brigitte

Brigitte, xx Duchess of Burgundy

[brvgitte-blog]

adelaidedelorraine:

   ‘ well, perhaps it is good that you think so, ‘ adelaide said, glancing over at the other girl. ‘ even you might be fashionable compared to the english, and after all - it is likely that you will be forced to live much of your life on this horrid isle. unless you find some way to rid yourself of that mysterious betrothed of yours. ‘ 

“Oh, Adelaide, don’t,” Brigitte says, face falling. For a moment she considers whether it would be such a pity if Prince James were to fall from his horse or some such thing, but she immediately banishes the thought. “I think that I would do anything to avoid my marriage. You don’t know any assassins, do you?”-- - It is a joke, of course, albeit a most treasonous and inappropriate joke. One that Brigitte would not generally make, but Adelaide is one of the few people whom Brigitte can call a friend. She can be a little more open with her, without fear of judgement, even if she knows that she will confess these terrible thoughts to her priest later. Made in jest or not, she knows she must never think such things.

[brvgitte-blog]

aileeneofscots:

“Aye, then you can enlighten me. Tell me how it ends and save me the trouble of having to read.” She bowed her head to the newcomer, “I have no doubt you are right. I must say I have found it father dull, I truly do not need to hear so many times how attractive those involved were. Remove the flattery and I fear you would be left with little more than a pamphlet.”

“The licentious priest was banished, and the lady was forgiven by her husband who would soon give her two sons. I know the sons, in fact, and they have grown into fine men despite the sins of their parents. The family is still not well thought of in French court, however. In matters of piety, the French are not quick to forgive.” Brigitte says, seating herself. Scandal and gossip made her uncomfortable for the most part, and she preferred to stay out of it. Dull, some called her, but at least she felt safe. “You must forgive me, I do not think that I know your name...?”

[brvgitte-blog]

jamesofengland:

The whole thing was ridiculous really. Just because of how they had been born, they had to do whatever it took to keep the countries safe. It wasn’t as if he asked for any of this, and yet there was nothing that any of them could actually do about it.

Seeing this entire scene reminded him partly of why he disliked court just as much as he did. He knew it was hardly their fault, this was just the way things were. But in reality the whole thing was just useless. Perhaps what he did didn’t actually help any more then anything that happened here. He couldn’t tell, he tried to spend as little time here as he could. Perhaps that was unfair on his family, he did hate how much time he spent away from them, but at the same time he wasn’t going to change it. Something he was not sure how she would react to al of that. In truth he was going to be leaving any time soon, right now his family needed him here. But that would only last so long before he would leave again.

For a moment he wondered if he had been a little bit too forward with it. He had done worse in the part, but those had been minor things that would not have affected anyone, this was not one of those times. Considering that they had no choice in this, he wanted to at least try and somehow get some control over the situation. Granted that was probably not something that was going to happen, but he could at least make an attempt.

It was almost a relief when she did agree to walk with him, although he had a feeling that the conversation would not exactly be easy. “There is very little that would, I am well aware of that. Yet you are right, there is very little that I would not do for my country” which was one of the reasons that he did spend as much time fighting as he did. And there it was, the reminder that he walked in on her having a conversation he wished she had not been a part of. “The lady does exaggerate” of course that was all it was, he knew what she would have said was true, he wouldn’t deny it either, that would not be fair, but he doubted the truth would have been as extreme as she made out. “Whatever my past… indiscretions, as you called them, were, just that, the past” and he had no intentions of continuing it after their marriage, before then? He had yet to really decide.

It is not the answer that Brigitte wants. But then, perhaps no answer would satisfy her. She had never expected her husband to enter into the marriage pure, and she cannot say why it bothers her so-- - except that she cannot abide the hypocrisy of it, nor the fact that he will be so much more knowledgeable on these matters than her.

As they walk, she feels the pieces of her life settling before her. She has never been carefree, but it seems as though shackles are being placed about her wrists and ankles now that she may never escape.

