archduke klaus of austria

xxxvi It is so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone

[archdxke-blog]

french-louis:

Louis found it difficult to believe that, after having his country attacked and taken by foreign invaders, that the Archduke could sincerely apologise for anything to the perpetrator. Though the very existence of such words were enough to satisfy the King. Such formalities were required, and Klaus’ wiling participation in them signified to Louis his desire to negotiate using more respect than he previously had used.

He simply bowed his head in appreciation of the Archduke’s apology, unsure of what else he could truly say about it. Klaus had confessed that his threats were insincere, but these were dangerous, precarious times and he felt that the Archduke such have understood that threats cannot be made idly nowadays. As for the question, he averted his gaze for a moment. He would have sighed, had it not been considered rude. Perhaps the man had an idea about Louis’ reasoning, perhaps he didn’t know at all. 

“I have contemplated this decision for many months and I do not believe the royals to have been in danger. If they had been, then it would have been from your own men, as the French soldiers were under strict orders. France is not seeking war, it only sought to warn you if you were serious about your threats. Hence it would not make sense for my men to harm Kings, Queens, Princes and Princesses when we do not even want war with you- we do not want war with other countries either. Had we attacked at any other time, you and your men would not have been as distracted as you were. As any protective leader would, you would have intercepted our forces and engaged in battle and history has shown that battles lead to wars whereas sieges often do not, or they conclude them. The death toll would have been considerably higher on both sides. Other countries would have to be involved, as a war would be looming if not present. I chose this time not to put the royals in danger, but ironically, I did it to protect them.”

At least, Klaus supposes, Louis has reason. It makes little sense to Klaus, but it exists in all of its senselessness regardless. He has never been terribly good at all of the politics; the negotiations, the formalities, the scraping and bowing. But as the Habsburg heir, it was to be expected; sometimes Klaus just thought wistfully of being a humble woodcutter out in the forests with his family.

He must remember who he is, though. His family is not just his children, his deceased wife. His family is his country, and he must protect its people. Louis would not be allowed to emerge victorious from this conversation, yet Austria had not the power to be itself the victor. He had come in search of a compromise, that was all.

“I see,” he says, thin lipped. He is not sure that he does see, but if Louis had planned this for so long then Klaus would not talk him over to a different viewpoint. “My only wish is that in all of these months, I had understood the severity of the situation. I have never desired war, but only fair reparations for past transgressions. While I still feel that Austria is owed its dues--” And more, Klaus thinks, for the events of the Assumption of Mary. He is in no place to ask such things, however, for is asking too much not the very reason for this meeting? “I humbly retract the demands I made in more recent months. My son deserves better than to inherit a country troubled by grievances over matters so petty as money. I give you my word that France shall receive no more threat from Austria,”

[archdxke-blog]

camillasc:

”Most evidently none”, she retorted with no small vexation. Inside Camilla there bubbled up once more the feeling of her weak position, the vague sense of shame that never left her side. He must grant me the Crown. He must grant it so I would not have to check my words with each nobleman I saunter across, each clotpoll daughter or lecherous count, so I may look at them and…- Her thoughts trailed off, stumped in the same vegetation of doubts and desires they always tread. Yes, assuredly, the Archduke of Austria could have no business with her. It stung the girl like a wasp, but it was a very reasonable wasp at that.

“It is customary to be demonstratively cordial in my country.” She raised her chin in calculated defiance after keening the words. This man had reason to be averse to the French, that much the mademoiselle knew, but she was a child of Paris and of court and would not take antipathy tastefully. Camilla’s hands drew together over her chest, as though attempting to build a shield of rings and ribbon cuffs.

Klaus does not like to consider himself a rude man, particularly when burdened with the knowledge, as he is, that he and his country are not particularly powerful. He has little space for rudeness, these days. Yet he is not weak, either, and will not have France walk upon him like this.

“Cordial?” He repeats, a hoarse laugh caught up in his throat. “You wish to discuss cordiality? The king of France saw fit to attack my guests in my home, and then his mistress approaches me with heavens knows what intention. You would do well to look into a mirror before lecturing others on their manners, mademoiselle,” Even as he speaks he hates himself, for he knows Camilla’s position as well as she does. She has no power. The march upon him could not have been influenced by her, and his outrage is misplaced. He will not stand down though, for the French are to him a monolith, one great mass devoted to antagonising him.

[archdxke-blog]

valdemarswdn:

“Vulgarity is the one word you can safely bestow upon the French. On lack of honour I would not vouch.” Valdemar suppressed a smile as he noticed the nuanced conflagrations between these Princes, who were so often, so strikingly, so pointedly alike. The similarities only diffused their reasons to band together. As if a fog of what you fail to discern in yourself engulfs the other, too. He clicked his lips at the archduke’s recriminatory dilemma.

“Ah, but there is the lynchpin. You cannot know; when handling men, allies and foes conjunct, you seldom have the luxury to rely on certainty. It is rather an agriculture of people, rather than crops: you rely on the ledgers of last year - that is, history - and the predictions of sense.”

He ambled forth, elbows propped behind him in a verdict of confidence. “Let Sweden aid you in this, as I will aid you put a halt to this siege. Let Sweden come betwixt as common ground until certainty seeks you again.”

