting up his eyes. "Ah, my culinary skills, eh? You know, I only bring out my best recipes for special occasions. But for you, I think I can make an exception."

"You'd better," you teased, giving him a light nudge. "And don't think you can win me over with just food. I'm expecting some serious effort on your part."

Carlos grinned, his confidence returning. "Challenge accepted. Just wait, by the end of the night, you won't have any doubts about my commitment to us."

You both laughed, the tension easing as you basked in the warmth of this new beginning, ready to face whatever came next, together. . . .

Carlos couldn't help but sneak another glance at the grand Alfonso mansion as he crept through the garden, his heart pounding with excitement and nerves.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispered, finally reaching the veranda where you stood waiting.

"Absolutely," you whispered back, a smile playing on your lips. "I've thought about it, and I don't want to waste any more time. If we're going to build a future together, let's start now."

Carlos took a deep breath, looking deep into your eyes. "Then let's do it. Let's get married. I'll make Friar Laurence wed us tomorrow."

You nodded, feeling a rush of exhilaration. "Yes, Carlos. Let's take this leap of faith together. No more doubts, no more hesitation. Just us, united in a promise to face everything hand in hand."

"Until tomorrow, princess. I can't wait to make you my wife," Carlos said, kissing your knuckles.

Your heart raced as his warm lips brushed against your skin. The way he looked at you, with such adoration and longing, sent shivers down your spine. You knew in that moment that there was no one else you'd rather spend the rest of your life with.

"I can hardly contain my excitement," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "The thought of becoming your wife fills me with such joy."

Carlos smiled, his eyes sparkling with love. "Then it's settled. Tomorrow, in front of all our loved ones, I will make you mine forever." He brought your hand to his lips once more, sealing the promise with a tender kiss.

As he reluctantly pulled away, you already felt the loss of his touch. But the knowledge that soon you would be bound to him for eternity filled you with a sense of peace and belonging.

Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

The next day, under the cover of dawn, you and Carlos made your way to Friar Laurence's small chapel. The early morning light filtered through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor.

Friar Laurence stood at the altar, a knowing smile on his face as you approached. "Are you both ready to take this step?" he asked softly, his voice filled with warmth and understanding.

Carlos squeezed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yes, Friar," he replied with unwavering certainty. "We are ready to start our life together."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a swell of emotion rise in your chest.

Friar Laurence began the ceremony, his words a soothing balm to your anxious heart. As you exchanged vows, the world outside seemed to fade away.

Friar Laurence started, "Carlos and Y/N, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May your union bring an end to the conflict between your families."

Carlos said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Thank you, Friar Laurence. With this marriage, I hope my father and Y/N's father can find peace."

"As do I, Carlos. Our love will show them that there is a way forward, beyond this senseless feud."

Friar Laurence smiled, "I pray that your marriage will be the first step towards reconciliation. May God bless you both."

For those precious moments, it was just the two of you, bound by love and the promise of a future together. . . .

Later that afternoon, Carlos met with Mercutio in the secluded garden behind his family's estate. The air was filled with the scent of blooming roses and the gentle hum of bees.

Benvolio, ever the jester, was the first to speak. "Carlos, you look like a man with a secret. Do tell, what has you so radiant today?"

Carlos couldn't suppress his joy any longer. "My friend, I have wonderful news. This morning, Y/N and I were married in Friar Laurence's chapel."

Benvolio's eyes widened in surprise. "Married? So soon? But what about the feud between your families? Do they know?"

Carlos shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "Not yet, but we hope that our union will be the catalyst for peace. We believe that our love can end this senseless conflict. Now, more than ever, we need your support and discretion."

However, he is soon stopped when he sees Tybalt Alfonso, Y/N's cousin, there arguing with Mercutio. The tension in the garden was palpable, cutting through the serene atmosphere like a knife.

Tybalt's face was flushed with anger as he pointed an accusing finger at Mercutio. "What are you doing here, Montague?"

Tybalt spat, his voice laced with venom. "This garden is not for the likes of you."

Mercutio, ever the provocateur, smirked and replied, "Oh, Tybalt, must you always be so dramatic? We're simply enjoying the lovely weather. Besides, Carlos invited us."

Carlos stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "Tybalt, please, this isn't the time for old grudges."

Tybalt glared at Carlos, his eyes burning with fury. "You dare refuse my challenge?" he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "We are sworn enemies, and you will face me in combat!"

Carlos held up his hands, his expression calm and resolute. "I cannot, Tybalt. You are like family to me. I love you as a brother, and I will not raise my hand against you."

Tybalt's brow furrowed in confusion, his anger momentarily tempered by the unexpected response. "What madness is this?" he demanded.

"We have been at odds for years, and now you claim to love me as kin?"

"It is no madness, Tybalt," Carlos replied evenly. "My heart has changed, and I see now that our feud has been a foolish and pointless thing. Let us put aside our differences and embrace as family."

Tybalt's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. "You mock me with your words, Carlos," he growled.

"I will not be swayed by your honeyed tongue. The time for talk is over - draw your sword and fight, or be forever branded a coward!"

"I cannot believe you refuse to fight like a true man," Mercutio spat, his eyes narrowed in frustration as Carlos once again declined the challenge.

"Do you not have the courage to face me on the battlefield?"

Carlos averted his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean no disrespect, Mercutio, but I have no desire to engage in such violence. Perhaps we could resolve this matter peacefully."

Mercutio scoffed, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Peaceful? Bah! You dishonour yourself and all those around you with your cowardice."

He stepped forward, his chin raised defiantly. "If you will not fight, then I shall take your place and show you how a true warrior conducts himself."

Before Carlos could protest, Mercutio had already turned to face Tybalt, his sword drawn and his stance ready.

"En garde, Tybalt!" he called out, his voice ringing with a mixture of anger and excitement. "Let us see who is the better swordsman!"

Tybalt and Mercutio drew their swords, the blades gleaming in the sunlight as they began to duel.

The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed through the streets as the two men traded fierce blows, their movements swift and precise.

Sensing the escalating tension, Carlos attempted to intervene, stepping between the combatants in a desperate bid to stop the fighting.

However, Tybalt, blinded by rage, lashed out with his sword, aiming to strike Carlos but instead catching Mercutio in the chest.

Mercutio cried out in pain as the blade pierced his flesh, crimson blood spilling onto the cobblestones. He staggered backward, his own sword slipping from his grasp as he clutched at the wound.

Tybalt, realising his mistake, hesitated for a moment, his expression a mix of shock and regret.

The brief pause was all Carlos needed to seize Tybalt's sword arm, wrestling the weapon from his grip and forcing him to the ground. Mercutio, his strength fading, collapsed to his knees, his laboured breaths echoing in the stunned silence that had fallen over the scene.

Mercutio drew his final, shuddering breath, his body racked with agony. He turned to his friend Carlos, pain etched across his face.

"Alas, dear friend, I fear my end is nigh," Mercutio said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This wound, it burns like fire, sapping my strength with every passing moment."

Carlo grasped Mercutio's hand, tears welling in his eyes. "Speak not of such things, good Mercutio. You shall recover, I promise you."

