#bxrnqueen

[threecardtrick]

The day was not even half done but he had left his office in search of her. He found her in her chamber, doing some needlework. He approached her, gently placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. The weather had been miserable for weeks; torrential rain and howling wind and cold temperatures and it had brought everyone’s mood down. This had been the first few days of sun in awhile and it seemed a shame to spend it inside. “Would you like to come out with me to the gardens? I think the flowers are starting to blossom.”

[sweetassswan]

♛ long may they reign ♛

@bxrnqueen​; my queen, my life

Many sunsets and sun rises had passed, England and Bulgaria rules side by side in a powerful marriage that set the grounds for the future king Eden of England and Bulgaria. The marriage merged together two armies creating a large and undefeated army consisting of two kingdoms bound by more than marriage alone.  The prince has grown into a very smart young man, ten summers old. She enjoyed watching him grow, the boy taking on qualities of both of his parents; the kindness towards the people that Mary herself held and the strength in battle that Emmett held.

The morning sun woke her, the warmth crossing the sheets as she managed to pull herself from bed and allow her ladies to help her dress, and prepare for the day. In the hallway she found Eden waiting for her with a smile and a message that he would be in the court yard with the other boys of the palace practicing his sword skills. Of course, she requested that Thomas stay near, the prince a target for many due to the power he held. Once she left him, she went in search of her king. The alliance and marriage between them had put both countries in a setting of high power and held the happiest of people.

Though it has been years, she was still adjusting to being called Queen by the people of Bulgaria, it was an adjustment that would come in time. She was happy and there was nothing that could change that. Reaching the throne room, a smile graced her features as those around her bowed in their respects, yet her sapphire hues remained with him. With ease she moved through the room, a steady presence that many would say mimicked that of her mother, a grace that she showed to the people of England and now Bulgaria.

Sitting in her own throne beside him, she offered him a smile. “Eden is in the courtyard with the others. He wants to joust.” She gave a soft chuckle, their son had grown so much, it amazed her how far he’s come since that night in Bulgaria. “Perhaps… you should train him. Teach him to joust and let him take part in the tournament coming this summer.”

English weather wasn’t suited for him. 

No. Emmett preferred the slight wind, the smell of countryside and the smell of the roses. He loved the Bulgarian weather and missed it dearly. Two weeks seemed like eternity for him and he was homesick. He wanted to take his horse and ride it until its legs felt weak. He wanted to dive in the salty sea and feel his whole body’s muscles burn with pleasant exhaustion.  

Sure, English had horses but they lack the seemingly endless field with crop. They had sea but it wasn’t warm enough.

But everything was worth it, since few months ago when he married Mary in front of the eyes of whole Europe. Much to the disappointment of everyone who was against a possible union between the two countries. Because between them they had the largest army, the vastest fields with crop and they hold the key path for trade - the Silk route was outside the Bulgarian border. And despite the lack of communication with the ottomans, Emmett managed to arrange silk actually going through Bulgaria and thus in England as well. The trade between the two kingdom had multiplied. 

And he also got to wake up to the gorgeous woman beside him. The same woman that took his heart all those years ago. In their first night together. 

The sound of the heavy wooden doors parting pulled him out of his thoughts. Blue eyes found the entrance easily and his hands gripped the handlers of the throne, knuckles turning white. Every time he saw her, she took his breath away. He never knew that was possible but it was his reality and he had to work with it everyday.

He stood up, out of respect and sat only when she did so. Tilting his head towards her, he didn’t shy away from looking directly at her. Those longing looks were not hidden anymore and he didn’t spare them. He wanted the whole world to know how they cherish each other, how much they love each other, how much together they are. It made him raise his chin up.

“I could do that once we finish this.” He waved his hands to the boyar that came to ask for trade with England.

Simon was short blond man and fine sword-maker. Emmett has given him a lot of orders for the army. His workmanship was among the finest in Bulgaria and being able to sell here it would be a huge step forward for him.

“Your Majesties.” The man bowed when he noticed his King looking at them. He took few steps forward, eye flickering between the two royals. 

“Simon, here...” Emmett turned to the woman beside him and smile graced his features. “...would like to offer you the finest Bulgarian swords.” He motioned to the man, allowing him to speak. 

