prince alexander @alexandercfengland - Tumblr Blog

wildfac‌:

@alexandercfengland

Silvija had stopped a staff member to admire the basket filled with flowers that they carried. here in florence, she found it hard to find a place for her to escape to. it was a beautiful city life, but she was too far away from any forest for her own comfort. these flowers gave her some comfort, and the smell that it provided gave her a sense of nostalgia. “do you think you could tell me where you found these? i would like some at my palazzo.” she began, starting a conversation with the staff woman, smiling and chuckling with the woman. the city square was getting busy though, Silvija beckoning the woman to move with her so that they could get out of the way. she didn’t realize that the reason it got busy was because more royals were entering the city plaza. among the names, she heard the name alexander and it made her stop.

memories of this little boy she met long ago, along with the various letters the two exchanged before it abruptly stopped, left a permanent scar on her. oh, how she missed her little friend alexander. she smiled softly as she caught some of the eyes of the men going by, one in particular seeming to keep his gaze on her far more than any other. her eyebrows arched up at him, not recalling if she ever met the man. she gave him a slight wave before the woman beside her asked for her attention. Silvija returned to her conversation, making small regards seeing as the staff woman had to leave. information was exchanged, and Silvija looked back at the crowd. nobody. Silvija was slightly disappointed, but it was fine. It wasn’t like she knew the man. As she began to walk away, heading towards a stand where little trinkets were being sold, she hummed to herself ever so softly, getting lost in her thoughts. she wondered what her dear alex would appear now as a grown man, what had become of him since they last corresponded. she wondered if he had come to florence too much like herself, since she last recalled that he was technically the prince of england and england would be in florence. alexander, why did you stop writing?

it had been good weather to take a stroll, alexander had been in dire need of fresh air. he needed time to clear his mind and think of all the things that had recently occurred, he desired self reflection took the liberty to do so. it was in the city plaza where he found himself finding good conversation with his men, enjoying the rays of sunlight for the first time in ages.

and then something struck interest in the corner of his eye. he could recognize that face anywhere, her face in part. he had nearly forgotten about his rendez vous with the youngest croatian princess in his youth but they had been wonderful friends. in fact, they had enjoyed each other’s company so much that they had maintained a mutual correspondence in the passing years. though it was out of the blue when the letters had ceased to be returned and so alexander had presumed she no longer found him interesting. but now that he could see her once more in the flesh, he was delighted. princess silvija was good natured in her penmanship and he hoped that such a fondness was still carried forth in their long awaited reunion. though it seemed as if her memory didn’t amass much as she turned a blind eye from him. did he look that different? had she forgotten him? deciding to take the opportune moment to intervene, alexander found himself following after her in a hurry - quickly joining her at the trinket stall that had seemingly caught her fancy.

“if it isn’t one of my favorite princesses, I hope your memory has not disposed of me,” alexander was quick to complete formalities, eyes gazing at her once more. from the little girl she was, she had grown into a beauty, “it’s me, prince alexander, we wrote letters in our youth ...I hope I was memorable in some shape or form,” he grinned hoping that she would warm up to him.

#wildfac‌

ofitzroy‌:

richard tried his best to contain the laugh behind his lips before he opens his mouth to protest - laughter spilling from his tongue as he rocks his head backwards and allows himself to enjoy that slice of brotherly love they offered one another. “oh brother, you make me seem like the devil himself!” his cheeks rose to a healthy red, highlighting the fair complexion of the rest of him as his arm stays lulled around alexander’s broad and highly set shoulders. “”i hope they understand that they themselves made their mistakes when they were our ages… but i fret the titles they wear will allow them to seem angry, almost disappointed. at least i have proved my fertility! to have a son is to be rather prestigious, is it not?” brows wiggle in jest, a playful nature that came from their rooted upbringing as beloved sons of isabel neville. the two brothers stop as their voices drop from loud laughter to secret whispers, richard leaning in to hear his brother talk well and true - it is only the chaste talk that makes the bastard roll his eyes from one side to the other, his smile closed and neutral before he parts his lips to whisper back. “brother, of course, they are. that is why we rut instead of talking to them, no?” one brow raises, a fist lifting as he softly punches his brother’s arm. “so you’re after a wife? fuck! what madness have you come under, brother? has the title of prince really turned you mad?”

“you’re far too pretty to be the devil,” alexander jested back, thumb now resting on his chin, cocking a brow, “or perhaps...” he paused before laughing once more. alexander nearly snorted, a slight unease befell his shoulders at the thought. “aren’t we the consequences?” surely he adored his mother and his siblings yet ... growing up it had been more difficult than ever to be treated with respect. the fact that he had been the only lucky one who was legitimized only made the situation ever the more frustrating. for all the spiel their father preached of his love for their lady mother, he taken his leisure in assuring his sibling’s legitimacy. “I fear not for any sense of fertility, I think as sons of our father - we will be blessed graciously in that realm,” alexander remarked with a laugh. it was always uplifting to be with richard at times when he himself felt lost in the world. a slight pink hinted at his cheeks, his mind boggled at the facts that he was in need of a wife - but his options were less than fruitful. “it is having a title that makes me mad as thus,” alexander sighed, fingers brushing through his hair as he glanced at richard once more, “I want to love the woman I wed as foolish as that sounds - but I do not think I shall be permitted that sort of luxury. which I can not fathom why as my head does not intend to wear the crown now ... ” he hadn’t made his true ambitions known to anyone just yet, he was on the cusp of confessing the truth to his brother. but he knew that richard’s regards to his and harry’s strife was one met with carelessness. so he held his tongue.