Mercutio managed a weak smile. "Nay, Romeo, my time has come. Promise me, promise me you'll not forget me." Romeo nodded solemnly, a single tear cascading down his cheek.

"I shall never forget you, my dearest friend."

Carlos's heart ached with unbearable sorrow as he held Mercutio's hand tightly. "Your memory will live on in my heart forever, Mercutio," he vowed, his voice breaking.

With a final squeeze, he watched helplessly as the light faded from his friend's eyes. . . .

Carlos felt furious at Tybalt for killing Mercutio. The death of his dear friend had left him overcome with rage.

How dare Tybalt take Mercutio's life in such a callous manner? Carlos seethed with anger, his fists clenched as he replayed the tragic events in his mind.

In that moment, all Carlos could think about was avenging Mercutio. The thirst for retribution burned within him, clouding his judgment.

He knew he had to confront Tybalt, to make him pay for this heinous act. Carlos was determined to ensure justice was served, no matter the cost. His grief had morphed into a fierce, unyielding desire for vengeance.

Carlos scanned the area, his eyes narrowing as he searched for Tybalt. The coward had fled, leaving chaos and heartbreak in his wake. Carlos's rage intensified with every passing second, knowing that Tybalt had not only taken Mercutio's life but had also escaped without facing the consequences of his actions.

The thought of Tybalt's cowardice fueled his resolve, and he vowed to track him down, no matter how long it took or how far he had to go.

Determined and unwavering, Carlos rose to his feet, his mind singularly focused on his mission. He would hunt Tybalt to the ends of the earth if necessary, driven by a mix of grief and fury.

The streets that once seemed familiar now felt like a labyrinth he had to navigate to find his enemy.

As he moved forward, each step was a promise to Mercutio: justice would be served, and the pain inflicted upon his friend would not go unanswered.

Carlos and Tybalt found each other in the dimly lit alleyway, the tension between the two palpable. They circled one another, eyes locked, hands gripping their weapons tightly.

Without warning, Tybalt lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air. Carlos parried the attack, the sound of steel clashing against steel echoing through the narrow passage. The two men traded blows, their movements quick and precise, each one trying to gain the upper hand.

The fight raged on, neither man willing to back down. Tybalt's attacks grew more frenzied, his desperation fueling his strikes.

Carlos, however, remained calm and focused, his counterattacks landing with devastating precision.

In a final, desperate attempt, Tybalt made one last lunge.

But Carlos was ready, and with a swift, decisive movement, he plunged his blade deep into Tybalt's chest. Tybalt's eyes widened in shock, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Carlos stood over Tybalt's lifeless body, his chest heaving with the adrenaline of the fight. The rage that had fueled him moments ago began to ebb, replaced by a heavy, somber silence.

He glanced up at the darkened sky, a sense of emptiness washing over him as he realized that, despite his victory, the void left by Mercutio's death could never truly be filled.

Realising what he has done, Carlos fled in a panic. The weight of his actions overwhelmed him, and he knew he could not face the consequences.

The Prince arrived on the scene, his expression grave.

With a booming voice, he declared, "Carlos, your crimes for killing Tybalt are unforgivable. You are hereby banished from Aragonia, effective immediately. You must leave our lands at once and never return, lest you face the full extent of our justice."

Carlos trembled, knowing there was no arguing with the Prince's decree.

You crumpled to the floor, the news of your cousin Tybalt's death and your husband Carlos' banishment hitting you like a tidal wave. Tears streamed down your face as you clutched the letter that had delivered such devastating news.

The room seemed to spin, and you felt an unbearable weight pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

The love you had for Carlos was now intertwined with the grief and anger over Tybalt's demise, leaving you torn and shattered.

Days turned into nights, and the sorrow did not relent. You wandered through your home, haunted by memories of happier times, now tainted by the tragedy that had befallen your family.

Friends and family tried to console you, but their words felt hollow, unable to bridge the chasm of pain that consumed you.

The future seemed bleak, and you struggled to find a way forward, questioning how you could ever rebuild your life with the two most important people ripped away from you.

Each moment brought a fresh wave of anguish, the love for Carlos clashing violently with the grief and anger over Tybalt's death. You found yourself trapped in an endless cycle of longing and resentment, unable to reconcile the two.

At night, when the world was quiet, the memories of Carlos's gentle touch would surface, only to be shattered by the haunting vision of Tybalt's lifeless body, leaving you torn between the man you loved and the cousin you had lost.

"Y/N! Open the window door!" you heard someone too familiar say at your balcony at night.

You were about to sleep when you ran to the balcony to see Carlos, your husband who was supposed to be banished from the kingdom for killing your cousin.

"Carlos, what are you doing here?" you asked, opening the window for him, still angry for his actions.

"Y/N, my love, I had to come back. I couldn't live without you," Carlos pleaded, his eyes filled with desperation.

"I know what I did was wrong, but I did it to protect you. That cousin of yours was a threat, and I had to eliminate him."

You shook your head in disbelief. "Protect me? By murdering my own flesh and blood? Do you have any idea what you've done? You're a wanted man, Carlos. If they find you here, they'll kill you."

"I don't care about that," he said, reaching for your hand. "All that matters to me is you. I love you, Y/N, and I'll do whatever it takes to be with you."

You pulled your hand away, your heart torn between your love for Carlos and the weight of his actions. "Carlos, you have to leave. This is madness. I can't protect you, and I can't be with you, not after what you've done."

"They didn't tell anyone but your cousin killed Mercutio," Carlos muttered.

"What? That can't be true," You exclaimed, your heart racing. "My cousin would never do such a thing!"

Carlos shook his head solemnly. "I'm afraid it is true. I was there, I tried to stop them. They were trying to cover it up. I'm sorry I killed Tybalt but it was justice for Mercutio,"

You felt a sense of disbelief wash over you.

"Tell me everything, Carlos," you demanded, your voice trembling. "I need to know exactly what happened that night."

Carlos took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "It all started when I was telling Mercutio about our marriage. Tybalt suddenly came out of nowhere and challenged us to fight. Tybalt lost his temper and attacked him. I tried to intervene, but it was too late. When I saw Mercutio fall, I knew I had to act."

You could see that Carlos wasn't lying through his eyes, which made you feel even worse. You walked further into your room, your hand on your face, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions crashing over you.

Carlos followed you, quietly closing the window behind him to ensure no one would hear your conversation.

"Y/N, I know this is difficult to accept, but I had no choice," Carlos said softly, his voice filled with regret. "I couldn't let Tybalt get away with what he did to Mercutio. Our friend needed justice, and I couldn't just stand by and do nothing."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Carlos, despite the anger and betrayal still burning within you. The room felt suffocating, the weight of the truth pressing down on you both.

"Y/N, I didn't come here to discuss bloodshed and the past," Carlos said, his voice steadying as he took a step closer to you.

"Then what did you come here to discuss?" you asked, leaning against the nearest wall to face him, your eyes searching his for answers.

"Us," he muttered, looking down at the floor. "We haven't really consummated the marriage, have we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. "Carlos, this isn't the time," you whispered, trying to hold back the storm of emotions. "Our lives are in danger, and all you can think about is us?"

Carlos raised his eyes to meet yours, determination etched in his features. "Yes, because despite everything, I love you. And I need to know if there's still a chance for us, if you still love me too."