“Yes, your Grace.” Simon nodded, eyes drifting to the Queen. “I have brought samples and it would be honor for me if you take a look at them.”

“Part of my army uses his swords.” The King adds, looking over to Mary. “I highly recommend him to you. The steel is strengthened and the inscriptions are beautiful.” 

[quiasocrates]

@bxrnqueen:

       How? How was she to say it? Knowing the fate of those before her, she has come this far and now the fear of what may happen in childbirth. A gentle sigh passes her lips, she tries to think of a way to say it, without truly saying it. “Of… what may happen when the child is born.” There of course would be no easy way to put it. Jane had become someone who had been fighting for her, had become important to her, and Mary did not want to lose that—not again. “Have you know fear, Your Majesty?”

       ❛  If it is G-d’s will then I have no fear.  My trust is in Him unwaveringly.  ❜  Jane watches as inner turmoil permeates the youthful face of her step-daughter.  The quiver in her brow was akin to her father the King’s when he glanced over his ledgers,  and the Queen smiled as she placed a hand over Mary’s gently.  ❛  But that would not stop me from asking you to pray for me,  Lady Mary.  Pray that my child is a son and that he is safe.  I fear everyone is certain that my life depends upon it.  Will you do that for me ?  ❜

[honourandobedience]

@bxrnqueen ;; continued from x

She remained silent as Mary asked the question, the cogs of her mind working on a solution to a problem that seemed to be solved already. There seemed no way out of death, and Jane swallowed the bitterness that threatened to rise from her throat at the thought of her own father causing her this pain.

If he conceded, she would not be in this position.

If she asked for mercy, the crown would pass to a Catholic. But then, at this moment, it seemed to be an option she would rather take. Jane was not going to let her life go--if it was God’s will for her to die, then she shall accept her fate. But if He had other plans for her, then she would take that chance.

“Clemency, cousin.” she began, her eyes meeting Mary’s. "Do not punish me for my father’s sins.”

[childishlioness-blog]

I love and have always loved EVERYTHING about your Myrcella. I still remember our threads from way back when and they were always a favorite. I can't pick one thing, so I pick EVERYTHING

You are absolutely the sweetest, thank you so much!! I remember those threads too, and I was so excited to see you on the dash when I came back! I followed as soon as I saw your blog again : ) 

Send me ONE thing you like about the way I portray my character!

[spcrtan]

BXRNQUEEN ▎ BLOODY IS OUR WRATH ● MENELAOS / MARY 

   Menelaos knew the dangers of this alliance  ;   the political issues it could cause, the NEW ENEMIES it would make, && the disastrous consequences it would invite if all this crumbled into naught. He knew the risks but decided to take them any way because in his eyes Sparta had not other choice. Their culture, language, every thing that made his people who they were was slowly being forgotten by the coming age. It was one thing to be a polis raised on the backs of soldiers, but Sparta would leave no monuments for HISTORY to remember it by --- the soil could not be preserved, && the wood would soon rot. Their names would be all that future generations would have to identify them ... that and their feats in history.  He had not yet spoken in person with the queen of England, the woman whose power and influence could stretch further than any SPARTAN SPEAR --- the very same woman who had brought him to England in the first place. While although Menelaos was a very proud man, set in his customary beliefs, he could not deny that if history was to remember his people then they would need the power of a universal. England was such a power.  Following a servant who’d been tasked with leading him to the queen, Menelaos could not help but admire the interior of the palace as they went. In his homeland they to had their palaces, but not even the temple at Delphi could compare to the grandeur of this. He recognised the marble of the floors, and the high raised pillars that mimicked the designs of those in neighbouring poleis. Admittedly, his sense of nationalism was spurred on by this latter detail. However, Menelaos could only admire the architecture for so long before it became apparent that he too was on display. English aristocrats all turned their gaze towards the king and his small garrison of bronze-clad men following in suit. They stared at the Spartans supposed BARBARITY ; their sun-kissed skin, and all too athletic forms which somehow made them lesser. Menelaos ignored them. He did not care for their criticisms, nor did he offer them the satisfaction of reacting as their stuck their noses in the air to represent their disgust. Pompous and arrogant fools ; give any such aristocrat a strong weapon && Menelaos would have their head before opportunity was given for them to take a swing ----------  After having walked for a few minutes the young servant in front of him finally stopped. He gestured towards two large doors of which Menelaos was instructed to go inside. Turning to his own men Menelaos ordered them to remain in the hall, not quite trusting the ENGLISH QUEEN to keep her word of absolute peace. These men were stationed there for his protection --- only one other was permitted by Menelaos to enter the room with him, an ephor whose duty it was to advise the king.  It was when the doors had opened that Menelaos first saw her ; hair painted in shadow --- eyes as blue as the Aegean. For a moment he said nothing, as instead he focused more on comparing the image his mind’s eye had come up with whilst they had corresponded through, letters to the very woman herself. Menelaos had expected a far different image ;  older and darker eyes, not the blue ones which appeared so soft from a far away glance. To him, Mary, QUEEN OF ENGLAND, was indeed beautiful ... but he had been taught to beware of beautiful women.

