Courage Grows Strong at a Wound

Tristan, King of Scotland, Protector of the People.

[atawie]

I was so close to giving you everything. I was so close to making myself good for you, but I couldn’t stomach it.

Caitlyn Siehl, Imagine an Empty Room (via skyfcrreira)

[ascottishking]

elizabeth-tudor-of-spain:

She tilted her head as she took in his mannerisms, her own smile growing as she did. “Oh of course,” she confirmed. “My daughter is quite fond of you and only ever has good things to say.” It was true and it was fortunate that Isabella’s political destiny could be with a man she truly admired. Perhaps this would be a way in which her daughter could surpass her.

“It is the perfect time for a ride, I envy your decision. The skies are peaceful and the noisy court can do little to distract you whilst you travel. Their gossiping undoubtedly irritates you, as it irritates myself. Someone always has something to say about Kings and Queens.”

“then i should return her favour your grace, and say that if i did not fear seeming overly verbose, that i could speak only good things of her as well.” he answered with a grin. looking forward and in the direction of the stables he chuckled, “indeed they do, but who can blame them when we are the few permitted to do the very things they dream of?” his eyes returned to her, and though he doubted very much for some reason that she would accept his offer, he spoke anyway, “would you care to join me? it would not be fair of me to claim the night as my own.”

[ascottishking]

spanish-rose-with-thorns:

“You hold yourself in a way that all other men fall flat by comparison, your majesty. I believe that finding a disguise is simply too difficult.” She replied with a charming smile. Her compliment was genuine. The way Tristan walked was of a man cut from a different cloth than most. While she knew that it was her goal to become the queen of Scotland no matter her feelings for Tristan, he certainly was easy to be around and could find herself potentially getting lost in those bright blue eyes.

Her cheeks flushed slightly at him mentioning stealing her time. The princess more than happy that her time meant something to him. “You have all my time now if it is something that you wish for.”

tristan grinned at the compliment offered to him, daring himself not to linger too long on the meaning of it. he had decided to remain in good humour, and considering for too long the marked difference between a king and a man was no recipe for that. extending his arm to her in a graceful motion he chuckled, “you should know better than to offer such a thing to a man as covetous as myself.”

[ascottishking]

james-of-scotland:

James had not managed to escape the castle for long. Luckily, he’d managed to give his guards the slip and go own to one of the taverns he didn’t spend as much time in. Less recognized, he was able to move through with relative ease, glad to enjoy the scenery. James had avoided taverns on a whole since the attacks, given the state he was found in, but after the ball and the ongoing drama that he was surrounded in, he felt he needed a little bit of a break from it all. 

That was when he’d seen Tristan, of course. The number one possible solution to his problem. To his biggest problem. He needed his brother’s advice, whether it came as his king or as his brother, he didn’t care. Grabbing two tankards from the pretty bar maid, he made his way over and dropped into the seat across from the elder, shoving the tankard across the table at him. “Well, since you wish to remain unseen, then our conversation will have to remain civil. Brother to brother, of course,” He said carelessly, taking a drink before looking over at his brother, raising an eyebrow. There was no question that he looked more weary these days, but it didn’t help that Catherine had yet to make a decision and they were still stuck in England. “What do I do about my son?” 

the glare that tristan shot james was halfhearted at best, it was true he did not wish to draw any attention to himself, and beyond that, he had found himself hoping for such a situation to come along so he might speak to his brother about his rather shocking news. “i may be your king james”, he whispered before his voice returned to a more suitable volume, “but you are your own man, proven surely enough by your ability to find yourself in such a situation.. are you so desperate for me to tell you what it is you are to do?” there was a warning woven into his words, because wearing the weight of a king or not, no advice he could give would be particularly favourable. tristan had considered what it was that he would do should he ever found himself in such a situation, and had discovered that there were only two paths to be taken. that path which one could follow for someone they truly cared for, one which meant marriage and devotion, or the path of indifference, and while neither path would be ideal for his brother, there could be no option in between. 

[ascottishking]

valoisrosalie:

“Forgive me,” Rosalie started to say, her face thinly veiled by the shadow cast by the hood of her own cloak; but when the man’s head turned to face her she knew she had not made any sort of error. The same bright blue eyes that this ‘stranger’ peered at her through were unmistakable, after all, and uncanny to the Scottish king. 

It was still somewhat unnerving to be in his presence. She was not as close to him as she desired to be, the atmosphere surrounding them already tense and only made worse by the rumours regarding himself and the Spanish princess. Rosalie was disappointed by such murmurings but knew that she couldn’t simply get by wishing for them to stop; she had to approach the king herself in some way and make herself known, and this was a start.