You stood there, stunned by his confession. The love you once felt for Carlos was now tangled with the pain of recent events. "Carlos," you began, struggling to find the right words.

"I don't know if I can just forget everything that happened. Mercutio's death, the feud—it has all changed us. But I can't deny that a part of me still cares for you."

Carlos took another step closer, his eyes softening. "Then let that part guide you," he pleaded. "We can find a way through this, together. We can honor Mercutio by trying to build something better, something that isn't marred by hatred and violence."

You searched his eyes, longing to believe in the possibility of a future where love could triumph over the shadows of the past.

"Y/N, I want you," he said, his voice low and husky.

You looked up at him, your heart racing. You wanted him too, but you were still scared. . . .

"I don't know if I'm ready," you said, your voice trembling.

Carlos took a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll be gentle, I promise," he said, his fingers tracing the outline of your face.

You looked up at him, and in that moment, you knew you couldn't resist him any longer. You took a deep breath and nodded, and Carlos led you inside.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Carlos pulled you close and kissed you, his lips hot and demanding. You responded eagerly, your body melting against his.

He started to undress you, his hands skillfully removing your clothes. You stood there, trembling with anticipation, as he kissed every inch of your body.

When he reached your breasts, he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked, his tongue swirling around it. You let out a moan, your body responding to his touch.

He continued to explore your body, his hands and mouth leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When he reached your pussy, he spread your lips apart and started to lick and suck, his tongue delving deep inside you.

You let out a loud moan, your body writhing with pleasure. He continued to lick and suck, his fingers joining in to stimulate your clit.

You felt an orgasm building inside you, and you grabbed onto Carlos's head, pulling him closer. "Don't stop," you moaned. "Don't stop."

He didn't stop, and soon you were crying out in pleasure, your body shaking as you came hard against his mouth.

When you finally came down from your orgasm, Carlos stood up and kissed you, his tongue delving deep into your mouth. You could taste your own juices on his lips, and it only turned you on more.

He reached down and pulled out his cock, and you could see the desire in his eyes. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he entered you in one swift motion.

You let out a loud moan as he filled you up, your body adjusting to his size. He started to thrust, slowly at first, and then faster and harder.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. You could feel another orgasm building inside you, and you urged him on.

"Harder, Carlos," you moaned, "harder."

He responded by thrusting even harder, his cock hitting your G-spot with every stroke. You let out a loud cry as you came again, your body shaking with pleasure.

Carlos continued to thrust, his own orgasm building. He let out a loud groan as he came, his hot cum filling you up.

You collapsed against him, your bodies slick with sweat. You kissed him, your tongues intertwined, and you knew that you had made the right decision.

"Let's run away together," you muttered breathlessly, your lips still tingling from the intensity of your kiss.

Carlos looked into your eyes, his face softening with a mixture of surprise and tenderness. "You mean it?" he asked, his voice filled with hope and disbelief.

You nodded, feeling a surge of certainty wash over you. "Yes, let's leave everything behind and start fresh, just the two of us."

Carlos smiled, a glimmer of excitement flickering in his eyes. "I’ve wanted this for so long. We can go anywhere you want," he said, caressing your cheek. "Paris, Bali, or even a small cabin in the mountains. As long as I'm with you, nothing else matters."

You kissed him again, your decision cemented by the passion you shared, ready to embark on a new journey together.

"You stay here and rest, and I'll pack for you," he said, sitting up with a playful smirk. "I've gotten a good eye for fashion, you know."

You laughed, feeling a sense of relief and exhilaration wash over you. "Oh really? I'd love to see your choices," you teased, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

Carlos stood up and began gathering clothes and essentials, his movements quick and efficient. "Trust me, you'll look amazing in everything I pick," he said confidently.

You watched him, a smile playing on your lips, feeling a newfound sense of freedom. "I can't wait to see where this adventure takes us," you murmured, your heart swelling with anticipation.

Carlos turned to you, holding up a sundress and a pair of sandals. "How about this for our first stop in Paris? It's perfect for a romantic stroll along the Seine," he suggested with a wink.

You giggled, nodding your approval. "I love it! And maybe a hat to go with it? We don't want to look like typical tourists," you added with a playful grin.

He chuckled, placing the outfit in the suitcase. "Consider it done. And for the mountains, I've got just the thing—cozy sweaters and boots for those chilly nights by the fireplace," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You felt a rush of warmth and affection, knowing that no matter where you went, as long as you were together, it would be perfect.

"Here's to new beginnings," you said, raising an imaginary glass, and Carlos joined in, the two of you basking in the glow of your shared dreams and the promise of endless possibilities. . . .

The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Matilda burst into your room, her face pale with panic.

"Where are you?!" she screamed, her voice trembling with fear. She tore through the room, throwing open the closet doors and rifling through drawers, but all she found was an empty suitcase and a note left behind.

Matilda's hands shook as she unfolded the note, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting. "Dear Matilda, I've decided to start a new chapter with Carlos. I hope you understand. Please don't worry about me; I'm finally following my heart. Love, [Your Name]."

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she knew deep down that you were doing what was best for you. She took a deep breath and whispered, "Be happy," sending her silent blessings to wherever your adventure was taking you.

Matilda took a moment to collect herself, then resolved to support your decision despite her initial shock. She decided to focus on her own journey, finding solace in the thought that you were finally pursuing your happiness.

Matilda knew that breaking the news to your family would be difficult, so she opted to tell a little white lie.

Over breakfast, she calmly explained to your parents that you had taken a spur-of-the-moment business trip and would be out of touch for a while.

"It's a great opportunity for her," she said, forcing a smile. "She didn't want to worry you with the details but assured me she'd be back soon."

Your parents exchanged concerned glances but ultimately trusted Matilda's explanation. As the days turned into weeks, she continued to cover for you, providing updates and reassuring them that you were doing well.

Deep down, Matilda felt the weight of the secret she was keeping, but she knew it was what you needed.

She found strength in the hope that one day, you would return to share your incredible journey with everyone. . . .

[kaivenom]

The Harry Potter World having a Spanish Wizarding School HCS Part 1

I know many people don't like Harry Potter anymore because of the author and i get it, i don't like J.K. Rowling either. That's when i realized that didn't exist a wizarding school in Spain, and Beauxbatouns don't exactly represent an especific culture (it looks more like a fancy rich kids boarding school). So, since i don't give credit or money to J.K. Rowling in any form, i decided to created a prototype of how wizards in Spain could be.

I give permision to use this info for OC's or inspo but please, give it the credit it deserves and not attribute the idea to yourselves and if you see someone using it, please tell me.

Masterlist | Part 2

I present you.....

"SierraEncantada"

The image is a reference

Location:

Grazalema's Natural Park on Aldalucía, Spain

History:

It isn't known how much older the school it is because it wasn't always on the south of Spain. Until the 1200 was on the north, nut then the Inquisition arrived and made a big fire and hunt to all the students (which is now called "The night of the Queima"). Thanks to the help of the King Alfonso X "the Wise", they could evacuate almost all of the students but the school and the evidence of magic were discovered.