‘      To finally meet you in person is a true gift, lady.     ‘ Those were his first words to her, his accent thick and unapologetic. In truth Menelaos would have much preferred getting straight to the point, but understood that unlike Spartans, the English were far more into small talk before they ever begun speaking politics. ‘     Forgive me, though we have conversed many a time, I am still unfamiliar with the customary way in which your people would address another of their equal station.     ‘ especially when said equal was a woman.

[sardonicbeauty]

just a quickie little shoutout to @bxrnqueen // @iinspectorjefe aka: my treasure & bestie. seriously would not know how i could have survived without you in my life. your creativity and enthusiasm and love for your characters just puts me in an awe state of bliss whenever we plot things out or discuss the dynamics of our muses together. like, it never ceases to amaze me just how well we work together. javi & stella is still my favorite ship of all time and the stuff we’ve even come up with just lowkey between pam and mary has me so excited. i always love what we come up with, it’s always intense and full of so much development i seriously believe our shit needs to be a book or a show or a movie because wow! & not only that, but your friendship has meant so much to me. you are there for me always and i never feel like a bother which is so so important. i know i can come to you with anything and you will always be honest. i seriously did not expect to have such an amazing friendship come out of our initial conversation witih each other at first and i am so glad that we progressed as well as we have. you are an amazing human and mean so much to me i just wanna shout it out to the world. LOVE YA BOOBOO! i am always here for you as i know you are always mutually there for me. thank you for everything. literally. *MUAH*

[williamoforange]

[ starter for @bxrnqueen ]

There was a glimmer of hope in William’s future, for Queen Mary had agreed to his request to speak with him about a possible invasion of France. He’d hoped he had given her enough time to prepare for his visit, as he arrived only a few short days after he’d gotten word that she'd accepted.

His head held high as he entered the hall, his smile formed almost instantly when he saw Mary upon her throne. William halted in his tracks a distance away, bowing respectfully at the Queen in front of him. “I must first thank you for being so gracious as to allow me to discuss this alliance with you. I have not visited in quite some time and for that I hope you will forgive me,” William began with an eager but warm grin, hands laced together resting in front of him.

[threecardtrick]

bxrnqueen:

She’d been sitting up for what seemed like hours, the tension that had fallen over England shrouded the usually excited on goings of court. A single candle lit the corner of the room but his voice drew her attention from her own thoughts, a glance is given over her shoulder towards him as a gentle sigh falls from her lips. “Neither can I.” She replies softly. Edward had fallen ill and his fate rested in silent prayers and the good will of physicians trained to know how to fix all. The loss of Jane weighed heavy with everyone and the fear the only prince of England would be lost as well rested heavy with her, it would only cause further fear in the King. He had already forced her into a marriage she wasn’t expecting and yet, more good than bad had come of it.  “I do however, have an understanding of one thing.”

Rising from her place she sat on the edge of the bed beside him. “I believe that dwelling on what may or may not happen isn’t good for ether of us, or for Edward… or His Majesty. He’s reverted to behavior when we lost the queen.” Henry had begun to retreat into himself once more and she feared if anything were to happen to her young brother, it would only become worse, she wasn’t sure if he’d recover from another loss. “Thomas… if Edward does not pull through this, there may be no recovering the king from his own darkness. We can only hope that Edward is as strong as his mother had been… for the sake of England and for the sake of the King.”