Valdemar’s proposal is a bold one. His reputation is potent, yet not always heaped with goodness, and Klaus would not blindly agree to his hosting the negotiation. Certainly he likes Valdemar, and respects him greatly, but trust? Trust is not so easily had between rulers. Particularly when one of those rulers is known for his battle-lust.

Still, he does not think that Valdemar is a cruel man. He does not suspect him of plotting with the French, for if there was any great plot against Klaus’ life, it would have been ended tonight. There was no benefit to drawing out the encounter, if his own death was its goal. “And what is it that Austria shall offer to you in thanks for this gesture?” he asks, for certainly nobody does anything out of the goodness of their heart these days.

[archdxke-blog]

swedishmrose:

“We may use our own youth to guide us, but we mustn’t remember that our children are not merely younger versions of ourselves. I pray that you find a means of settling the divide between yourself and your son.” She couldn’t imagine Einar not having her there to mediate. Elias had no such benefit, and her heart ached for the poor prince, just as much as it ached for his father. She smiled softly at his compliment, it meant a great deal to her. “Thank you, your grace. I simply desire to be a good mother to my children. I fear they deserve far better, though I do the best that I can.” She confessed. 

His question was bold, but she didn’t truly see an issue answering it. “Customs in Sweden are quite different, your grace. My son has birth right to Drottningholm, it is not so strange for children to live apart from their parents in the castle that is their own. While he is always welcome in Tre Kronor, and he was born here, his home is truly Drottningholm. I believe that having a place of his own, that he is able to control, that allows him space, is suitable for him.” She knew that without having a place he could escape to, he’d likely fight far more frequently with Valdemar. It upset her, deeply. 

A hint of stress crossed her face at the thought. There was so much to do, entertaining the Austrian and French parties, keeping an eye on Valdemar, keeping Einar and Ingrid safe and out of harms way. She had hoped being home would be better, the stress of traveling had been long, but she couldn’t settle back into routine until after the negotiations. “Being away from him is quite difficult, but I have apartments in Drottningholm, bless his heart. Do you know the meaning of Drottningholm, your grace?” She smiled, pride for her son replacing the stress. 

He admires her willingness to be apart from her son; her reasons make sense and yet Klaus knows that he could never bear to see Elias live elsewhere. Every week apart he would worry and fret, and he wonders where Madeleine found such confidence in herself and her family. It isn’t that he does not trust Elias to be independent, but rather, he wishes to be present, always, in case he is needed.

Of course, the more Klaus tries to involve himself, the more he often ends up irritating his son. “You speak a great deal of sense,” he muses, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the stem of his goblet. “I admire your courage in accepting his absence. I do not know if I could bear my son’s absence, even in the knowledge that it is for his own good. Drottningholm... I am not familiar with the meaning, I am afraid.”

[archdxke-blog]

ncbleleader:

“do not mistake my intentions, mein freund.” alarik grins, an unusual sight, for klaus’ comment is very amusing to the prince. “though if you continue to deprave me of my sunlight, you could have a nasty battle on your hands.”

“Could I indeed?” he said, an amused smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Alarik’s reputation leaves much to be desired, but for his part Klaus has always greatly enjoyed  the young man’s biting sense of humour. “I suspect you could provide me with a good challenge; I have not wielded a sword in some time. Do you practice your swordsmanship?” -- There is something paternal in his question there, as of a father checking up on a son’s progress. Elias always hates his inquiries so, but Klaus cannot help but take an interest, even when it sounds as though he nags.

[archdxke-blog]

eliascfaustria:

Elias felt his chest tighten at his father’s words. He made Klaus proud. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to make Klaus proud, but his father had never been overly vocal about whether or not he approved. Elias hadn’t made that easier, with the constant tension between them. But he accepted it anyway. He’d done something right. He wasn’t completely hopeless. He managed part of a smile as he looked to his father, but it faded the moment he spoke of his mother. He swallowed down the lump that formed in his throat. He missed her so much, and France choosing to march on such an occasion had only served to wound him more. 

“She deserved better than France..” He clenched his jaw, his father likely shared his rage. He didn’t need to explain himself. He took a breath, willing himself to calm once more. “You never talk about her when you were both young. What was she like, before you loved her?” He asked, trying to picture his mother as someone his father didn’t care for. He couldn’t. No matter how angry Elias was toward his father, he never doubted that Klaus loved his mother. “How did you come to love her?” He asked, uncertain if it was just fatigue or something else that had him letting his father in, if only for a moment. 

There is a tenderness to their words that is not often found between them. Perhaps it was the fear they had endured tonight, reminding them to treasure what they had; Klaus is often too hard on Elias, and Elias is often temperamental with Klaus. Tonight, it does not matter, because they are father and son.

He has talked little of his wife since her passing. It is entirely too painful to allow that wound to be reopened, time and time again. But Elias deserves answers to his questions, and Klaus answers as best he can, through a voice drawn with a mourning that has not passed. “She was just the same when I loved her as when I did not; it was I who changed. A bull-headed and ignorant boy, I hated her as I hated my duty. Much like you, I was the only son and wore a heavy burden; to me, marriage to a stranger was one more example of my parents caring more for their country than me. I rode constantly out to war, would not speak with her... I paid her no more mind than you would a flower crushed beneath your boot. One day, I returned from a month away from court, and she addressed me. She told me I had disrespected her, and that our marriage was an insult to her, who desired only to better Austria. She was right, of course, and I forced myself to make more of an effort with her. We sat down to meals together, and took strolls, and I consulted with her on important matters. I think anyone that knew your mother and saw her goodness and cleverness would fall in love with her. I could not help it; she captured my heart once I allowed her close to me, and has it still.”