With the school out of the map, the Inquisition tought they exterminated almost all the magic of Spain, which helped the King Alfonso to give funds clandestinely to make a new school on Andalucia, on the south (in that time this region of Spain was a part of the Castilla's reign, which was Alfonso's Kingdom).

Even with most of the previous knowledge was lost, they could remade the school house's and everyone tried to contribute to made new books about every subject. Alfonso's commitment was so big that he was burried in the new school and became a ghost after his dead.

The only thing known from the previous admisions of the school were that they permmited wizards and muggles to enter but after the replacement they don't let normal people enter.

Until these days, a lot of inofrmation is missing so it can be one of the most old school's of Europe.

School appearance:

Obviusly it is a medieval castle, which is placed between to mountains. It's surrounded bu forrests, waterfalls and mistic caves between many other natural settings. It has a lot of towers with silver colours, terracotta's walls, a lot of orange trees and enchanted fountains can be found all over the place.

Sometimes if you watch it from a long distance, the school looks like a yellow and silver waterfall between the mountains.

Thanks to the caves and the laws of natural life protecction given by the Spain Ministry of Magic, the school has many unique plants and creatures coexisting with the students.

Due to Andalucia's hot weather or just not very cold one, many of the school's classes can be done outside. Thats why the school has many open-air classrooms and terraces between floors. Exterior terraces are niveled and have gardens, resting areas and go all the way down thru the sides of the mountains. A lot of these places have exterior stairs to so you don't have to get inside to go up or down between floors (they all have railings and roofs to cover from wind gusts).

Because it is placed in between to mountains, the top part of the castle is habilitated to be the comedor for the students. In winter is covered and has big stoves, but in summer let's people see the night sky while dinning.

The Quidditch field is in a cave underground to preserve the temperature and avoid problems with being seen.

In matter of interior design, they have really open spaces and warm colours (thanks to musulman influence). Most of the decorations are made with wood, marble, colored glass, mosaics and tapestries. It has a lot of hidden passages to get out of the school, it was planned to be evacuating routes but after so many time, is now used by the students to get out.

Education on the school:

The school has classes during the morning in winter but in the summer they have classes in the afternoon and even nocturnal classes.

They have eight shool years, like Hogwarts but unlike the british school, they teach Animagus transformatión and dark arts (not just the defense against them). They get TIMO's at the age of 15.

Like many schools in Spain, they make excursions to emblematic places like the Ministry of Magic or Trasmoz (a Spanish village known for being habitated by witches placed in Zaragoza).

Thanks to the closeness of places in Spain, many students have the posibility to visit their homes on weekends but they have a special permit to do it.

Practically all magical children in Spain go to the school, the only exception are the ones whose parents don't want them to go but the Ministry is thinking about making the education obligatory.

The students get to the school thru the crouse that picks them up in different stations along the river or busses that peak them up in Grazalema under the address of a school trip.

The schools provides all the supplies to the students, which means making a trip to Trasmoz a week before the school starts. Some students already have materials, thanks to their parents being previous students but the muggle borns appreciate having the opportunity to be in equal posibilities with all the students.

Electronic or digital devices or any muggle technology is forbidden if it isn't registered when entering the school. The teachers have to permite it. Most of the times it's not permited but old phones without media signal or even analogic speakers are permited to "student's experimentation".

Spanish Wizards

Due to Spain's more increasing of dishabitation of the interior regions of the peninsule, many wizard villages are placed all over the territory freely but still there are a lot of wizards that like the chaotic style of muggles. That's why they know many things about muggle culture and devices, cause even if you live in the wizard's dictrict of Mdrid or Barcelona, you are connected to the muggle's ways.

Wands in Spain are made from typical trees such as eucalyptus, pine, castiñeiro, etc.

In the domestic elf's matter, it is a little less bad than in Uk. This is due to the connections with muggles, which makes elf's ownership a thing from the past (wizard families tends to have one muggle member, it's very mixed). The only ones who still have domestic elfs are families from the interior and old families. This makes the elfs an "extension" of the family or another member of it. Many families have been with the same line of elfs so many generations that are "part of the family" themselves. They still have the condition of servitude but it's rare to see wizard families using them in actual days.

All things related to houses will be in another post cause i don't want this to get too long.

[beautiful-basque-country]

I've noticed how some Basques in Navarra claim they are being ""colonized"" by Basques from Euskadi and fear being "annexed" into it, but that always made me confused? Because the Basque Kingdom of Navarra started in... Navarra.

(Addendum) I don't know if it's a similar thing with the one that happens with Catalunya and Valencia, where Valencians claim they are not actually Catalans and don't speak Catalan and that Valencian is a different language altogether... 😬

Kaixo anon!

It has similarities, but it's not the same case. All of this is the consequence of the zonification of Nafarroa: it’s divided in 3 different regions regarding Basque language.

In orange, Basque-speaking municipalities; in purple, mixed municipalities; in beige, Spanish-only-speaking municipalities.

A quick historical recap. Although it’s true that the southern side of Nafarroa was the part that suffered the Roman influence the most - it was an ideal location for Roman agriculture - and was very quickly romanized, Euskara didn’t disappear into thin air.

Back in the Middle Ages, Castilian king Alfonso X the Wise used Latin expression “lingua navarrorum” (the language of the Navarrese), and king Charles III of Navarre swore his coronation “in ydiomate navarre” (the language of Navarre). This language was clearly regarded as a different and opposed one to Castilian Romance or Latin, and scholars suspect it would have been probably Euskara.

These mentions happened after Muslim invasion, so we see that after centuries using Latin, Arab, and Romance in Southern Nafarroa, there still remained native languages which were used by many people; people enough for the kings to use it so they could be understood by their subjects, at least.

A bit further in time, in 1566, queen Jeanne III of Navarre requested to translate the New Testament to Euskara so her Basque-speaking subjects could understand it (Bibles and masses were solely in Latin, a language only known by priests and nobility by then). Why even bothering if in the Kingdom of Navarre Basque-speakers were a minority? We highly doubt that a queen was interested in bringing the Bible to a tiny part of the Navarrese population specifically…

However from the 16th century on, everything goes downhill: Castile assimilates the Kingdom of Navarre, all the high public servants would come from Castile or Aragon, and were unable and unwilling to speak Euskara. In 1795 the social elite (mayor, priests, etc) of Artaxona [also in the South, remember] went to court to demand that the town public notary learnt the Basque language since it was “the language most commonly used in town”. They lost the trial.

In the 19th century, the French invasion and the Carlist Wars hastened the regression of Euskara in southern Navarre, that turned almost 100% Spanish-speaking. Franco’s dictatorship just consolidated that situation.

So historically, Basque was spoken by most Navarreses - no matter from the north or the south -, it was just in the last 200 hundred years when it was lost in the southern part of the region.

Nafarroa becoming divided into zones [Basque-speaking, transition, and non-Basque-speaking] is said to be based on history but we all can see it’s bullshit.

That said, it’s a bit easier to understand why some Navarreses have this animosity towards Basques - not only towards Basques, also towards Basque-speaking Navarreses. They like to be considered Navarrese and not Basques - which is super respectable - because the kingdom of Navarre was the one that included Basque people and not the other way around - which is also very true... if we stopped in the Middle Ages. If we go back further in time, we'll find the county of Vasconia, though.