Thomas was plagued with worry and fear of what might come if Edward died. Henry had plunged into deep grief when Jane died and suffice to say, it had been a difficult time. He had been doing his best to nearly run the country single-handedly. What might happen if his son was taken from him? If Henry saw his legacy as being taken from him? Thomas couldn’t pretend to think he could predict what might happen. And if his designated heir died, then... who would be next? It would most likely fall to Mary, as he would doubtfully wish to give Elizabeth precedence. And in that case... how would Henry feel about who his daughter was married to, now that it mattered? Would Henry wish to get rid of him and set up a more advantageous match for her? He can’t help but worry about his life. He had known since the beginning that this was a precarious position. That there might come a day when he would no longer be needed... His fingers were locked together, practically in prayer. He seldom prayed, and even rarer prayed for someone other than his wife and daughters and Wolsey, but in this case... He wanted, needed for the frail boy to live. “I don’t know what’s going to happen...” He whispered shakily, turning his head towards her. “I hate not knowing what’s going to happen.” He liked to have a plan. He liked to have a solution. But now... he had neither. “The king’s grief will be a hundredfold...” No doubt Henry shall think himself cursed. Cursed to have no son. “He might...” Would he rip them apart?

[motheriing]

"And *what* is the honest way?"

meme // accepting // @bxrnqueen

         Lisa found herself in a discomforting position as the woman well above her on the social ladder posed such a  BAITED  question. She could be flat out  HONEST  in her reply, but it could cost her much more than she could give for giving a simple and honest answer. Instead, she decided that  VAGUENESS  was the best policy in speaking with one of her betters.

❝ It’s not my place to  DICTATE  to you what your honest way should be, but perhaps...if I were in your shoes, I’d start with telling the  TRUTH.  I’ve found the truth takes a weight off a woman’s shoulders far faster than telling fib after fib. ❞

[sardonicbeauty]

Never in her entire life had Pamela stopped to smell the flowers. In truth, it was never an act in which she ever truly considered doing, for where was there real meaning behind the appreciation of nature save for its beauty and occasional presence? For whatever the reason, on this day, she felt the need to do so. Her life had been so hectic and full of turmoil, something as simple as smelling a flower seemed almost meaningless in comparison to the problematic situations nature itself couldn’t solve.

Even now, she couldn’t very well say that it soothed any of her senses for longer than a second but then again, some people sang sonnets of those few brief moments as if they had lasted a life time of blissful excursions. Funny how different people interpreted the little things. Perhaps it was because she was growing older that she saw things differently, but even still there was no getting past the hardened shell to which she had established long ago in her youth. For Pam, she may have smelled the flower, but its lack of a lasting scent was disappointing. It seemed natural for her to see the displeasure even in the simplest of things. Coming to a full stance, it was as if the action she had taken never happened. Instead, she continued onward with purse in hand as she wandered the streets.

She did this every so often, just to get herself out of the brothel as many encouraged her to do. But it wasn’t the pleasant walk they all said it would be. Even as a child, Pamela never cared much for sunshine or the life brought upon the day. Night was her gift. It’s what fueled her and kept her alive and awake. The sun only seemed to drain her, kept her tired; unmotivated. There was really nothing pleasant about it as far as she was concerned. Evening was livelier, full of life and longing. She preferred it.

As she walked, her eyes suddenly caught sight of something unfamiliar – or better yet, someone – a silhouette she had not recognized and in her line of work there was no being in this entire place of whom she did not know. Her brows furrowed then, seeing the figure of a woman with a decorative type cloak around her form. So much so that it framed her face as if she were in hiding from the rest of the world. It seemed only natural that Pam’s initial instincts were to continue forward, to see who this mysterious creature was and investigate their presence. This wasn’t exactly the type of place in which many brought themselves when in need of pleasantries; the streets were filthy and littered with whores – she should know – so why would a pretty cloak be bothered with the likes of such a place as this? It seemed unnatural. But then again, Pam was drawn to such things.