#ofitzroy

joannaofportugal‌:

joanna’s strength and confidence that carried her over to alexander was rewarded with a kiss, a chaste kiss that was as sweet as it was passionate — a kiss like no other as joanna lay at his mercy, how his much larger hands held her, thoughts stirring in her mind as her knees buckle beneath the weight of her bones. “a-alexander,” her voice lost within wet flesh before her head lulls backwards, allowing him to speak — joanna finally silenced by such an action! it’s odd to see her so still, open-mouthed and shaken to the bones, but still, she hoped it didn’t scare the prince away. though her mind still felt shattered with rage towards his mother and the scheming forces that worked between them, everything seemed to fall to an other-worldly silence, leaving joanna against his taller frame as hands move to cling to the soft material of his doublet. fingernails even dare to dig into his back, holding onto the english prince in the hope that the wind or the stream from the arno river wouldn’t wash her away.

her heart beats against her chest, thumping viciously as she squeezes her eyes shut and refrains from shedding dramatic and girlish tears. “i fear words alone, even without your kisses, have me hooked —” she admits, a tear wavering on her voice before her head rests into his chest, a pose practised by millions of lovers before them — their figures settling as if their very visage was to be transferred to a canvas by the talented fingers of an old-age master. her cries are meek and quiet, soft and warm tears wetting her cheeks before she lulls backwards to look at him, to capture him with a yearning gaze. “what am i supposed to do now when my soul is so evidently yours?”

nothing else registered in alexander’s mind as he just took in the moment. he wasn’t thinking of his title, his birthright nor anything else - the choice had become his and his alone. was it selfish to act as thus? perhaps, but he was growing tired of paying for the sins of his forefathers. was he meant to live like an extension of england’s puppetry? what use was it to be a prince when he would remain second best in the eyes of the law. yet her company was different.with joanna, she seemed to only have eyes for him and him alone. and it was the best feeling he had in years.

“I do not know what to do myself anymore,” he confessed, voice softened. he brought her forehead to his, the pads of his thumbs caressing her cheeks as he kissed her again and again. when his lips finally parted from hers, his eyes bore into hers - a sorrow aching in his heart. he didn’t have an answer to give - nonetheless a plan either. they were surely damned weren’t they? “I shall give you mine in return but ... I-” a slight crack etched into his voice. “I do not know what shall become of either of us. perhaps my father and mother will have my head. mayhaps my existence will cease to live on this earth - I do not know joanna.” he sighed, arms wrapped around her tiny figure. he was tired of fighting what his heart desired.

“I do not have much to offer besides a pretty title that traps me like a prisoner,” he admitted. what he owned was kept by the reigns of his king father and queen mother. perhaps things would have been different if he were the one sitting adjacent to the crown. and yet even then, god had spited him with a brother who loathed his very being.

#joannaofportugal

point divider / november 19th - november 25th

GIF CHAT / PARA REPLIES (10 points) : 140

EDITS / GRAPHICS (10 points) : 0

MEME RESPONSES (5 points) : 0

SELF - PARAGRAPHS (20 points) :0

CHALLENGES (20 points) :0)

LAST POST LEFT OFF ON (this is for my personal tracking count reasons): XX

TOTAL : 1045 + 140 = 1185

#point count

hcrryofwales‌:

harry felt his fingertips curl into a fist— half - moons dug into the moon - white crater of his palm as alexander approached, the shrill quality of his voice tantamount to nails upon a chalkboard no matter their age. theirs was a relationship modeled after a game, an asinine one no doubt that chalked down to their mutual ability to wedge under the other’s skin. harry was the thorn in alexander’s side just as alexander was the thorn in his and yet the prince of wales had no stomach to spar with him tonight— save for, of course, this simple nudge: ❛ you are your mother’s son, fitzroy. stepping out of the shadows. ❜

aware of alexander’s gaze upon him, prickling across his alabaster skin, harry does not grant his half - brother the satisfaction of tilting his head and proving his words true. he flickers a brow instead, ❛ that would make them the exception. one thing kingship cannot buy is honesty— and here it comes from whence we least desire it. ❜ he folds his hands, now free from their focused clench, neatly behind his spine. ❛ speaking of portraiture, i was recently presented a miniature of a woman who wishes to wed you. tell me, how does one marry a woman who so obviously suffers from deafblindness? ❜ the jest is clear when harry’s lips form a smile and his throat sounds with laughter.

usually alexander would have found rebuttal to another one of harry’s prickling remarks. god, there must have been something in that ginger head of his that propagated his insufferable attitude. perhaps it was the portguese blood that coursed through his veins - they naturally had a flair for dramatics and such a trait hadn’t been spared from harry’s demeanor. however tonight he was tired and thus, refused to begin another battle of calculated remarks. instead, he ignored it - too tired to summon enough energy to keep his half brother entertained.

stubborn in nature, alexander had already presumed that harry would have refused to listen. perhaps someday he’d fall fate to his selective ignorance. “certainly not, honesty has no price - one earns it and respectively it has done wonders for some. spared hearts and resolved wars,” he muttered thinking of how secrets had built the regime of the english. surely harry could not deny it. alexander gazes once more at the image, grateful his mother’s visage had spared him of such horrors. he hardly bats an eye at harry’s snarky quip, “it’s simple brother, just ask your betrothed. I’m sure she shall provide you the answers you desire,” he returns the favor with a snicker.