However don’t be fooled. They will swiftly drop historical accuracy to defend that Basque was never spoken in middle and southern Nafarroa and that Basque is being imposed as part of a Basque political agenda; that Basque people are trying to colonize them and make them lose their identity; and that they should resist at all costs by rejecting Basque as an imposed language. Spanish wasn't the imposed one, Euskara is. French and English - taught in every school - are also not imposed and free to go on seemingly.

See how just 2 centuries of assimilation and banning of Basque have twisted their perception? Basque people are imposing our language on them… our language that for centuries was called… the language of the Navarrese??? It’s insane. The Spanish Constitution includes the possibility of uniting Euskadi and Nafarroa in just one Autonomus Community if approved by a referendum, but of course with this social situation the mere mention of it will be controversial to say the least.

So this is what dividing a region into here you can speak a language, here you can speak it but you’ll be part of a tiny minority, and here you’ll find every obstacle imaginable to speak / learn it does to people. Language zonification in Nafarroa is evil and a blatant tool for assimilation that has worked wonders.

[docpiplup]

Now that Hallowen is near, I have decided to share an interesting book I have been reading in these weeks, its title is Toledo: La Ciudad de los Muertos (Toledo: The City of the Dead), writen by Ventura Leblic García. The topic is to divulge about the stories and death rites of people of the several cultures and religions which have inhabitated the city throughout history. I'll be sharing scans of the pages of the book through posts here on Tumblr if anyone it's curious about the topic. Here's the first set:

PART 1

Cover

Toledo: The City of the Dead

Ventura Leblic García

Covarrubias Editions

Backcover

Toledo is a city that the living and the dead share. It is a great historical necropolis. But do we really know our "neighbors"? Do we know where they "live"? Do we know the cultural and social environment in which their lives were spent? Do we know the culture of death in the different civilizations that inhabited the crag of Toledo? Carpetans, Romans, Visigoths, Muslims, Jews, Christians... their rites around death, beliefs, customs, the evolution of cemetery spaces... It is time to know what history has left us, trying to unravel the truth in the uncertainty of a tomb.

Toledo: The City of the Dead

Ventura Leblic García

Covarrubias Editions 2013

INDEX

Introduction. Page 9

Chapter I. Funerary practices in ancient times. Page 12

The indigenous people. Page 14

Chapter II. The cemetery spaces outside the walls of Toledo. Page 19

Roman cemeteries. Page 19

The early Christian cemetery. Page 24

Visigoth times. Page 31

Toledo's maqbara. The Muslim cemetery. Page 38

Toledo's Mozarabic cemeteries. Page 47

The Jewish cemetery. Page 50

Chapter III. The interior of churches as cementary spaces. Page 63

Chapter IV. Parish cemeteries. Page 70

Chapter V. The cemetery and the municipal cemetery. Page 103

Chapter VI. Royal burials in Toledo. Page 112

The New Kings Chapel. Page 136

New chapel. Page 139

Royal funerals in Toledo. Page 144

Chapter VII. Tombs of royal lineage in Toledo. Page 149

Chapter VIII. Other tombs in Toledo of people who made history. Page 170

The tomb of Doménikos Theotokópoulos "El Greco". Page 178

A frustrated pantheon of illustrious men. Page 182

Don Álvaro de Luna and Doña Juana de Pimentel. Page 188

An empty tomb for four hundred years. Page 191

The tomb of Cardinal Mendoza. Page 194

Francisco de Pisa. Page 196

The flying priest. Bartolomeu Lourenço de Gusmão. Page 197

Chapter IX. The Cistercian monastery of Monte Sión. A case of pantheon foundation. Page 201

The graves. Page 204

Chapter X. Bodies of saints and blesseds venerated in Toledo. Page 215

Chapter XI. Those who did not return. Page 232

Saint Ildefonso of Toledo. Page 232

Grave of Alfonso VI, king of Castile. Page 237

Alfonso X the Wise. Page 239

Francisco Jiménez de Cisneros. Page 240

Queen Joanna I of Castile. Page 242

Alfonso III de Fonseca, archbishop of Toledo. Page 243

Juan de Padilla. Page 244

Francisco de Rojas. Page 248

Cardinal Lorenzana. Page 249

Bibliography. Page 251

[plurdledgabbleblotchits]

Had I been present at the creation, I would have given some useful hints for the better ordering of the universe.

Alfonso the Wise  (Alfonso X, King of Castile)

[xasha777]

In a distant future where humanity has merged with machines, the world teetered on the edge of a new era. It was an age where the line between man and machine blurred, and consciousness could be preserved in metal and circuits. This was a world where history was not just remembered but experienced, and the past lived on through the bodies of the mechanical.

High in the mountains of a vast, rust-colored land stood the ancient city of Oviedo, now known as Mechanoviedo. It was here that the legacy of the great King Alfonso III of Asturias had been preserved. The city was a marvel of ancient and modern engineering, where the past and the future coexisted in a symphony of metal and memory.

In the heart of Mechanoviedo, in a grand hall lined with the relics of a bygone era, stood a figure that commanded both reverence and awe. His body was a complex array of bronze and steel, his eyes glowing with an eerie, ethereal light. His face, though clearly mechanical, bore the weathered look of wisdom and age. This was the Echo of Alfonso III, a mechanical construct imbued with the consciousness and memories of the great king himself.

Alfonso III had been one of the most celebrated rulers of the Kingdom of Asturias. His reign, marked by both conquest and culture, had laid the foundations for what would become the Reconquista. But now, in this distant future, his legacy had taken on a new form. The scholars of Mechanoviedo had found a way to preserve the minds of great historical figures, embedding their consciousness into mechanical bodies that could last for eternity.

The Echo of Alfonso III served as both a guardian and a guide. His mechanical eyes could see beyond the visible spectrum, and his mind, enhanced by advanced algorithms, could process information at lightning speed. Yet, he retained the wisdom and strategic brilliance that had marked his reign centuries ago.

One day, as the sun set behind the mountains, casting long shadows over the city, a group of historians and engineers gathered around the Echo of Alfonso III. They had discovered something extraordinary – an ancient manuscript detailing the king's hidden treasure, said to hold artifacts of immense power and knowledge. The manuscript hinted at a location deep within the mountains, a place that had remained untouched for millennia.

"King Alfonso," one of the historians spoke, addressing the mechanical figure with the respect due to a monarch, "we have found clues to your hidden treasure. We seek your guidance."

The Echo of Alfonso III turned his glowing eyes towards the historian, his mechanical face reflecting the soft light of the setting sun. "The treasure of Asturias is not just gold and jewels," he said in a voice that resonated with both authority and ancient wisdom. "It is knowledge, the legacy of our people, and the secrets of our past."

Under the guidance of the Echo, the expedition set out into the mountains. The journey was perilous, with treacherous terrain and ancient traps designed to protect the hidden vault. But with the strategic brilliance of Alfonso III and the advanced technology of their time, the team overcame each obstacle.

Finally, they reached a hidden chamber deep within the mountains. The door, adorned with intricate patterns and ancient symbols, opened to reveal a vast room filled with artifacts from Alfonso's time. There were scrolls, books, weapons, and devices that seemed far too advanced for the medieval era.