“No,” she said, settling down. “I don’t believe myself to be mistaken, although I did not expect to find you here. All the same,” she smiled gently, “I am glad to see you looking so well.”

blue eyes moved to glance at his visitor, landing on the figure of his betrothed he lifted a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to refrain from using his name any longer. of course his first comment had been to save himself from any of the excitement which tended to follow when he was uncovered in public, but now discretion seemed to be of renewed importance, considering the kind of talk that would follow should the pair be discovered in such a place together. “you should consider yourself as such milady”, he said, keeping the word princess from his lips, his voice hushed, “here we should consider ourselves both as commoners”, he added grinning. 

“ surely not as glad as i am to see the same of you”, charm laden in his scottish accent. “though the pleasure of seeing you is overshadowed by my curiosity as to why you find yourself in a place such as this?”

[ascottishking]

tristan’s humour had been greatly improved in the past days, the weight which rested on his shoulder and within his mind had not lifted, but it bore the mark of something losing it’s balance and he was more certain than ever that in time it would crumble around him. and as his own reward for this promised success, he had pulled himself much more frequently from the dark offices he inhabited. walking in the daylight and once more among the people of the castle. 

today, he had gone one step farther, leaving the castle grounds entirely. there had been a time that adventure had flowed alongside the blood in his veins, everyday renewed with the promise of a world of possibilities, but with a crown upon his head and the weight of a nation upon him he had forgotten his own nature. cloaked in the disguise of a less remarkable man and roaming the city streets, it became clear, that the heart within his chest had not been so quick to forget. 

“i think you must have me mistaken for someone else”, he answered ,his tone urging discretion as he turned in place upon his seat to see who it was who addressed him. “this would hardly be the place for such a man”. 

[spanish-rose-with-thorns]

Her bright green eyes looked up to the man that was walking next to her. It was not hard to be around the king. She enjoyed his company and he was not difficult to look at. Yet, there was a slight weight behind spending time with him. It was the weight of her mother telling her not to ruin this for her, for Spain. Isabella wore the weight similar to a crown. She was going to be queen one day. Convincing a man to marry her should be nothing, just a small stepping stone towards greatness. “You were an incredible dance partner the other day, your majesty.” Isabella told him as she looked at him with a sweet smile and a bat of her eyelashes. “It is too bad that so many women seemed to be vying for your attention, even in your elaborate disguise.” She teased lightly and implied that she would have liked to have him for herself.

@ascottishking

[ascottishking]

tristan fell easily into step with the spanish princess, in fact every aspect of his appearance seemed marked with a kind of comfortable ease. these were the kinds of moments he had spent his entire childhood preparing for, the kind his father had worked so hard to incorporate into the very grain of his being. of all the ways his life had managed to veer away from his destined paths, this was one step back into the right direction, and charm and diplomacy would be his greatest tools. 

he was certain that the sunlight did great things for them both, shinning down on the spanish princess it was clear he had retained some favour with the heavens, and though it would have been no great trouble to maintain a charming wit and taking smile, it was much easier in such attractive company. “if only i had worn a disguise more misleading, i might have stolen more of your time, your grace.”

[hajji-murad-blog]

{{ @ascottishking }}

The Queen of Spain looked conspicuous, returning from the stables clothed in fine crimson garments from head to toe. The black glove she had left there was priceless, a gift she had received when she was a young woman. And thus she had returned to collect it, as soon as she had realised that she had left it. Yet she did not expect to encounter the King of Scotland as she emerged from the stables. “King Tristan,” she said, a smile appearing on her lips. “I have heard so much about you. Are you heading to the stables for an evening ride?”

[ascottishking]

the scottish king had escaped from the castle, finding himself as he often did as the sun faded from the english sky, restless and with no desire stronger than that to be away from the english court. he was not particularly dressed for the occasion, but he couldn’t risk making his way back to his rooms to change into riding costume, should he encounter someone along the way who would divert his attentions. 

walking in near silence, his mind drifted away from him, only pulled back into focus as the woman before him spoke. his eyes took in the figure of the woman and her fine wine red fabrics, there was no mistaking her, a smile falling into place on his mouth as he approached. “i am indeed, your highness”. pausing a moment, his smile became a grin, “only good things, i should hope”. 

[ascottishking]

james-of-scotland:

“You’re a sad bastard, you know that?” He muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he dropped his hand from his brother’s shoulder, feeling the mellow happiness he’d felt melt away. He’d known his brother was avoiding him, had hoped that with some time that he might have thought of a better reaction. Everyone was taking his son harder than he was, and he didn’t exactly know where to turn to find some kind of support. 

“I have missed my brother. Which must mean that I’ve missed my king, since one cannot exist without the other,” He said, as though the answer were so simple. He wanted his brother to tell him what to do. Tristan the King had a great many things to say about a bastard, and he didn’t need that. He knew what the king would say. “Perhaps I should start requesting audiences, since you seem so keen on avoiding me.” 