[dmitriromanovs]

“would you mind moving? i am trying to get some sunlight.” alarik’s gaze narrowed on the figure who stood in the way of the rays that warmed his cheeks only minutes ago. the prince’s raven-colored locks made his skin look increasingly pale and rumors of him being sickly often spread. in an attempt to quell the whispers, alarik thought it best he spend more time ( though he already spent a great deal ) in the outdoors.

[archdxke-blog]

“May the Lord help me, for not only do my enemies march against me, it seems that my friends also are determined to have battle,” Klaus says, half-stifling a smile. Alarik is not always the easiest fellow to get along with, but he has long found the young man’s caustic nature amusing. Not many are so candid with their emotions.

[archdxke-blog]

swedishmrose:

The archduke managed to catch Madeleine off guard. Of all the conversations she could have foreseen taking place, a discussion of rearing children was not one she had considered. Yet there was a sense of pride that swelled in Madeleine’s chest, for if he was asking her such things, not only did he trust her, but he trusted her ability to parent. Still, his question brought with it a sense of dread. Her husband and her precious little lion had been at odds with one another for years. Her son lived away from Tre Kronor, in his own right to Drottningholm. The space was something Madeleine believed prevented Einar and Valdemar from tearing one another apart. It was a distance that brought great pain to the Swedish matriarch, for she desired very much that her husband and son would be a united force, not each upon opposing sides of a coin. 

“Your grace, if I may be so forward, I do not believe any child desires a marriage negotiated for them upon parchment. Our children are not pawns, of course they are not. And we do not, as parents, desire to move them upon a chessboard as if they are. But we must.” She sounded like her husband, she realized, and the relationship between Klaus and Elias seemed to mirror Valdemar and Einar’s very well. Resentment. Youthful anger. “There is an expected amount of resentment in such matters. Your son is young, he likely feels overwhelmed by the pressures around him. For surely he knows his duty, you have made clear to him what he must do. But what he must do does not align with what he desires to do. It is the great fault of man that our duty and our desires so rarely align.” She paused a moment, her eyes soft, filled with sympathy. She could not picture Valdemar handling Einar alone. Without her there. Without her gentle understanding, her patience, and unconditional love. 

“Let not your heart be sorrowful, your grace. You are not inadequate as a parent for the resentment your little prince bears toward you. It is a consequence of blissful youth. It is not truly you he is fighting against. Surely not. Perhaps it is a fear of letting go of his youth. Or perhaps it is a resentment at the principle of marrying for the good of a country and not for his own good. Or it is anger and resentment toward himself for feeling weighed down by the pressure circumstance places upon his shoulders. But you? You are his father. You gave breath to him. Life. He finds himself enraged with you because you are the cornerstone at which he stands.” 

Madeleine took a breath, realizing that she had endured this conversation in her head time and time again. Her own son fought against the path that had been lain before him. “You are grown, steady and mature, you wait out the storm because you know it will cease. He has not yet come to the realization that our duty is not our unbecoming. That though it may not be the fate and path we may wish to walk, it does not require that we find no happiness. In his youthful mind, the storm seems endless. And with all that has occurred in his life as of late, the storm seems to only worsen at his attempts to calm it. He may feel you are asking him to do such, to calm the storm, when in reality you are asking him to build up his fortress to withstand it. You are asking him to be the man who builds his house out of stones not glass. Yet he believes you are asking him to outstretch his hands and do what none can do. It is a matter of youthful ignorance, of misunderstanding.” 

“Your late wife, God rest her soul, may have been more suited to showing him that you ask not the impossible, but that he learn the ways in which we hold back the waters that threaten to drown us. That does not mean you are incapable of showing him that. Perhaps you show him by encouraging him to make choices on his own. His entire life due to his youth has likely been one of quiet obedience, but the luxury of being a man is that you master the life you are given within the confines fate saw fit to place you. Show him, your grace. Show him that he may not choose the ship on which he must sail nor the waters he must navigate, but that he may choose the ropes to pull, that he may choose to look at the stars not to guide him but to delight him. That does not mean he will not protest in his cabin for more time to come. But the greatness of you is that you continue to knock. You continue to ask him if he desires to come up for air. You must harbor a great deal of patience, your grace. It is not easy.”

She looked to her fingers, thinking of her own son, of how many times she had gently brushed his hair and promised him she’d do anything to find his happiness. There was a gentleness to women that could not always be found in men. Yet Klaus seemed capable of such steadiness, of such patience. “I wish that I could give you a recipe for stopping the resentment, but I feel that it is a matter of patience. What will ease your heart is accepting that it is not you he resents. And once you do, you may find it easier to guide him from his anger, to help him to channel it, to come to terms with what exactly he is angry at.” She hesitated a moment, not wishing to insult him. “You may also find that he becomes enraged with you because you are a constant. Perhaps you should give him space, so that he may evaluate what surrounds him, what he has, what the world is asking him to do, and realize that not only could he be far less fortunate, but no matter where life sees fit to place us, we all have trials and tribulations. We all have duties and responsibilities we’d rather not have. He must experience the world as it is, not as he sees it.”