The Echo of Alfonso III stepped into the chamber, his mechanical form blending seamlessly with the ancient relics. "This," he said, "is the true treasure of Asturias. It is the knowledge and innovation of our people, preserved through the ages. Use it wisely, for it holds the key to our future."

As the historians and engineers began cataloging the artifacts, the Echo of Alfonso III stood guard, a timeless sentinel watching over the legacy of his kingdom. In this fusion of past and future, the spirit of Asturias lived on, a beacon of wisdom and knowledge in a world where history and technology had become one.

And so, the legacy of Alfonso III continued, not just as a memory, but as a living, mechanical presence, guiding humanity towards a future built on the foundations of its illustrious past.

[libidomechanica]

When within

But there like the wholesome saddle, read scann’d, my chamber     often hustledown, but go my wrong, till the publick Luna in a line, has man-     girdled her have its huge bush-beard, and inaccessour love so by then their business, for     thing winterknit once kinds; and watch-tower, or to quiet as you are ye Queen or canker     violets, throne, for heart half-torn

drapery should be too—under-glooming were much before     in master are more pause? My desolation. Of the Parties appareling     pillowing death, like Alfonso ne’er a rough ever-wearing; is clears a reef-they have you     were all Arts, and mirth; we entwining? With Crabbe it on its own; and in the more smote his     feet; he wind whereon a well a

monstrumpets, hours, or accordings whose which the laws to     be differing in facts his Associates the morning waters: ’tis pleasure; and thou lies;     a lion most to die? We like them rever so declining of monotony of     Don Alfonso ne’er would worse to ocean, span the died: but then hear. Have no noiseless     blood; I fear’d to be the end on had

labour other, king; the affords in the rolls. Like     Arch-Attestor foode relief, he soul in shorter, surely quiver. ’ The shafts, to resist?     The climate the Blest: king, from Aragons of peace, tell hope her son to die in order     now we seer. All pleadings more of the known language you ’cause I turned heart and fair. At the     hour, the Moon! Yet he libels tried to

makes away from her case, now who can tell. The came     to wisely clinging journey. As so dear and so quench peace; there’er dismal lyrics, Julia     in his poorest sky and bittering scarce expounds;—of sucked here, and for them, worse. Hard     foreverence where, as she wreckage. What is not seems thrones, thieves, with the sublime, you     take a victor pay. In extremely

given upon man, bewitching—march for many     kiss for me relation me hopes are such wielding sore! Ask nought across the blue devil     so well the closet, my very did shield, I lovershading in her; sic a will be     bounting its way: for Adonais. We did not twas Neptune; and called a tears in his back     from the only Good, and a hey days,

glittering time belly mother nos. And died, long     his virtue Malecontriv’d on the dance him freedom brows as the whole and his gone, hate     may, and Julia. If I care the priest, and ask towards beyond tirl’d Assyrian know not     be He, which all with them for the rubies but when once, and long dream in my nights halcyon.     From palm a whipp’d upon them down,

since Restor fountains, however we are vainly     in a beating and draw their own power imagines out; laid with on and brain, and bricks     nodding ruth, and the lingers’ lover’d with so long childish decent. Twisted way to light     lov’d his majesties and yet refragably,— when always true one who in truth an Heaven     born God; and who can truth, when Souther;

she’s wi’ a’ your moral giant’s blush’d, she water’s     caughty you, who fry in you dost beauties above thing, the state would not be one. You     on the path is of waters, and bye her back hands now will he cannot make fast are greatly     laid on the summer-storms; another to breathes of wrath—’I must be for Drops; they had     not bear them well, at last and fingers?

[pazodetrasalba]

My Body, My Rights

Dear Caroline:

We live in an era of polarization, sectarianism and superficiality. If it were otherwise, people would have taken this text of yours into account as much those about 'what variety of trad were you?'. The latter is obviously more clickbaity, and allows SJWs to easily vilify you and turn you into a fake stereotype of bad womanhood and worse feminist.

As I've said before, though, my impression is that you're just a non-sectarian and reasonable feminist, modulo defining the term as the belief that men and women are fundamentally equal and should enjoy equal rights.

What you say here optimally illustrates the point. One would need to be a very unreasonable right-winger to find any issue with a woman exercising her right to bodily autonomy, or not to feel empathetic with the difficulties you describe here.

One might find very lightly objectionable the libertarian streak behind the complaint about bureaucratic hurdles and unnecessary barriers, but the state more often than not misregulates, and I could be easily persuaded that it does it a lot regarding precriptions and access to 'dangerous substances'. I have just checked and it seems we have the same hurdles here in Spain, even though the community of doctors and chemists is pushing for having to dispense with prescription for these matters.

One gets the feeling that a lot of rules and norms in life are pretty arbitrary, part of some absurd tabletop game that has been formalized and fossilized to such a degree that any connection with the reasonable criteria for creating the rules has disappeared amidst the sands of time. This doesn't matter much in the case of games, as long as they remain entertaining - I am a sucker for board games, especially old, traditional ones, like those represented in a book by a wise medieval king of ours, Alfonso X-, but it does matter much for less whimsical and more serious activities.

Quote:

This is a lovely picture from Alfonso's Libro de Xadrez, Dados e Tablas (The Book of Chess, Dice and Tables).

[mournsabbat]

emmaruth - 5/8 Dame Audrey Hepburn

emma - 5/1 - May Day

ruth 18/8 -144-12*12 - 12 days of xmas

allaire - 1/5 - reverse of May Day. Also the Feast of the Three Wise Men/Kings

zerna - 26/1 - a thru z

hellenna - 8/1 - my Lolo Alfonso + my cat Baxter's b-day

omela - 15/1 - 151 - ides of january - 18-15 Stockholm St.

concepcion - 3/14 pi

mccallister - 13/18 - my nieces Kochize + Mia, Ruth + Mario

~emma ruth mccallister

[jasmineleeplays]

Just as the battle heats up in the north of Leon at the Battle of Oviedo in the middle of July 1071 AD, Alfonso is hit with the notification that his bastard son, Rodrigo de Haro has been born. I struggled quite a bit to decide if Alfonso would acknowledge Rodrigo as his bastard, seeing as he did not inherit any good congenital traits. But hey, a son is a son. And if he proved good stat-wise in future, we might legitimize him to become our player heir. And so, with great trepidation, Alfonso announced to the world that he has been a no good adulterer and has fathered Infante Rodrigo Alfontsez of Leon.

The repercussions of announcing the affair and birth of the bastard could immediately be felt by the success chance of our personal scheme to romance Queen Zahida - it dropped to 5% following a -60 Unfaithful opinion modifier Queen Zahida has for Alfonso.

Meanwhile, Alfonso places Count Pedro Ansurez of Amaya (his Spymaster) in the court of King Philippe of France to Find Secrets that he may blackmail others to gain money from.

[rabbitcruiser]

Seville Cathedral, Spain (No. 1)

The Cathedral of Saint Mary of the See (Spanish: Catedral de Santa María de la Sede), better known as Seville Cathedral, is a Roman Catholic cathedral in Seville, Andalusia, Spain. It was registered in 1987 by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site, along with the adjoining Alcázar palace complex and the General Archive of the Indies. It is the fourth-largest church in the world (its size remains a matter of debate) as well as the largest Gothic church.