#hcrryofwales

ofitzroy‌:

richard grins from ear to ear, infatuation and lust colouring his hues as he holds himself beside his taller, older brother. “actually we were writing years ago, a pen-pal situation organised by my mother and her own - diplomacy alexander, did you know it existed? i jest - but she is a beauty, a beauty i haven’t seen before. i dare you to name another beauty - but till i come to my own conclusions, her name will remain a well-kept secret,” a hand rests over his chest, fingers soft against the hard, cold material of leather. though alexander wanted to talk of the status he was yet to find richard brushed it away with a roll of his eyes and a lazy shrug of his shoulders; though he liked to tell the world he wanted to be a legitimate bastard, the truth was he didn’t know what he wanted. to hold such a title would be a means of holding power and trust, something richard wouldn’t be good at - for the only thing he held power over was his charm, and his trust only lay in the hands of a bathhouse keeper. hands dig deep into the full pockets of his tunic, watching ahead as a flurry of maids and waiting-men pass them in a means to reach the room where the brothers’ parents resided. “i won’t take her hand, i do not wish to be married to the daughter of an EARL… that, and she has this awful snore that’d bring me such havoc each night.. after a fuck i’d crawl out the window and run home before catching another lady who wore such wonderful colours.. say, alexander, i’m certain the child is mine but i doubt he’d look and act as myself, for i regret i won’t meet him till my return to the english shores,” his voice trails in lost thought, ideas gracing his mind as he drags his heels against uneven cobblestones. their brother, the true heir of england, was neither cared for nor disliked by richard who often kept drama at bay - and so he does not join in with merriment but rather turns to gaze his natural-brother, whom stood so tall against the italian walls. “tell me what i have missed on your part, brother.”

“mother had you writing to a girl?” he could hardly believe his ears, one brow raised in suspicion. “surely she must be very lovely and appealing to have kept your attention,” he mused with light humor. “I have enough beauties to name for each of my fingers,” alexander jested back - sure he had found plenty of women pretty to gaze. but these days his mind lurked on character and mutual understanding - it all seemed so impossibly difficult! alexander’s attention returned to his brother, noting the casual indifference at the mention of a title. he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head - accustomed to richards disinterest in political involvements. he certainly had no need in fulfilling titles but alexander would have preferred it if he did attempt for legitimacy, at least it would secure their lady mother more safety. “god richard you speak of her as if she were a cow. I pray for the woman you wed, lest you run off after one fuck and tire of her entirely,” he couldn’t help but laugh at the images his mind conjured. “I see ... well I hope father and mother prove to be lenient. surely mother has it in her mind to see you spawn children when you’ve secured a respectable marriage first and foremost.” there was a nonchalance in his tone considering the rhetoric had been drilled to him by isabel in the first place. when richard posed the question, alexander couldn’t help but scrunch his nose, running his fingers through his hair with a look of exhaustion. “past loves, present escapes - a whole lieu of troubles. let me tell you something richard,” alexander looked around him before whispering, “women are impossible. one could say my luck is rather foul. even with prince attached to my name, finding a suitable wife is like picking a gold pin in a haystack. absolutely maddening!”

#ofitzroy

joanofasturias‌:

even then, she had seen within him such potential to be a grand prince of the english peoples, the allotted moniker more than just a careful tease meant to endear the spirited boy into mannerly behaviour by her side. ( ❛ is that any way for a prince to act ? ❜ the upturned button of her nose had lifted in irritation at the fussing of his nursemaids as the boy tore through the gardens to seek safety away from their grooming hands and by the time she had finished with fixing the windswept tresses on his head, young jeanne de guise had made herself a constant shadow for the next few weeks, his wide palm tugging on her sleeves or grabbing at her hand. ) it had been simpler, then, to maintain close friendship but now she was torn between past and present, sharply reminded that it was by the generosity of king cristiano and queen crara that the deposed trastámaras still had sanctuary within portugal and all within europe knew of the strained ties between house bragança and the york queen of england. ❝ duty and responsibility are the bitter tonics that a prince must nurse daily if he hopes to achieve great things and i know that you will do so in the future. i would not mind hearing of your courtly roles, if you need an ear to speak to. ❞

though she wanted to offer him some neutrality in her company as well as seeking some release from the mundanity that had entered her life, joan knew it would be difficult to keep his secrets if he meant to work against the near - forgotten arrangement between england and the deposed aragon. she could only hope that his ambitions were not as large as her own and that her infanta would face no obstacle from alexander in ensnaring the prince of wales. ( for what would she do then ? fight him ? betray his trust ? she did not think she could, in the past but for the future of her child, what would she not do ? ) ❝ alexander … ❞ softly, his name is breathed through a heavy sigh, the worried lines of her face smoothing out slightly at his obvious concern and his generous reminder. bold, she reaches out to rest her small palm on the back of one of his hands, squeezing lightly to emphasize the gratitude that words could not express. ❝ my sweet boy, you cannot know the comfort you’ve brought to me by words alone. i promise, i will not let my guard down for anyone. poison … poison is one thing but a sharp blade is another beast entirely. i have kept caution with my food and drink since your mother’s misfortune but … i do not think we will be truly safe till florence is behind us. we are too exposed to threat, all of us. ❞ she had already taken to sleeping with a small knife again, the ease that she found in florence soon shattered by an attempt on queen isabel’s life but what else could she do to protect herself beyond speculating and mistrusting all that came near ? ❝ i was rather partial to charles or louis, for names … though i am certain my husband will want something entirely spanish so … alejandro ? ❞ though she had meant to tease, the name is not entirely unpleasant to ponder upon and she extends a small, genuine curl of the mouth towards the englishman, patting at his hand lightly before retreating her touch. ❝ i hope it is a boy. i cannot imagine the problems that would arise if i had a girl after all this time. ❞