Picking one of the flowers – the only one still in full bloom – she hurried forward in order to catch up to the other woman, just enough to where she could speak and be heard. The flower would be dead come the following morning anyway, as if the day itself never mattered. ❝ You’re a long way from home, I can tell. ❞ She begins to say, now coming to walk alongside the woman, flower still in hand, idly twirled between her fingers. ❝ This isn’t exactly a tourist contraption. ❞

@bxrnqueen

[threecardtrick]

bxrnqueen:

The quill in her hand stops mid-sentence, she considers his words and finds truth in them. There has been plenty of occasions where there had been a path of wrong and right placed in front of her and she considered the pros and cons of each one. “I have the slightest of feelings that this is about the talks with Rome.” She states, as the quill is set in its ink allowing her to lean back in her chair. The privy was divided on the matter, half of the noblemen insisted she remain where her father began and she continue with the reformation, the other half insisted she continue to rectify her father’s mistakes with Rome and return the one true religion to England.

“And you, master secretary?”  A slight smirk touched the very corner of her lips. “Where do you stand on the matter? Would you rather we resume the reformation or return Catholicism to England?”

Despite his subtlety, Mary had untangled what his words meant, and it made him feel a little sheepish to have his bias laid out so plainly. It was well known to all at court what his particular religious views were. He’d been under suspicion since even the days that Thomas More had been alive. He had been a fierce proponent of the reformation and of course, he wished to see it continue. But he was well aware of what Mary’s particular views were... And he wouldn’t risk his position for his beliefs. But there was no pretending that he felt a different way than he did. “I believe Your Majesty is observant enough to know my particular stance on the matter...” He said, feeling a touch of tenseness. “I am merely informing you from my personal experience of working with the Vatican of how...” How does one say that he had seen blatant corruption? “That not all is as it seems.”

[richmonduke]

❛ I think perhaps now I’m speaking as a woman and not as a Queen. ❜

“I think it is necessary to have the time where you do not have to be a Queen. I know you are my Queen but you are my sister too and I will always be here to talk to without titles counting for anything.” He imagined that it would be almost impossible to act and speak as a ruler full time, without the chance to say what thoughts really ran through your own head without having to think about the good of England. He stood from his seat to join Mary, standing by her side in front of the window. It was easy to remember how they had been as children, whilst they were still raised together. She had been a princess but it hadn’t mattered, not really. All it meant was he had had to bow to her.

@bxrnqueen

[gehalten-blog]

✩ Grooming, brushing, or tending to their hair.

The lady’s gentle fingertips gathered the errant strands of escaped hair as gentle as the brush of a flower petal; the softness a juxtaposition in the combing which causes the King’s Beloved Sister’s stomach to jump in a flutter of nerves. 

Much has been mended and made anew between them since her days dealt as a reigning monarch and stepmother to the growing girl, the blossoming princess at her back. Even so, she would have her blessing and honest opinion of this act, before any outcome is decided upon. 

Touch tentative to the other’s wrist as the movement of her work brings her closer, her inquiring a low, tender thing, beset with caution, only for the other’s feelings. 

“Your father...s’the King...has made his vish known, ‘sthat I should take s’the Crown, once more. VWhat vould mine daughter...mine dear friend...s’think of this?”

[draconigena440-archive]

Continued from HERE:

“You are indeed your mother’s daughter…” Vladimir said with a thoughtful smile as he remembered his dearest friend. Dark brown eyes locked with Blue as the older man sat down next to his many-times great-granddaughter and offered her a hand. “Just as you are just as much your father’s daughter…” The Sarmatian/Celt knight let himself get lost in the past for the briefest of moments and then gave her a you know better than that look. “I am the last one who would ask you to live in fear and you know that. Just allow a grandfather a moment to be protective of one they helped bring into the world and raise…”

He gently kissed Mary on the temples and then her forehead according to the family custom of the Sarmatians and the Celts. It was something Vladimir and Artur always did with Henry’s children, “You made me and Artur take a vow before your coronation to always be your grandfather and uncle before anything else in private when needed.” He said before standing, going over to the table where he had set out the chest that contained the Crown Jewels of the Queen of England and then looking up when his Wallachian many-times great-grandson poked his head in.

“The council is gathering,” Vlad said in heavy accented English. “Uncle Artur is already in the chamber.”

Vladimir looked at Mary and smiled before gently picking up the crown, “You are just as much a dragon as you are a lion sweetheart and it is time to show that to those who doubt it. Are you ready for your first official council?”