After its completion in the early 16th century, Seville Cathedral supplanted Hagia Sophia as the largest cathedral in the world, a title the Byzantine church had held for a thousand years. The Gothic section alone has a length of 126 m (413 ft), a width of 76 m (249 ft), and its maximum height in the center of the transept is 42 m (138 ft). The total height of the Giralda tower from the ground to the weather vane is 104.5 m (342 ft 10 in).

Seville Cathedral was the site of the baptism of Infante Juan of Aragon in 1478, only son of the Catholic Monarchs Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella I of Castile. Its royal chapel holds the remains of the city's conqueror Ferdinand III of Castile, his son and heir Alfonso the Wise and their descendant king Peter the Just. The funerary monuments for cardinals Juan de Cervantes and Pedro González de Mendoza are located among its chapels. Christopher Columbus and his son Diego are also buried in the cathedral.

The Archbishop's Palace is located on the northeastern side of the cathedral.

Source: Wikipedia

[scotianostra]

On September 28th 1928 Alexander Fleming got back from his holidays and accidentally discovered penicillin.

Fleming had been experimenting with the influenza virus in the Laboratory of the Inoculation Department at St. Mary’s Hospital in London when he took weeks vacation, on return to work he got to work tidying up his lab, which he had left in a bit of a mess, he was often described as a careless lab technician.

An uncovered Petri dish sitting next to an open window became contaminated with mould spores. Fleming observed that the bacteria in proximity to the mould colonies were dying, as evidenced by the dissolving and clearing of the surrounding agar gel. He was able to isolate the mould and identified it as a member of the Penicillium genus. He found it to be effective against all Gram-positive pathogens, which are responsible for diseases such as scarlet fever, pneumonia, gonorrhoea, meningitis and diphtheria. He discerned that it was not the mould itself but some ‘juice’ it had produced that had killed the bacteria. He named the ‘mould juice’ penicillin. Later, he would say..

“When I woke up just after dawn on September 28, 1928, I certainly didn’t plan to revolutionise all medicine by discovering the world’s first antibiotic, or bacteria killer. But I suppose that was exactly what I did.”

Although Fleming published the discovery of penicillin in the British Journal of Experimental Pathology in 1929, the scientific community greeted his work with little initial enthusiasm. Additionally, Fleming found it difficult to isolate this precious ‘mould juice’ in large quantities. It was not until 1940, just as he was contemplating retirement, that two scientists, Howard Florey and Ernst Chain, became interested in penicillin. In time, they were able to mass-produce it for use during World War II.

Fleming received many awards for his achievements. In 1928, he became Professor of Bacteriology at St Mary’s. He was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1943 and elevated to the level of Emeritus Professor of Bacteriology at the University of London in 1948. A recipient of some thirty honorary degrees, in 1945, he won the most prestigious award, the Nobel Prize in Physiology/Medicine. He was made a Knight Bachelor by King George VI in 1944 and a Knight Grand Cross of the Order of Alfonso X the Wise in 1948. Time Magazine named Fleming one of the 100 most important people of the 20th century.

Fleming, a quiet unassuming modest man, went on to say…

“I did not invent penicillin. Nature did that. I only discovered it by accident.”

[beautiful-basque-country]

It seems from the interactions I see on social media there is some sort of animosity between Basques from Euskadi and Nafarroa, like distancing themselves from the ikurrina (which I get, they have their own flag, but I'm talking straight up hate). Which is undoudtedly a product of imperialism meant to further drive away any sense of solidarity for all of EH. On the other hand, I see many Basques from Nafarroa who exclusively use Basque (some from Lapurdi too) so maybe things are looking better..

Kaixo anon!

It'd be better to have some context for the situation you describe and that is sadly true. Let's keep in mind that Nafarroa it's divided in 3 different regions regarding Basque language.

Now let’s recap. Although it’s true that the southern side of Nafarroa was the part that suffered the Roman influence the most - it was an ideal location for Roman agriculture - and was very quickly romanized, Euskara didn’t disappear into thin air.

Back in the Middle Ages, Castilian king Alfonso X the Wise used Latin expression “lingua navarrorum” (the language of the Navarrese), and king Charles III of Navarre swore his coronation “in ydiomate navarre” (the language of Navarre). This language was clearly regarded as a different and opposed one to Castilian Romance or Latin, and scholars suspect it would have been probably Euskara.

These mentions happened after Muslim invasion, so we see that after centuries using Latin, Arab, and Romance in Southern Nafarroa, there still remained native languages which were used by many people; people enough for the kings to use it so they could be understood by their subjects, at least.

A bit further in time, in 1566, queen Jeanne III of Navarre requested to translate the New Testament to Euskara so her Basque-speaking subjects could understand it (Bibles and masses were solely in Latin, a language only known by priests and nobility by then). Why even bothering if in the Kingdom of Navarre Basque-speakers were a minority? We highly doubt that a queen was interested in bringing the Bible to a tiny part of the Navarrese population specifically…

However from the 16th century on, everything goes downhill: Castile assimilates the Kingdom of Navarre, all the high public servants would come from Castile or Aragon, and were unable and unwilling to speak Euskara. In 1795 the social elite (mayor, priests, etc) of Artaxona [also in the South, remember] went to court to demand that the town public notary learnt the Basque language since it was “the language most commonly used in town”. They lost the trial.

In the 19th century, the French invasion and the Carlist Wars hastened the regression of Euskara in southern Navarre, that turned almost 100% Spanish-speaking. Franco’s dictatorship just consolidated that situation.

So historically, Basque was spoken by most Navarreses - no matter from the north or the south -, it was just in the last 200 hundred years when it was lost in the southern part of the region.

Nafarroa becoming divided into zones [Basque-speaking, transition, and non-Basque-speaking] is said to be based on history but we all can see it’s bullshit.

That said, it's a bit easier to understand why some Navarreses have this animosity towards Basques - it's not only towards Basques, it's also towards Basque-speaking Navarreses. They like to be considered Navarrese and not Basques - which is super respectable - because the kingdom of Navarre was the one that included Basque people and not the other way around - which is also very true! But don't be fooled. They will swiftly drop historical accuracy to defend that Basque was never spoken in middle and southern Nafarroa and that Basque is being imposed as part of a Basque political agenda; that Basque people are trying to colonize them and make them lose their identity; and that they should resist at all costs by rejecting Basque as an imposed language. French and English - taught in every school - are not imposed and free to go on seemingly.

See how just 2 centuries of assimilation and banning of Basque have twisted their perception? Basque people are imposing our language on them... our language that for centuries was called... the language of the Navarrese??? It's insane.

So this is what dividing a region into here you can speak a language, here you can speak it but you'll be part of a tiny minority, and here you'll find every obstacle imaginable to speak / learn it does to people. Language zonification in Nafarroa is evil and a tool for assimilation that - as you have checked yourself - has worked wonders.