these days it was hard for alexander not to see the role his existence was expected to serve without a tinge of bitterness. he had been foolish to think himself any more free than harry was - for he too was just another tool in the game of political alliances. his involvement with his latest fancy had sent his head spinning in directions that he had never desired to explore prior. despite his unhappiness, alexander had learned to prevail with a smile. such a task had been self trained since his boyhood, his charming grin coaxing appeasement to his mother whenever he caught a glimpse of tears threatening her beautiful face. and it seemed even now, he had the habit of giving up himself for her sake. yet he knew no other way of living.

seeing joan like this, radiant and seemingly well adjusted to her role brought a sliver of happiness to alexander. he had never been brave enough to summon the courage to confess his boyish feelings. instead, they had been quietly nurtured and even now, he wondered how he had managed to retain his sanity. he had been consumed with his own worries that he hadn’t taken part to looking at her until his name was uttered upon her tongue. how lovely it sounded when she called him. it killed him but he feigned normalcy - she was not his, he was only deluding himself for wishing for a fate other than this. his fingers tensed at her touch. “I know,” his voice soft. “I ... I worry for your health the most. mother said the womanly burdens of childbirth are difficult. I refuse to watch you be scrutinized once more,” he rambled away as he quickly shut his mouth wondering if he had spoken far too much for his own good. “it’s simply unkind and cruel.” attempting to reinforce their ‘platonic’ relationship. “some days I wonder if it’d be best to retire home but duties call, it’s tiresome jeanne,” he sighed. he felt himself sharply inhale at her suggestion. she had little idea of how painfully it struck at his heart, how he swallowed any hints of his feelings - repressing them with much agonized pain. “that would be a honor,” was all he managed to muster. “regardless, if you birth a daughter, she will surely inherit your good nature and beauty.”

#joanofasturias #thanks for internally killing alex joan <3

joannaofportugal‌:

her throat is coated in bile surged from her stomach, her skin crawling with anger for both herself and the carelessness of her affections. she holds her skirts up above her slips so she could walk quickly, so she could march herself from alexander’s side - to find her way back to her mother’s quarters to cry into motherly hair, to smell her perfume and to rifle through her precious stones in an effort to heal her heart. such a romance was not to be taken lightly, for would joanna really have turned her back on the family for the sake of him? for the opportunity to nurture romance? joanna muffles a groan, her lips pressed together in a tight line despite the need to cry out for her mother - an act that expressed more than words how immature she really was. she recoils at his speech, how he talks down to her like a child - if he wanted to drive her crazy, into a wild spiral of dust then he had succeeded. she rages like the portuguese bull she could be, nostrils flared before turning her back on the prince of england; she could do better, she tells herself - but later, when alone with her thoughts and letters she read over, it’d be harder to lie like that.

with a flurry of skirts she turned on her heel in the wet, damp mud - creating a hole which would stay for a number of days due to the rain - and goes towards him once more, her head held upwards before taunting him with a soft snort of frustration. “you dare speak to a princess as such?” she snaps, eyes narrowed as she pierces her gaze into his soul and back, her bones aching beneath her weight - begging her to give up, to give in - apologise and all would be well. but her pride stops her, her posture alight as she shakes her head to uncurl a mass of copper that cascades around her face, framing her pale complexion and freckled nose due to the amount of sunshine she had slept beneath. “you think you can announce such a thing? to take pride in a vain and taboo fantasy? i am blushing only due to your words, not due to the sentiment,” she turns her nose upwards, hands on her hips as she drops her skirts to hang round her feet; her entire frame still wet from her wade through the arno river. “alexander i do not lie and i did not lie in my letters nor my tongue from earlier… do you think i came here just to be upset?”

God, he couldn’t think straight. Hell, he couldn’t even think at all. Never had Alexander felt so messed up and confused, he had always strove to maintain amiable relationships and for the first time, he had truly shot himself in the foot. What did any of this mean? He knew he couldn’t console his parents for advice seeing how neither would approve of his rendez vous in the first place. He had met many women in his lifetime but certainly Joanna was the first one to have left him feeling unhinged, as if he were on the brink of insanity. His knuckles clenched into a fist as he tried to figure out what to do with himself.