“And, one further thought, your grace. Perhaps you may speak to validate his feelings. I know that emotions and feelings can be a difficult thing to navigate, women are far more fortunate in being permitted to truly experience our feelings. But if you can validate his feelings and teach him to act in spite of them, to wear his pain and his anger like armor and not let it weigh him down, then perhaps he will learn to control his emotions rather than let them control him. That combined with the reassurance that he does not walk alone, may serve to benefit your relationship. He has been destined to live for more than himself. Show him. Show him the country for which he is making these sacrifices. Let him see the people he serves. Let him feel as he feels, but walk with him each step, even if it is from a distance. Then when your prodigal son returns to you, love him unconditionally. Love him even when he chooses to be selfish. Even when he chooses to rage against you because you know it is himself that he rages against. Remember the wise words of Solomon: a gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. Meet his anger with gentleness and truth. It will quell, the flames of his rage will cool.” 

He is quiet for a time, drinking in Madeleine’s answer. He is impressed by the thoroughness and the understanding that she shows, and he knows now that he was right to come to her with his concerns. She is so assured and steady that he cannot help but believe her words with all of his heart. Einar is very blessed, he thinks, to have a mother of such wisdom.

“I have never paused to consider that it is himself that he rages against. I was not so different from him in my younger years, and I thought perhaps I would understand him the better for it. But our reasons for behaving so must be quite different. “He sighs, brows drawn up together. His children are the light of his life; he had not anticipated that this would also make them the greatest worry. “You are a good woman, and Einar is fortunate to have you. He will grow into a fine man, soon. Do not answer me if I am too bold, but I am aware that he stays often at a different home. Do you find that this helps? I do not know if I could bear to be parted from Elias or Amelie, but if it would help them then I would find the strength.”

It is something that he must accept, sooner or later. They both will be grown soon, and will move away from him, and he will be alone then. Perhaps it is the fear of that that can cause him to be so overbearing a father.

[archdxke-blog]

swedishmrose:

Madeleine smiled warmly upon his comments of her ability to host. Certainly Valdemar had placed high expectations on his wife, promising that court would commence to be a place of excitement and warmth whilst the patriarch of each family discussed peace somewhere even Madeleine did not know. Away from Tre Kronor, though she doubted it very far. She was the sleight of hand, entertain the guests so that they may not notice the negotiations occurring under their nose. It was something she felt capable of handling. She would ease her mind by focusing on the happiness of her guests. 

The Queen did not expect Klaus to request her company, but she would not deny him. “Of course, it would be my pleasure to join you, your grace.” She murmured softly, moving so that she might sit across from him. Before she could even wave her hand, a servant moved to fill first their guests cup, and then the Queen’s. It was what Madeleine would have wanted. She smiled, “Thank you, you may go.” She instructed, nodding for the servants to leave them. The door closed gently behind as they took their leave of the room. 

“Please, feel welcome to speak freely. You must be very tired and it shall not do to keep up at the formality of court. I know it to be very exhausting, and you surely have far larger thoughts in your mind than formalities with me.” She offered, wishing him to feel comfortable simply talking. She moved her hand, lifting the cup of wine to her lips as she waited for him to speak, offering him the chance to do so first. If he did not, she would walk them through polite conversation. 

He hopes that he is not intruding-- Madeleine seems, beneath all her grace, to move beneath a great weight. But then, perhaps he only thinks that because he has been buried beneath such pain for so long that he looks for it in others wherever he goes. But Klaus does not know who to talk to these days, for he will not upset his children with such things. He has no siblings to speak with. Any friends he has are allies first, and he cannot allow them to know his weaknessness.

Something about Madeleine invites trust, though, and he feels as though he can speak freely. He feels that she truly means it when she says he may speak of more than formalities with her.

“I am grateful for your words, your highness. This may seem like a strange topic, given the gravity of my visit, so I beg your indulgence. Your son, Einar-- is he resentful of his betrothal? I ask because he is of an age with my own son, who seems to resent me for everything. I mean only to encourage and guide him, but I seem only to enrage him. I have not the guiding hand of a wife any longer, and find myself an inadequate parent without a partner.”

He has not voiced this concern to anyone else. His advisors are there for matters of politics, not these concerns. Worry for one’s child is a topic to discuss with your wife, but he hasn’t the luxury.

[archdxke-blog]

french-louis:

The corridors seemed far longer than they had been earlier in their day, where Louis had strolled constantly as he pondered his next move. They eventually brought him to his destination and for a moment he stared blankly at the large wooden door. Perhaps from afar it would have seemed that Louis was admiring the great craftsmanship, though in reality, he was thinking and re-thinking until he realised there wasn’t anything else to plan. Louis wouldn’t truly know the situation until he wandered into that room to meet the Archduke. He had already made all the necessary preparations-he now simply had to hear, or see, Klaus’ response.

Louis had achieved all his goals- including the attack and securing foreign armies to support him if necessary.. He had seriously interpreted the Austrians’ threats after months of negotiations and had decided that he would not risk seeing a drop of French blood spilled due to one man’s greed. Valdemar had been right in reminding Louis of the dire financial state of Austria, but after a while of contemplation, he had come to conclude that this was not his concern when it risked the own security of his nation. Reasonable reparations and perhaps even a friendly trade alliance could have provided Austria with the financial help they desperately needed. But instead, they all found themselves in this situation.