Tristan’s tone turned cold, the words piercing the air as he felt his control on himself slipping slightly. To say the king was a restrained man would be an understatement, he’d been perfecting that polished demeanour for years, and it was a rare thing that saw it stripped away. “You would do well to remember why i am that way James, remember exactly the issue that sent us fleeing our home, remember the mistake which walks the halls of our castle and calls himself king.” 

The king’s eyes moved from his brother, laughing bitterly as James spoke, “you may request a thousand meetings James, but that does not change the fact that i cannot tell you what you might want to hear. It would not change the outcome or my mind, and you might think me a cold man, but i am not so eager to hurt you that i would look forward to that.” Though his tone was clipped and his face hardened, his eyes -eternally honest- showed signs of the war raging on within him.

[ascottishking]

captive-lisette:

Lisette had spent nearly an hour at the ball when she finally found him, Tristan not hanging around the shadows looking sullen or pretending to schmooze his way around the important players of the room. He looked.. decidedly not like himself but also more like himself than she’d seen in ages. 

“I’m so sorry, I must have..”, she countered, her hand moving back to her side despite how desperately she wanted to touch him like they could in private. Looking into those deep blue eyes, she saw no ice, but a thawed highland spring making way for an approaching summer. 

“You look so much like someone I love..”, Lisette teased, “but I have not seen him in many years.. and I thought I left him on a training grounds somewhere in Scotland.” 

The Countess’ eyes fawned over him, thinking that he really did look like that devilishly handsome prince that had stolen her heart as he took off his training helm and lumbered across the pitch towards her one lazy summer day before either of them knew the sacrifices they’d have to face. 

to a stranger, the young scottish king must have seemed quite unmoving. every hair always rested in it’s place, every smile carefully cultivated and delivered. but lisette knew as well as any the charade that was, it was much too difficult for him to keep up with his own mercurial moods, let alone perfectly conceal them. but on this eve he was happy, or as close to it as he came, and it showed in sky blue eyes as they landed on the young countess. 

“why is it you chose to abandon my lookalike?” tristan’s eyes trailed the girls small frame, it was second best to actually touching her, he supposed. “how lonely he must have grown waiting for you there, while you enjoy these english festivities.”

[ascottishking]

madelinestewart:

Glad that Tristan seemed to be in good spirits, she took his hand. “I certainly couldn’t tell you that I plan to rescue him, dear king, lest you upset my plans. Better you underestimate me and think me nothing but a foolish girl, distracted by music. It is such a pretty music, is it not?” It wasn’t Scottish music, it wasn’t home, but Madeline didn’t let herself dwell on that. She wanted nothing to ruin her mood, for she knew Tristan would see through her false smiles as easily as he saw through her mask.

“I do hope you’re treating him kindly, wherever he is. He deserves to have a little fun.” A little smirk spread across her face. “He’s getting old, you see. Old and boring.” She drew out the last word teasingly. It was a sisterly taunt, the likes of which were usually reserved between the youngest two Stewarts, not that Madeline ever had any fear of reprisal from Tristan on such games. Eleanor, perhaps, but Madeline had always adored her oldest brother, both as family and as her king. 

“but why would you wish to do that? from what i know he would seem a remarkable bore of a man, perhaps i’ve done the whole of this court a great service in keeping him away”. tristan was nothing if not self aware, often painfully so, and he was far from blind to the toll their time in england had taken on his good humour. he had always been a man bound by duty, but still he had always found ways to enjoy himself, small escapes to keep him sane. 

“do not worry princess, i am treating him as well as he deserves”, he answered grinning down at his sister, as they made their way onto the dance floor. 

[ascottishking]

james-of-scotland:

James had already had a fair amount to drink. Well, he started drinking before the ball had already begun, but that was another story altogether. One that definitely involved not so smart feelings towards a certain dark haired French duchess. But, that didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying himself. He may or may not have already convinced one lady to join him later, when it was safe to leave the party early. For now, though, he was enjoying himself, the black and green mask that didn’t conceal very much of his features at all, but was merely there for show. After all, what was the use in hiding who they all were, anyway? 

“I most certainly did not,” He said with a grin, taking a drink of wine as he stood beside his brother. There was hardly a time when James wouldn’t recognize his brother. “I think you’ve been avoiding me.” 

tristan’s eyes settled on his brother, that cold thing spreading over him as it so often did, freezing him to the very bone as it sought to inhibit a further divide between the man and the king who lived on simultaneously within him. it was that same thing which had cautioned him to stay away after his brother’s news, that same thing which urged him to speak in the clipped tone which broke through the air between them. “did you expect anything else james? some fires take time in burning themselves out.” 

“why is it you have sought me out?” he asked, knowing already the most likely answer his brother could give, advice. but advice on this matter was not so easily given when two voice spoke into his ears, one of a brother and friend, the other of a king who knew all to well the cost one paid for their bastards. 