Despite Joanna braving herself in front of him once more, he remained still, only staring at her as her words were starting to sound like the humdrum of a busy street. Surely Alexander was still upset but other emotions began to overwhelm him, and it was just simply easier to give in than to fight any ounce of logic. “For fucks sake,” he muttered under his breath. Swiftly, he brought his hands to cup her face once more before kissing her. There was a sweet fervor in each push and pull, a hunger that seemed to slowly quench the fire that had been ignited. When they finally broke for air, his hands still remained on her cheeks, “I am a fool but I like you god damn it Joanna.” Nothing else mattered, he wasn’t thinking of what he had said prior. He only knew of his feelings and he allowed them to take reign. With one arm, he brought her closer against his chest, his heart beating quicker than he had anticipated. He couldn’t summon the courage to look at her in the eyes but he mustered the spirit to speak once more, uttering words of sincerity, “I’m sorry.”

#joannaofportugal

ofhabsbvrgs‌:

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓’𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇. especially as a child, when she would pass hours sitting at her father’s feet & listen to what he had to say. most of his stories were concentrated at the holy roman empire, but he always told about the other countries too. “ england ? i have heard that is a very rainy country & the sun almost don’t shiny there. ” she smiled. everyone knew england for its climate, & even in her studies the tutors would say that. “ i have heard many things about other countries too. not good things, as for some time they were enemies. ” friederike had grown up with the fear of a war hatching at any time, so almost of what she had studied was the countries’ flaws. taking the prince’s arm, a small smile appearing in her lips. his animation was starting to spread to her. “ well, i do not have any other affairs to attend to right now. if i say that i like everything you listed, will you think i am jocking ? ”

She had assumed correctly of his country. Perhaps England’s weather wasn’t the most appealing, it had it’s own charm that Alexander believed to be flattering. “They say it does do wonders for the complexion. We boast of the fresh air, have you ever enjoyed the sound of rain when you sleep? It’s almost like a lullaby.” He had often found solace when the sky parted it’s tears, often finding moments of self reflection during those days. Florence was nothing in manner, brilliant in sunshine and light. It was certainly energizing. “We boast of theatre if your highness like’s entertainment that is,” he smiled, he laughed - not surprised in the slightest at her following remark. “Hardly, I’d say most of my sisters would share the same interests as yourself. I’d say the weather is most appealing for some fruit. Have you had any of the fresh oranges?”

#ofhabsbvrgs

isabelofyork‌:

ALEXANDER MAY HAVE UNDERSTOOD her concerns but since her conversation with edward, isabel had started to second guess every emotion to course through her veins. regardless on whether she was overreacting or not, even if isabel were to do some deep soul searching, she doubted her sentiments would change. what had changed was her reaction towards her son and her deep regret on how she had treated him, which shone through in the warmth that isabel now bestowed unto him. ❛ i think nothing of the sort, my love. ❜ the only wretched soul isabel saw was the girl that had tried to sink her claws into her son. ❛ i understand what it is you seek, truly i do, but women… girls especially, can be manipulative creatures, they have a tendency to mould themselves into what a man desires in a mate. ❜ it was unfair to assume that the princess was being untruthful in her actions, but she tried to convince her son a much anyway.

isabel listened as alex continued, her heart almost breaking for her eldest son and without a moments hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him again. ❛ oh my sweet boy, love is terrifying … and you must understand, what your father and i have is rare and we have been greatly fortunate, but it has never been easy. ❜ she stroked his hair as she spoke. ❛ and i am not saying that you cannot have what we have, but no two love story is the same and you must understand that it comes in all varieties. ❜ pulling back slightly, isabel brushed her knuckles over his cheek and smiled. ❛ the love you have for your child, to name but one. ❜ a sigh fell from her lips, but her gentle smile remained steadfast. ❛ do not rush into love with the wrong woman, but also do not assume that it is instant … sometimes love needs to be nurtured and give time to blossom. ❜

he sighed, nodding as he listened to the wisdom that his mother bestowed upon him. sometimes he dreamed of living a life where he could be ordinary, where his title and name did not determine the women he met. it was foolish of him to dream of such impossible romantics but he desired it ever so passionately. “how would I know a woman who loves me from a woman who does not?” the question murmured quietly on his tongue as he gazed down at his feet. “shall I be destined to the same fate of many? a marriage of politics mother? you needn’t avoid it if that is what you and father are considering.” surely it frightened him but perhaps he could trick himself into love.

the warmth of her embrace made him feel small again. he could smell the scent of flowers against her skin and the memories of her coddling. it relaxed him as he listened once more. “i’d like to chase that impossibility because you and father have proven it to be worthy of the greatest happiness.” alexander dearly wanted to be happy, he wanted his parents to be happy and his kingdom too. “I suppose.” he knew she had her point and the truth that he did not have it made it ever the more depressing. though he felt himself smile when she mentioned her adoration. “I do not think there has been anything greater than to treasure you mother.” he was his mother’s son, through and through. “you are right. it’s been so difficult. I’ve trapezed through florence and finding someone to fancy seems near impossible. the status, the reputation and the political benefits ... it’s all so tiresome. perhaps i shall remain unwed lest i give myself a headache.”