Upon entering the chamber, Louis’ gaze fell upon an all too familiar sight. How many Kings and Queens had fallen due to a sip of seemingly innocent wine? Though poison was a weakling’s weapon and whilst the King of France thought many things of Klaus, he did not seriously consider that the Archduke would stoop to such cowardice. 

“Of course,” he said confidently, a soft smile emerging on his lips which intended to be welcoming. He made his way to the table and set his sealed documents upon it. “Wine is a good start to any negotiation-” He lifted his gaze from the table to the Archduke. “-as is an apology.” He bowed his head. “I am sorry for the harm my troops have caused to your homeland. I mourn the loss of your people and had I seen a safer alternative for France, I would have taken it. War is always a last resort.”

The apology is insincere, Klaus is sure. He does not trust Louis, and does not believe he feels any sorrow, but for perhaps that he had upset a few uninvolved dignitaries. He is disappointed in himself, for the anger he allows the French king to kindle within his heart.

He is angry at the spring in his step as he enters the room, as though he was entitled to such confidence. He is angry at the luxury of Louis’ clothing, as though the man was boasting of his country’s greater wealth. He is angry at the ease of his speech, as though this is an everyday occurrence for him. Louis smiles, and Klaus returns it but he knows his own is a pale, weak imitation. He is not a natural politician like Louis; it is why he plans to be as straightforward and honest as possible. He is a poor liar, and would not fare well with any great scheming.

He cannot, however, be fully honest, or he would start a war. If he spoke his heart he would say Then why did you commit an act of war? Instead, he says this: “And I believe I owe you an apology in turn, for being so heavy handed in my letters. They were written in haste and I fear I communicated messages that I had not intended. I asked for more than my due. I understand how it came to be that you found it necessary to march upon me. What I am less clear on, is why you did so when I hosted so many guests-- the representatives of so many countries. Did you not care for the danger you put them in?”

[archdxke-blog]

eliascfaustria:

Elias felt as though he were six years old again, standing on his toes to see the map spread out across the table. His little fingers reached eagerly for pieces on the board, as if it were a game until they were swatted away and he was told that the little pieces were not tokens but representative of real people. That every time he moved a piece across a board, should an order follow it, he was gambling with the lives of people who had homes, and families, and lives. It was something Elias had taken seriously, even if he was still young and inexperienced. He did not wish to see lives lost. He did not wish to make the wrong move. The fear of doing so plagued his mind, but up until very recently each movement across the board was hypothetical. Practice. An opportunity for him to make mistakes before it truly counted. 

Have you any suggestions? He’d been dreading the question. It wasn’t a new question. The only difference was that his answer counted for something genuine this time. Something real. With consequences that were far worse than a disappointed sigh or a nod of approval. He softened as he considered their options. They were limited, too limited, and it made his apprehension grow. He willed the tension to leave his body, but it wouldn’t. He stood, pacing the room. “You ask for what is owed, a reasonable price. No matter how heavy handed you were before, we are still owed. Do not seek to fill our coffers with French coin.” He began, his mind working through considerations quickly. “But do not allow the Frenchman to take advantage. He is a coward, using the cover of our guests to try to force your hand.” 

Elias took a breath. Not eager to share the words that he knew he ought to. “And while you ride for negotiations, I will accompany Amelie to Florence. She will be safeguarded there, with the Medici. I will continue to Naples.” He fought the desire to stop there, to turn back. He had no want to ride for Naples, to meet his betrothed, to speak to the formidable king. “I will speak to the King’s hatred for the French. How many years have they feuded over land claims? France seeks to pull Naples from under their feet, I might use this to our cause. I will reassure his majesty of the ability of Austria to care for his daughter, and negotiate..” He hesitated once more. “A wedding date. It has been years since the betrothal was negotiated and I am of age to wed. Naples will not side with the French, you know this as well as Louis does. If it can be managed, why not call on the parchment you both signed? Her dowry could be of some use. Then, should Louis desire war, we can call upon Naples. We do not stand alone. I do not desire war, and I beseech you to do all that you can to avoid it, but we are not alone, father.” He was trying to be mature, to prove he wasn’t a little boy anymore. What better way to show that than to cease protesting his impending union? 

His son spoke with the strength of a man twice his age; and Klaus’ heart is both swelling with pride, and breaking in half. Elias is only eighteen, and should be allowed to have flirtations with whomever he pleases, and ponder only what he might enjoy for his supper that night. But this is not the life he has been given; it was not Klaus’ life either.

It is in a father’s nature to protect his children from everything. He cannot save him from everything, though, and can choose only to be joyous when his son is strong enough to bear his burdens.

“My son,” he says, and his voice is thick with emotion. “You make me proud. It is a wise idea to go to Naples if you are willing. I know... I know that this marriage is not what you desire. When I married your mother, it was not what I desired. It was political, and I did not care for her. But in time we fell in love with one another, and it is my hope that you find love in your marriage also. I have met Simonetta, and I believe her to be a fine woman. You are a fine man, Elias.”

He does not say it enough. So anxious is Klaus to heal his withering empire and improve his shrinking family that he forgets, sometimes, to tell his children how well they are doing. If they had more siblings it may be easier, but he has only Elias and Amelie, and both of their marriages must benefit them all, however painful it is. Klaus does not want to marry his children away as pawns, but can find no way around it. They do what they can, and hope to find joy in it somewhere along the path.