[quotemadness]

When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace.

Jimi Hendrix (via quotemadness)

[ascottishking]

joseph-moncada:

“No one can mistake such a man for anyone else other than the King of Scotland, Your Majesty,” Joseph replied, slowly removing the hand from his back. “For even with a mask on, it is difficult not to recognise royalty.” It was true, as royals had an essence of greatness that constantly encircled them. Without even knowing it, the King of Scotland stood out merely by his presence. “Forgive me, my King. A drunken guest was about to stumble into you whilst dancing. I feared that I may have had to pull you aside, if he did. But he managed to regain his composure.”

His gaze, partly restricted by the mask he wore, scanned the King’s demeanour. The man who Isabella hoped she would marry. It was a good match, of course. But he supposed he would never like the idea of her marrying, regardless of who it was to. “I am Lord Joseph Moncada,” he said with a bow. “Ambassador to Spain and adviser to Her Majesty, Queen Catherine. I trust you are enjoying the celebrations?”

 he knew the exact thing they spoke of when they recognized him. it was the same thing that had been so remarkable in his father. royalty proved more than a crown or a costume, but something that sept deep into the skin, he only wished that at times he could wash it away. tristan felt no great offence at the man’s actions, perhaps if it was another day, but he responded in a light and humoured tone, “if i am so easily given away then i will have to do better at disguising myself.”

“surely i am enjoying them more than i would have been had you not stepped in”. tristan did not see a simple bump from a drunkard as such an inconvenience, it was the aftermath of such offences which proved themselves more bothersome. 

[ascottishking]

madelinestewart:

Madeline had always loved balls. Dancing was the youngest Scottish princess’s favourite pastime, and with her determination to not let anything upset her anymore, she had her heart set on enjoying herself. An elaborate mask, gold and cream, matched her dress as she walked down to the ballroom. She was almost dancing, already acting as if she felt lighter than air. For tonight, she wanted to be. 

Spying a familiar person, one that would always be immediately recognisable to her, she hurried her pace until she could reach out to touch him. “Oh, dear, that is a terrible mistake for me to make.” She teased her brother. “See, you look so much like my brother. But I see now that you are really some changeling that has taken his place. Your disguise is no match for me, fae king. But I shall keep your secret if you promise me a dance.” 

tristan believed he would of recognized the young scottish princess even if her disguise had veiled every aspect of her features, it was the call of blood that could not be denied. and regardless of how hard his father and tutors had tried to strip even those last bits of humanity from him, some things would always remain. so long as his heart was beating. so long as their was life in his eyes and blood in his veins, he would know his own sister. 

“clearly i have little choice, to dance with you or have myself revealed as an imposter is no choice at all”, he answered grinning as he played along with madeline’s endearing jests. offering a hand to her he smiled, that smile which was entirely unique to him, “do you not worry where it is your brother hides? what i might have done to him?”

[ascottishking]

spanish-rose-with-thorns:

Isabella was rather elated when she heard that there would be a masquerade. She had missed the events of the previous balls and still wished to have fun while she was in England though she was on a mission of her own. A smile grassed her face as she she gracefully walked around the room. Her face hidden behind a delicate, yet intricate black and silver mask. It was when she noticed a figure about the right height for the Scottish king and certainly had the posture of the king that she decided to approach him. Lightly, she placed a hand on his back. 

“I would sincerely hope not though I do supposed that the mask is very well concealing.” The princess teased lightly as a smile came to her lips. “Yet, if you insist that you are not the person I was looking for, I suppose I must go find him.”

he managed to recognize the young spanish princess despite the mask she wore, smirking slightly as she spoke. suddenly he was reminded of why he found these kinds of balls so enticing. the promise of anonymity, even if it was completely false, he’d never gone a day in his life without knowledge of his title and crown following him. “why would you be in such a rush? surely this man cannot be so intriguing as to deserve a monopoly on your company”, he answered grinning. 

[ascottishking]

there were days were tristan could almost convince himself he was back in scotland, days where he could set aside the differing halls and decor of the castle, forget the dozens of unfamiliar faces. it was one of those kinds of days. the sound of his footfall’s a soft echo as they landed on the smooth surface of the marble floors, the sound of music as it carried through the halls could almost be mistaken for old scottish tunes as it lost its shape the further from the great hall it travelled. if catherine had intended to distract england’s people tristan could only praise her for such a job well done, his own restlessness drifting further back into his mind as sweet wine flowed through his veins. with a mask made of silver and purple fabric concealing the young king’s eyes, he found himself almost unrecognizable, with only the cold blue of his gaze and his regal posture to give him away. 

as he neared the ballroom room the shapeless sound of music grew sharper, intertwining with the familiar tones of laughter and dancing. steps from the open doors of the ball he felt a hand landing on his back and turned to look onto the masked face by his side, “surely you have mistaken me for someone”.