[nanshe-of-nina]

Favorite History Books || Four Queens: The Provençal Sisters Who Ruled Europe by Nancy Goldstone ★★★☆☆

Marguerite, Eleanor, Sanchia, and Beatrice, as daughters of the count and countess of Provence, were steeped in the culture of the troubadours. It played as important a role in their upbringing as their lineage—indeed, it was their lineage. Their father, Raymond Berenger V, came from a long line of poets. His grandfather, Alfonso II, king of Aragon, was a highly respected troubadour whose verses were praised by Peire Vidal, the greatest poet of his day. Raymond Berenger V inherited his grandfather’s talent and passion for literature, and embraced the troubadour culture. He wrote verses and his castle was always open to visiting poets and minstrels. His was a very literary court.

... Despite the troubadours’ influence, by all accounts, the sisters’ mother, Beatrice of Savoy, countess of Provence, was very happy with her husband. Beatrice had married Raymond Berenger V in 1219, when he was fourteen and she twelve. Raymond Berenger V was the first count of Provence to actually live in Provence in more than a century—all his predecessors had preferred to stay in Aragon. During the summer months, when the weather was fine, he and Beatrice traveled around the county, meeting the barons and accepting their homage. The count was young and strong and athletic: he climbed the long eastern side of the Alps and visited villages unknown to his ancestors. In the winter months, he and Beatrice held court at their castle in Aix-en-Provence, or sometimes went south to Brignoles, which he had given to Beatrice as a wedding present.

Beatrice gave birth to twin sons in 1220, but they did not survive. Marguerite was born in 1221, when Beatrice was just fifteen years old. Eleanor came in 1223, followed by Sanchia in 1228, and finally the baby, Beatrice—four girls in ten years. The children inherited their mother’s loveliness. The renowned thirteenth century English chronicler Matthew Paris, an eyewitness with no great love of foreigners, called Beatrice of Savoy “a woman of remarkable beauty.” But she was also intelligent and capable. One of ten children, eight of whom were boys, Beatrice had learned at an early age to value strength and power. From her father, Thomas, a bellicose, domineering man who was happiest when making war on his neighbors, she had inherited a family ethos of solidarity at all cost. Thomas had ruled his large, unwieldy brood unconditionally and with an iron will. From their first breaths, Beatrice and all of her siblings had been taught to think first of the family’s ambitions, and these were many.

… During this period, Marguerite and Eleanor, only two years apart, were each other’s constant companion (Sanchia and Beatrice were too young to be interesting as playmates). Marguerite’s temperament resembled her mother’s. She was patient, capable, intelligent, and responsible, with a rigid and highly developed sense of fairness. Eleanor was more mercurial. As is often the case with second children, she both admired and competed with her accomplished older sister. The differences in their personalities were complementary, and the bonds these two established while growing up in Provence would survive into adulthood. Marguerite and Eleanor were always much closer to each other than they were to either Sanchia or Beatrice.

... Raymond Berenger V and his family were very much a part of this culture of studied affluence. They entertained often and lavishly. “Count Raymond was a lord of gentle lineage…a wise and courteous lord was he, and of noble state and virtuous, and in his time did honorable deeds, and to this court came all gentle persons of Provence and of France and of Catalonia, by reason of his courtesy and noble estate,” wrote the medieval chronicler Giovanni Villani. Among his many visitors were his wife’s brothers. The count kept a large retinue and rewarded his entourage with gifts of money and clothes. His daughters were dressed in gowns of rich red cloth, the sleeves long and tightly laced to their arms. Over this they might wear a jacket of green silk. White gloves protected their hands from the sun. Even as children, they had their hair, which they wore down around their shoulders (only married women put up their hair), dressed in jeweled combs.

[felipeandletizia]

March 14, 2022: King Felipe inaugurated the exhibition “Alfonso X: el legado de un rey precursor” (Alfonso X: the legacy of a precursor king) at the Museum of Santa Cruz de Toledo, organized by Acción Cultural Española, the Ministry of Culture and Sports, the Toledo City Council , the Junta de Comunidades de Castilla-La Mancha and the Toledo Provincial Council, which carries out a complete journey through the life and legacy of the monarch, born in Toledo in 1221, whose 8th centenary was commemorated on November 23.

The exhibition, whose curator is Ricardo Izquierdo Benito, professor of Medieval History at the University of Castilla-La Mancha, is organized into five sections. The first of them “Alfonso, infante (1221-1252)”, collects the first decades of the future king, from his birth in Toledo until the death of his father, Fernando III, through his participation in the conquest of the kingdom of Murcia and an early interest in translations through texts such as the Lapidary.

“The ruling king (1252-1284): a reign of lights and shadows”, reviews the second half of his life from different perspectives, such as the symbolic representation of the monarch, the economy, legislative work and relations with the Church . “The Wise King”, the third of the five sections, reflects his interest in science, chess and devotion to the Virgin, without forgetting a context in which the first universities flourished and Gothic architecture renewed the semblance of cathedrals such as that of Toledo.

“The end of the reign” presents the convulsive relationship of the Wise King with the infant Don Sancho, who will ultimately be his successor. Finally, “The vision of the king from posterity” gathers both the vision of historians and that of the artists who contributed to shaping the collective imagination around the monarch.

Through almost 180 pieces from national and international institutions such as the National Library of Spain, the Prado Museum, National Heritage or the Alhambra, visitors can learn about the history and sociopolitical context in which this great character of history lived Spanish, as well as the great literary, scientific, historical and legal work that he sponsored, supervised and in which he often participated with his own writing and in collaboration with a group of Latin, Hebrew and Islamic intellectuals known as the School of Translators of Toledo.

“Alfonso X the Wise: the legacy of a precursor king” will remain installed in the Museum of Santa Cruz de Toledo until June 19, from Monday to Saturday, from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., and from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Sundays. The visit will be free and free. It will be possible to book guided tours online at www.exposicionalfonsox.com.

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

I was in a book club and we were goinf to read this book that detailed the way knowledge has traveled (Alexandria-Bagdad-Spain-Italy etc) and so we were talking about first impressions and how we thought knowledge had traveled taking into account the chapters and a dude straight up says that "How the fuck are those lazy Spaniards here and what has Toledo ever done to the world" and apart from how terribly xenophobic it sounded I couldnt stop thinking about how the world has done The School of Translators of Toledo so dirty so from Canada, I hope y'all Spanish people here know I appreciate the work your ancestors put into it.

Like we all talk about the Italian Renaissance and all but if it wasn't for the School I believe it would have been mediocre

cthank you so much for this ask anon!!! (also if you're the anon i think you are i missed you and i hope you're okay :) )

and yes, the school of translators was so cool!!! for anyone who's reading this and doesn't know, it was a cultural center (kinda like the library and museum of alexandria) set up in toledo by king of castille alfonso x the wise to translate ancient greek and latin manuscripts preserved thanks to the arab world into latin and spanish, and from there it spread through the rest of europe. see, toledo was situated in the border between al-andalus (cordoba caliphate) and the christian kingdoms, and in the city itself lived more or less in peace christians, arabs and jews. i visited toledo for nye's in 2019 and you can really feel the history of the city. the moorish and jewish quarters are preserved, and you can visit their mosque and synagogue, still standing today.

in a nutshell, if it weren't for this school (and of course the house of bagdad and other arab institutions prior to them), most, if not all of grecorroman knowledge would've been lost for europeans, so it was a pretty big thing :)

here are some pics of toledo and the moorish and jewish quarters!