[swedishmrose-blog]

@archdxke

How did this happen? That was Madeleine’s first thought. She didn’t understand why her husband had been roped into playing the neutral third party, affording the Austrian Archduke and the King of France a ground on which they could negotiate. Her husband so rarely chose to be neutral, and she knew he only did it when it benefited him. But she didn’t know what that benefit was. It was an unsteady place to find herself in, one she did not favor. It had caused her a great deal of stress, seeing both the Fleur-de-Lis and the Habsburg crest amongst her court. She prayed her husband knew what he was doing, believed he did in some ways, but she longed to know what he was thinking. 

She sat, her knees tucked gently into her chest as she watched out the window. Who designated her husband to be the peacekeeper? Yet part of her knew that her husband had somehow managed to take that role for himself. People did not designate him anything. He decided his own fate, he built his own path. She sighed, laying her head gently against the pillows, the blanket of furs wrapped around her despite the summer breeze that filled the room. It was softness, closeness she desired, not warmth. 

A gentle knock at her door had the Queen sitting up once more. She smoothed her hands over her gown, “Enter.” She called gently, her eyes meeting familiar eyes. “Forgive my intrusion, majesty.” The man bowed low to her. “I was informed that the Archduke has arrived.” He explained. Negotiations would come soon, of that Madeleine was certain, but greeting guests in her home was her obligation. She nodded, “Very well. A moment.” She instructed before rising. 

She examined herself in a looking glass, carefully tucking a loose curl behind her ear. She felt for the Archduke, truly she did. She could do naught to prevent her heart from aching. Perhaps that was why her husband had seen fit to fill her ears with silence, rather than explanations. Sighing, she set the looking glass down and exited the room, walking through the familiar hallways to a sitting room where the Archduke had been permitted to rest. 

“I beg you, forgive my intrusion, your grace.” Madeleine began, her words soft though heavily accented. “If I may have just one moment of your time to extend a welcome to my home it would please me greatly. I desire you to know that you and your men shall take wine and bread here with no ill consequences.” Not on the part of the Swede’s. And her husband would not break century old traditions. She was certain of that fact, at least. What transpired between Klaus and Louis later, however, was not her place to determine. Apparently, it was Valdemar’s. 

[archdxke-blog]

There were many, weary worries on Klaus’ mind of late. The least of them is why Valdemar volunteered himself as an intermediary -- during the long carriage ride to Sweden, he had considered the options. A conspiracy between the French and Swedish  etched a worried line between his brows, for Valdemar is a man of war.

He is also a man of honor, however, and Klaus must assume his intentions are good. Certainly the welcome is warm enough, and he allowed his guard to drop just a little.

A knock at the door announces the arrival of the Queen. Klaus allows himself a smile, tired as it is. Always he has respected the Swedish Queen. Humble though her beginnings may be, she wears grace and goodness more easily than many who are born royal.

     “You do not intrude, Your Majesty,” he says, welcoming the company. Her confusion and concern are well disguised, indeed she brings with her an air of calm. It makes Klaus think of being in an empty church, with the light falling through a stained glass window onto his skin.

     “Indeed, the King and your good self are most gracious hosts. I am sure we all are eager to have these discussions done with, and this unpleasantness behind us. Perhaps I could intrude upon your hospitality a little further, and ask for the pleasure of your company over a little wine?” In truth he seeks her opinion. Not on the politics afoot, but on motherhood. He knows that Elias has struggled since his mother’s death. They all have. He has a great respect for Madeleine, and would enjoy hearing her thoughts on the matter.

[archdxke-blog]

                         The sable stench of sickness clung to the archduchess, insidious and ugly. Since she had fallen ill, Klaus had scarcely left her side. The halls of Kreuzenstein have been so empty, so hollow, for so long, that his absence has scarcely been noted. His presence is not requested at foreign courts, his children’s worthy hands are not well sought after.

For years this has haunted him, but now it is to his benefit. His mourning is private. His heart may break in solitude, and for this he is grateful.

“Mina,” he whispers, voice heavy among the incense that burns around them. It is the liveliest thing in the room. “Mina, my love,” and he kisses her fingers, each one brought to his lips even in their fragility. She stirs, just barely, eyelids fluttering. Death is close, now, and Klaus knows this. He almost wishes that he could go with her; but he must remain, and must be strong for their children. 

“God is with us, mein liebchen, and with you. Know that I love you. Know that our children are cared for, and one day, I shall follow you.” He says, fingers now twined within hers. Her skin is cold and sweating, but he looks into her eyes and sees a great love there. They were married for politics, as is their duty, and the first few months had been difficult. But they had fallen in love after their marriage, deeply and wholly, and Klaus had truly believed that they might grow old together. Certainly he had not thought that she would be taken from him so young. Not a single gray hair touched her golden head, and yet she was wracked with pain, prone on the bed as though a woman three times her age.

Klaus did not know if he could tolerate a world barren of his wife.

Yet he must learn. The doctors had left the room at Klaus’ command, after he had been told in hushed tones that there was nothing to be done for his wife but make her comfortable. She would not manage that with an audience of doctors and ladies, and he had made them all leave. She was not coherent in these final hours, but he knew she would want it so. Just them, and the melancholy song of the soft raindrops dripping through the trees outside.