#isabelofyork

ofitzroy‌:

his tongue presses into his cheek as he holds in childish laughter at such talk. he loved his brother when he could talk to him as thus, when he could play and fool around as they once did when they were young. “i have no singular fancy when it comes to the commonfolk of florence but i must say, i have became fond of a pen-pal finally met and a daughter of someone rather grand,” richard boasts, romance lingering on his tongue as he plays the role of bard and thespian. his arm was still balanced lightly around his brother’s shoulders, walking beside him as the two sons of york parade around the halls of their paternal residence. “taken with her? why, you make me sound honourable,” richard teases, nose scrunching with a slither of distaste before he cps the back of his brother’s neck, squeezing with a firm grasp once he looks towards his eyes. “mary of somerset has had my son, alexander! you are an uncle, tell me you’re pleased? though i confess, she wants harry to be his godfather, but i assume it’s her father’s ambition rather than mary’s — for i fear she fancied you in turn, too.”

since they were children, alexander had been glad to turn richard into his constant playmate. but now that they were older, their paths had differed and it clearly appeared that his younger brother found solace in temptations. though alexander would not reprimand him for it - as long as he weren’t to folly. “oh?” alexander cocked his head, his mouth parting into an ‘o.’ “you aren’t one to write to anyone, tell me - how lovely is she? perhaps I should have a look myself,” alexander teased. while alexander had managed to control himself as of late, he was privy to sinning in the earlier days of his youth - indulging sensual pleasures with anyone beautiful. he walked with richard, his attention unfaltering. “as a royal, and one day prince - it’s only right to make you out as thus, unless you’d like to be known as a swine,” a slight smirk appearing on his features. alexander was certainly unprepared for the surprise, his eyes widening as he gazed as his younger brother. “you’ve sired a son? what have mother and father said?” it was shocking and yet the news somehow didn’t seem to be too odd. “I’d be pleased if you’d take her hand but knowing you, she was only another skirt chase wasn’t she?” he eyed his brother expectedly. “introduce me to your son one of these days, I shall like to see if he resembles you,” and he’d be sure to tease richard for it too. “what can I say? it’s hard not to be interested in the handsome plantagenet men, well - most. but harry as godfather? now that sounds awful, I pity your son.”

#ofitzroy #this got long but tis worth it

joannaofportugal‌:

“i am NOT mad!” she retorts, her voice loud enough for alexander to hear over the crash of waves and the cries of horses who were impatient to get a move on. how something so sweet could turn so sour, joanna had yet to understand. but what she knew for sure was that she desired a person who was not confined to their predicaments but to break through with strength and passion. for a man like he was not to take the english throne when someone with such power as her cousin was already in-line to take it. her arms fold against her chest, her skirts heavy from the water that pulls her down against turned, wet grass. “you are nothing more than a mouse if you cannot see past your hole! of course, i want romance, of course, i want dreams. i am a princess, and you are a prince - or so i thought you were, but now i thank thee because i can see who you truly are, i will send your letters back, have no fear, or the maids may get ahold of them,” she turns her nose up in the air, eyes closed to refrain from expressing a soft, doe-eyed expression that her girl-ish attitude wanted her to put on.

raised by the king and queen with a tender hand, joanna was spoilt and when she didn’t get what she wanted she only revolted with fury. the moment with alexander is no different, as she furiously kneads her heels into the grass to create muddy holes for her to perch in. “if you do not want passion in your life then what are you after? why play with my affections in such a cruel game?”

alexander shouldn’t have been bothered by the statements coming from her mouth but it did. he flinched at her rebuttal, his frustration only growing in tenfold. was she really that daft to think that the titles they carried meant so little? perhaps for her it was - he should’ve assumed life for the youngest princess of a pack came with little to no responsibilities. perhaps she would’ve held more decorum if she had been groomed as a queen rather than a brat. “I don’t need them back, you may toss them into the fire if that’s what you wish,” his tone sharp and scathing, his patience wearing thin. in fact he was thankful to see what the princess of portugal was truly made of - vapidness, dramatics and no care for the future.

“to love and be loved! to please my family, to protect my mother who nearly died within the last month!” the aggression in his voice thrummed like the baritone, sending birds flying from the trees. “passion is merely a temporary moment, it means nothing of permanence or forever - but i suppose you’d adore that. it’s fun for you isn’t it?” there was a coldness in his irises, a feeling that he detested but couldn’t suppress. his heart had been broken one too many and naturally he felt himself shutting down. he should’ve known the risks he had accepted would’ve reaped such irresponsible consequences. “I was sincere!” the syllables shot like bullets, piercing through the air as his composure tightened. “if I were not I would have ruined you and tossed you aside, thrown decorum out of the window and made off with your reputation. i would’ve never written a single letter to you,”

#joannaofportugal‌

hcrryofwales‌:

for years those around him had wondered what sort of king harry might be, it was not until very recently that he too began to question his future. he assumed he would be great —- the sort of ruler who, by both birthright and character, is commended to the forefront of history, standing proudly beside legends such as alexander the great and caesar. yet, as he glanced at the tapestry commissioned of the english royal family, the reality appeared less secure. his forefathers stared lifelessly back at them. with a wry shake of his head, he remembered that they had done the same even whilst alive.

upon hearing steps leading into the corridor, the young prince lifted his coppery head in acknowledgement, his non-dominant hand clutching a skin of wine. ❛ artists have little compassion for the august plantagenet nose —– this one, however, is heinous enough to warrant punishment, no? ❜

alexander had been wandering the halls, pacing back and forth in thought of his future and all the things that had recently occurred. florence should’ve been enjoyable, filled with amusements and indulgences. and yet the only thing that consumed him was his future. finding a match had proven to be disastrous at his own hand - a misfortune considering that there were plenty of royals to pursue. and yet he had failed to find anyone suitable to conjure a proper proposal. he needed a distraction, something that would take his mind off of his own madness. and it seemed as if the cosmic universe had decided to answer his wishes - though he certainly wasn’t the most pleased with the answer he received. however, for the first time in the long time, alexander was not irked at his half brother. the task simply required too much energy that he was unwilling to exert.

he glanced at the tapestry - squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light. whoever the artist was, they had made a wonderful display of the plantagenet lineage. most of the images were hardly what alexander would call appealing. “at least they’re being honest brother,” he snuck a glance at him, repressing the urge to laugh - it seemed as if the trademark royal nose hadn’t skipped harry. “if you tilt your head, it makes for a better angle,” alexander suggested, noting that the distortion was only one percent better than the original.