She let out a gasp of pain, clinging desperately to him. Her hair stuck to her face in great pale ropes, and her eyes searched blindly for him, and her cheeks were pale and feverish. Still he thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“My love is undying,” he whispers, gathering her up. She feels so thin and weak in his arms, no longer the strong woman that had skated over frozen lakes and lifted their children to her breast. His face is burrowed into her hair, pressing kiss after kiss against her dear head. She half turns, half lidded eyes fluttering up at him. He thought she might speak, but only a terrible sigh comes from her, and her head rolls back.

A great sob rises from his chest, an animal sound that frightens the guards outside the door. They know what has happened. They know the Duchess is dead. Klaus clings to her, unable to let go even though she is already gone. He has never known a pain such as this, and he tries to fight the doctors that pry her corpse from him. He hasn’t the strength, and haltingly drinks the concoction pressed into his hands by the doctor.

“It will make you sleep,” he said, and it did. When Klaus woke some hours later, he wished that he hadn’t.

[archdxke-blog]

eliascfaustria:

There is a moment of dread at Klaus’ agreement to share the truth with him. Elias just wanted to sleep, if he were being completely honest, but he had asked. He had demanded, rather, that his father give him answers. He moved to the chair, fighting a yawn that threatened to escape. His eyes watered a little as he reached up to rub them. He’d slept barely an hour or two a day for the past fortnight. He’d never been so exhausted in his life. 

You will one day rule Austria, how many times had he heard that? His stomach tightened with more stress. That day could have come sooner, had things gone further awry. He didn’t relish the thought. He wasn’t ready to rule Austria, at least he didn’t think so. The anger he’d been feeling, evident on his face to his father who knew him well, faded a little at the thought. He still needed his father, and losing him would be a heavy blow to Elias’ already pained state. He was glad his father was alive, relieved beyond words. He listened as the reason for the mess was explained. Klaus had been too demanding, and Louis had been too prideful. For fuck’s sake.

He frowned, sitting up straighter. He needed to wake up. His fingers moved to pinch the bridge of his nose, taking after his father in more ways than he desired. “Louis besieged Vienna because you demanded more money? He brought his family here, put them at the mercy of our guards during a siege because you stomped your feet and demanded he fill our coffers for my sake?” He knew he was being harsh. He knew it. But he was frustrated. It was petty. Their family should have had the opportunity to honor the Madonna and their mother in peace. Louis’ temper tantrum and pissing contest could have waited a day or two. 

Elias inhaled through his nose, exhaling slowly. He willed himself to be calm. His chest was too tight, and his breathing wasn’t coming as he desired it to. He clenched his jaw, his shoulders showing his struggle when he fought to hide it. “If I had lost you or Amelie over..” He shook his head, not allowing himself to even consider such a thought. He had not lost them. There was no sense acting as though he had. He’d aged ten years in three days. “And what will you demand of him, to prevent our going to war?” He asked.

One day, Elias will understand. When you rule, very few matters are as cut and dry as one action being right, and one being wrong. It is a constant game of balance, calculating what risks must be taken, and which are too great. No man can succeed every time.

Yet Klaus knows that this platitude will only further enrage his son. He should be allowed the naïve rage of youth while he can. Klaus has not meant to take his childhood from him, but sometimes he fears he has. Elias bears a great burden, and though Klaus has only ever sought to ease it, he fears he makes it worse more often than not. What he intends as practical life lessons seem only to cause him pain. Yet, he must keep trying, for if he does not teach his son what he can, Elias will be angrier still when he succeeds Klaus and does not know how to rule.

He cannot pretend that it does not hurt him. To see his son so angry with him, when he only tries his best to guide him… is this a cross that all fathers must bear? The harder he tries, the more Elias seems to fume. The day has been long, and he has not the energy to be angry with Elias for being so unreasonable. It only makes him sad, and heavy, as though a great stone has been dropped into his stomach.

“Demanding anything of France will not prevent a war. Demanding is what brought this upon us. I do not have the luxury of asking for anything from them. I plan to meet with King Louis on neutral ground, and discuss what is to be done. Have you any suggestions?” Perhaps this question is unfair of Klaus. Perhaps Elias wants, for once, to be a boy with his father, hearing what will be done and knowing that it is right. But Klaus wants Elias to consider the multitude of choices that must be made. He knows already what he himself may go into the negotiations to achieve, but is interested in the opinion of his son.

[archdxke-blog]

@french-louis

     It has been discussed at length. Klaus has conferred with the greatest minds of Austria, and many whom he trusts greatly. The consensus is that this is a poor time for war. Many of the other royal families believed Louis to be vulgar and careless for his actions, and felt a great sorrow for Klaus to have his festivities so violently interrupted. He does not desire anyone’s pity, but in this instance it must serve him well. Though some would be unhappy to back France, he could not bet upon Austria having the strength for a war.

What Louis had done had been an act of war, but it would make Klaus the better man—the stronger man-- - to respond with dignity. His heart calls out to him to tell Louis precisely what he thinks, and question how anyone could have the gall to attack a man in his home with so many guests. He will not. Klaus has worked through his rage with a trusted advisor, and knows he would find no satisfaction in attacking the French king. That would surely only mean that Klaus had sunk to Louis’ level.

Klaus is the first to arrive in the chamber set for their discussion. It is a simple room, built not for grandeur but for negotiation. Sitting with a small handful of his most trusted advisors, he waits only a short while until Louis arrives. Klaus stands in greeting, inclining his head—he would remain dignified, despite the disgust he felt at the sight of the Frenchman. “Your majesty. Will you take wine with me?” he asks, gesturing to the tray laid out for them. He had put consideration into poisoning it, but his own death would surely follow such an act. As it is, the wine stands as a sign of trust between the two men: they both may drink from the chalice, and have faith that they will not die here.

[camillasc]

Camilla had been observing the pair hunched in conversation, heads stemmed together like conspirators, murmurs ever so devoted. What shrine did such devotion settle on: a higher cause, or merely each other? She regulated the breathing in her laced corset in order to remain unobtrusive. The French lady willed her lungs to bring it down to small gulps of air, flutters as discreet as possible, pinned by a bird’s fragility. She gazed below, at the bone-colored stones in the inner courtyard, at the hem of silk and skin that marked her neckline. The mound of her breast rose and fall against the chiffon, a perfect, undulating whiteness. Camilla became so enraptured with this image (with the softness that now garnished her at all times) that she forgot to oversee the two. It was only a second, but she must have missed something decisive, for one person already eloped and now their companion dotted in the courtyard like misplaced shrubbery. To save them the vulgarity of loneliness, she approached.

              “Mademoiselle Chalon, wholly at your service.”

[archdxke-blog]

Klaus wanted it done with. He wanted the discussions settled, and to return home, or perhaps to move on to Florence and reunite with his children there. Valdemar is a gracious host, and Sweden a beautiful country, but the business it will soon host is distasteful. He discusses with one of his most trusted advisors, speaking at length in the gardens.

He is still not certain what is to be done. War is unthinkable, but conceding to the French is nearly as bad. Bidding his advisor to leave him, Klaus wants a few moments of private contemplation-- - but he will not have it, for the French King’s mistress appears at his side, as a ghost. Suspicion settles upon his mind; has the king sent her to seduce him, and humiliate him? Perhaps to trick secrets from him? Klaus is not a man prone to violence nor anger, but the French have been testing his boundaries thoroughly of late and there is a tightness in his voice as he asks, “And what service can you possibly offer me, mademoiselle?” He cannot help but feel insulted; as though Louis must flaunt his harem of whores before him, when the one woman that Klaus desires is out of his reach.

[archdxke-blog]

valdemarswdn:

Valdemar watches the other man talk, his hands pressed on his sides, ironing the edges in the military suit. It has only been tailored to feign formality: from the muslin of the trousers to the low-cut tabard, these were clothes he could easily fight in. Easily… and gladly. But the choice doesn’t belong to him alone, and even within his commanding nature, he knows he would never gamble another man’s kingdom. What of Denmark? That is a startle of conscience he did not expect. It comes from the same part of him that believes kingdoms are gingerbread structures on a table, with their own candy towers and walnut borders, ready for the taking. Still… only children rush into taking it.

”Cowardice is a simpler matter in the north. It is not an instance, but rather a process; you could think it easier to define, but impossible to step outside of. It is a clear notion, and an unforgivable one because of it.” Valdemar checks his voice in place, steadying its cadence. He moves closer to the archduke and frowns as he does so, the mind whirring with solutions and ways to express them.

”Do not fight now, Erzerhog. Momentary hesitation is good in battle. Prolonged hesitation, on the other hand, is the ground it will die on. If you must ponder, do not fight. Sit down with him, settle on terms. Then let him be served by your maids, at your command; order his dinner from the dais of the table, as it is fit for a royal host to do, as it is fit for any man who masters the household. Send him only the best pieces of veal, stand your ground in negotiation and celebration alike. He will see honor in this. And in his honor you will dignify yourself.”

Run your sword through him, another part in Valdemar calls. It embitters him to see how he can feel so strongly for something his mind already decided against. Strategy is on the side of waiting, reason itself is on the side of falling to peace with France. What is on the side that compels him to demand blood? The age-old savage, the viking with a spear that dried and yearns to be drenched again. The inner disobedience at the very core of power.

As Valdemar speaks, Klaus is waiting for him to say ‘and then poison his cup’, because his heart tells him that it is the only possibly solution. He has been disrespected, man to man, ruler to ruler, and in his own home. Can a man not feel safe within the walls of his own castle, with guests that he had foolishly called friend?

And yet, he knows that the Swedish king is right. Klaus’ shoulders sag, but his eyes still burn brightly with the cinders of rage. It is likely that Louis does not desire war, but wanted only to show his strength. It had certainly worked. Even if they did go to war, Klaus was not confident that his army was big or powerful enough to defeat France. Nor could he trust in his allies, for had he not invited them to his own home only to have them attacked by an enemy? France was the aggressor, but Austria was the host, and he knew people would long remember this day as the day on which Austria could not protect them.

He would be lucky if Naples did not end the betrothal between their princess and Elias. He had fought so hard to ensure a good marriage, and feared it would be toppled by this.

“And how will he see honor, when he has none?” Klaus says. “He is vulgar enough to disturb a festival celebrating not only my late wife, but the Madonna herself. It is in the course of negotiation with him that this siege was caused; I do desire a reasoned discussion, but how do I know he will give me one?”