#hcrryofwales #its been 10 years and i need the brohood rivalry

ofitzroy‌:

he grinned and knocked his head against his brother, laughing once their heads were separated. he knew others longed to see the rivalry between brothers and enjoyed the see hatred that lay between harry and alexander, but richard didn’t care for the drama. all he cared about was living his life, and living his life to the fullest — even if it caused a few quirked and curious brows. “brother i have been sampling the great beauties of florence in my absence, for they boast many!” a sly smirk was planted on his expression before he realised him with a bounce, his hands soon clapped together as he matched his brother’s long strides. for what richard didn’t match in height, he had always tried to match in character. “actually… i have some news which, as PRINCE i suppose you should take heed to… do you remember mary? of somerset?”

being in the company of richard brought utmost joy to alexander’s day. while his relationship with harry was strained sour and publicly known as thus, he managed to main in good favor with the others. alexander couldn’t help but burst out into laughter, he should’ve known the moment he hadn’t kept an eye on richard he would’ve wandered off into the laps of lust. “of course you have! who have you fancied now?” an inquisitive brow was quirked upward. richard was certainly much more liberated to philander around - a luxury alexander knew he could not taste just yet. alexander was in good cheer as they strolled alongside each other, “mary ... mary of somerset - ah yes, what of mary? I remember you mentioned that you had been taken with her ... don’t tell me,” alexander paused, glancing at richard in amusement. “what have you done with the girl?”

#ofitzroy #i support healthy brother relationships lol

ofhabsbvrgs‌:

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐎. she have already met people she thought she would never see in her life, & the now legitimized prince of york was one of them. she was acquaintance of his younger brother towards letters & was rather curious to meet the older one. “ only in the german states, your highness. i must believe you, i have heard many things about other contries, especially from my mother, the empress. ” born an italian, apollonia always told her about the wonders of the places she had gone before marrying maximilian & then her father. “ i would be grateful, truly. i arrived a few days prior with my father & have not had the time to explore the city myself. ”

alexander only knew of her country through word of mouth and through the words on a text book. in his youth he was hardly interested in learning of politics or the affairs of other countries but now that he had settled into his manhood, he was grateful that he had half the mind to pay attention, no matter how minuscule in effort. “pray tell, what have you heard of other countries - or in particular, england?” he cocked his head, honey colored eyes locked onto her face. his face was quick to break into a smile, delighted to hear that she was willing to accompany him through florence. gallantly, he offered her his arm, “I see no reason to wait lest you have other affairs to attend to. Tell me your highness, what activities do you enjoy? Shopping? Eating? Scenery?” He was like a child, anticipating excitedly for her answer.

#ofhabsbvrgs‌#woooo alex is here to have some fun!!!

joannaofportugal‌:

stubborn and foolish, she sticks her lower lip out and bites her tongue to refrain from cursing the lord’s name or to speak foul of alexander’s mother. for she KNEW such a woman had poisoned his mind, after all, that would be something her family would whisper behind their hands. joanna though, is not foolish enough to make such a grave mistake, and buttons her lips neatly as her head falls - her chin tucked beneath her face as she directs her gaze instead to the rock of the boat, how it sways this way and that as he continues to talk of the safety of his family. he was safe! her cousin harry was too much of a weakened boy to do such harm to his brother, his sisters. and a council itself wouldn’t dare speak out against the queen when her brother was a keen player of chess? though these were only her thoughts, or more so, her guesses into the game the adults played behind joanna’s innocent back.

she slips herself from his grasp as he belittles their embrace or the words shared on scented paper. it seemed he had hoped to not hurt her but to tell he a truth that had been on the walls from the very start. joanna should’ve taken heed to her sister, liana — she was always so proper and intelligent, always one step ahead in terms of could-be’s and if’s. the sun began to shine against the arno river, letting nature sing it’s praises as the world starts to move around them. soon, it would not only be the two royals on a wooden boat on the arno but also traders, visitors and knights taking their steeds for exercise. their time was surely coming to a close, and with all his truth she was certain he didn’t want the world to see them together, within such close proximity. “you…” she begins, features wrinkled as fury adorns her normally angelic features. “you are not the man i thought you were but simply a boy who dare not break from his mother’s shadow!” her snap is real, and though in a mere few hours she would regret such words joanna’s hubris paths her way, standing with her back straight and her shoulders pushed back to seem taller when really she was as miniature as a princess could come.

“if you truly nurtured any feeling for me you wouldn’t have embraced me as a love would do! ah, but do not worry prince alexander, i will not make a FOOL of you for a moment longer! take me to the bank, now! or i will jump overboard!” she does not wait a moment longer, dramatics and showmanship at the forefront of her mind as she hitches her skirts up above her ankles and dares to jump into the shallow of the arno’s early lenghts. for the water only reached her thighs, though the weight of her skirts made it a chore to wade through, struggling to not get caught in the reeds that lined the surface of the italian river. there is a huff and a puff from her person, her back to the prince as she not-so-gracefully treds her way to the bank and up onto the grass - with her skirts wet and her feet black with mud, joanna releases the material she had been holding onto and stands before alexander with her hands firmly situated on her hips. in her head she seems independent and strong, stood aside from the prince as her mother would’ve done in her youth, or how her father would stand when on the edge of war. “do not follow me, for who knows will see us!“

It seemed as if she knew not how to listen but only react in the brashest of manners. And it was starting to infuriate Alexander’s usually placid nature. He was at a loss for things to do or words to say - unequipped in territory that didn’t respond to rationale. Her snippiness had offended him but he didn’t deny it, he was gladly bound to his mother, for he would not embrace his own life without her. While she attempted to puff out her chest in hopes of matching his caliber in height, he remained disoriented and conflicted in his own mind.

“You are MAD,” his eyes widening as he watched her lift the skirts of her dress to set foot into the river. Her dramatics knew no end and she was stubborn too. Alexander wasn’t quick enough to stop her but he decided to follow her even though she made it a point to derail him from doing so. His heart was thudding quickly, not from romantic sentiments but the growing irritation that threatened to blow over if pushed far enough. By the time she had reached the bank’s shore, her skirts were soiled with earthly grains. Fortunately Alexander had worn better boots for such outdoor activities and so the water did not affect him. He was fast this time, grabbing Joanna by the wrist to stop her in her tracks. “Why won’t you listen? Have you no care for a single word that comes out of my mouth?” The arches of his brows turned downward. “You want the chase don’t you? The romance and the dreams without one single ounce of reality! I’ve been foolish for considering something more,” he ended his words sharply, he unhanded her with slight force. “If you would like a boy to please your every whim then I am not your prince anymore.”

#joannaofportugal‌

joannaofportugal‌:

limbs plummet back into the wooden seat, her ears numb due to the spite that dripped off his tongue. she could barely believe that alexander, her english prince, could be so scheming! was joanna really so naive? of course, she was. she stands against him in a close embrace, arms pressed against his chest as her head tilts back to see him, to look into his eyes with a wet and almost shocked expression. if the boat turned over she wouldn’t have cared till she met the grass’ edge, she wouldn’t have cared because alexander had made a fool of her; of her ego, of her person. her lips fall open to expose neat rows of teeth, her tongue suddenly too big for her mouth as her fingers flex and curl into her palm. “i would run if i could-” she whispers, her head falling again as her forehead rests against the prince’s chest.

“alexander… i do not know if i would give up my title, but i know my parents love me for me and would allow me to pursue any relationship that i came to desire… maybe i shouldn’t doubt your affection for me, but i should doubt whoever has planted such questions in your head… and by how you talk, alexander, i must ask if it is your mother who has told you that we could never be, for you know she has no likeness for my family or my country,” fingers grip, curling into the tasselled sheet of his jerkin as her eyes widen in exaggerated sadness, her gaze wet and longing as she pulls him down towards her, the two of them still stood carefully to not rock the already feeble paddle boat. “why do we have to be so serious, my lord? i am no heir and you have my cousin to push responsibility onto, why can’t we enjoy ourselves here and now? for when we kissed i felt god looked upon us, i feel god with us in this very moment!”

it was not in alexander’s nature to be cruel. but he hadn’t intended to offend joanna like so. in retrospect he had believed himself to be doing the right thing, the better thing. but perhaps he was wrong, as it seemed to be the latest theme in most of his encounters. he was piecing together words in his head, attempting to word them correctly lest he reaffirm his incoherence. he holds her, feeling her body relax as he sought comfort in her presence. “please...” he sighed, removing one hand to run it through chestnut colored locks.

“your parents are gracious. and I adore mine as well...” his jaw tightened at the mention of his mother. she was the world to him and he certainly wouldn’t give it up - protecting her had been his mantra ever since he was a tot. “i have spoken to her and it is true,” he confessed, brows furrowed with much confusion and frustration, “she does not like portugal for it’s history and for how they’ve affected her - and for my mothers sake, i understand.” he would not stand for any blasphemy which truly made his relationship with joanna ever conflicting. she was still so young, so foolish - it made him wonder if he had been in over his head becoming involved with the princess. “my ambitions are great your highness and for the things I desire, I can not sit and let the days pass without considerable thought. I have a duty to follow and in order to keep my family intact, I must make sacrifices so they may live without worry.” he thought of his illegitimate brother and sisters - who knew what were to happen to them if he wasn’t able to secure their favor. while alexander wasn’t as close to his father as his mother, it was the king’s thriving existence that guarenteed his mother and his security. it was priority to keep it thus. “god will not solve all problems with sweet kisses,” he murmured softly.

“your highness may find happiness far greater in the arms of another - perhaps a better future apart from mine.” alexander wanted to believe that joanna would have far better offers on the table, where her background would not threaten to ensue another war for a kingdom like england. she would happier too wouldn’t she?

#joannaofportugal‌

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