“Then we shall leave the past in the past,” she says, pushing the topic to the back of her mind. She is not sure that she believes him, but so far has no reason to distrust him. “And instead, look to the future. What... do you expect from your wife?” Brigitte asks, cheeks flushed. Many have advised her that her duty is simply to please her husband and obey him in every way, and she hopes that it will not be so. She does not want to believe that any man could be so narrow, so cruel.

[gigilanes]

         for the third time this week, a harmless stroll through the english castle gardens had been ruined by the incessant rain. ‘ how the english survive in this weather all their lives, i do not know, ‘ she huffed, trying to dry her hair. ‘ i do not know how much longer i can endure it here. ‘

[brvgitte-blog]

“I find it quite refreshing,” Brigitte says mildly, touching her fingertips to the damp, curling ends of her hair. “And there is much more occasion to wear furs here. I have never been terribly fashionable but I have had made a hat of beaverskin, and it might be the softest thing I have ever touched.”

[aileeneofscots-deactivated20171]

It was a strange decision, to move towards the library first, upon arriving in France. She should have called upon friends, began work improving her nation’s, and her household’s position. Instead she had settled herself, a fictionalised account of true french scandal in her hand. 

Frivolous, some may have called her actions, but that was not her intention. She did not read for pleasure. She had long found the best way to understand a people, and how to navigate their social order, was to look at what scandalised them. She wanted to know what shocked, and who was outcast. 

She could feel a pair of eyes on her, and she looked up. Risking the incorrect omission of a title she spoke to them, raising the text, “You may ask me about it, if you wish.  Although I cannot promise my insights will be of mush use or interest to you.”

[brvgitte-blog]

“I have read it already, my lady,” Brigitte says, smiling wryly as she recalls how irritated her mother had been that that Brigitte would waste her time on such dross. “But I confess, I am interested to hear how the tale may be interpreted by someone not French. I have a suspicion that this was penned not for its merit, but to please and flatter the individuals involved. Does it bear much interest to an outsider?”

[ncrthumberlands]

                  Archery. In the wake of his wartime wound, it was one of few sports that did not cause great complaint to his abdomen. Seeking the thrills of his youth, he sought to engage often. Though he could no longer enjoy the leisure pursuit in prolonged bouts, the morning sun had perched and rested just so over the Portuguese grounds to reinvigorate the King, tempting him to a quest. His arrow piercing the centre of his target, King Josias turned to the approaching figure, their footfalls sounding upon dewy grass. “ Good morning, your grace. ” His eyes raked across the array of arrows and bows, “ do you play? ”

[brvgitte-blog]

“I am not so learned at sport, I am afraid, your highness” Brigitte says, offering him a curtsy. It has long been impressed upon her that it would not be ladylike for her to shoot bows; she rarely even rides her horses, though she is devoted to them and spends a great deal of time with them. “Indeed, I cannot think that I have ever so much as handled a bow. It must take a great deal of practice to pierce anywhere near the target with an arrow.”

[brvgitte-blog]

jamesofengland:

James felt exhausted. The journey back to England was always tiring enough as it was, added to the fact he had ridden here in a day, and then the normal court formalities, the whole thing just meant that he wanted to stay in his chambers and try to sleep. But right now that wasn’t an option, he wasn’t even sure when it would be one again. It didn’t seem like he would be leaving court again anytime soon.

One thing that he did hate, was being announced almost everywhere that he went. He imagined that it would happen less once he had been home a little while longer, but for now it was just something that he had to put up with. That was simple enough, what he hadn’t been expecting was his betrothed to be there. Not that he had known who she was, until she said her name. He knew that was going to be difficult enough to handle when it had simply been an arranged marriage. But now, given the colour of the other woman’s face, he realised that this might have got a lot harder. He knew he should have behaved a lot more then he had, but when he had grown up hearing the stories of the military, being shipped off at such a young age had simply meant that there had been certain things he had wanted to do before he left. He had never thought he’d make it long enough to even meet the woman, let alone actually make it to the wedding day.

“Duchess, my apologies, I must apologise, I was not expecting to meet quite like this either” especially with the tension he could read off of the other woman. He knew he probably should know her name, but right now he was pulling a blank. After all, it had been a mutually beneficial relationship. He knew there were many who’d share his bed in the hopes he’d somehow either marry them, or they would have a child. The whole thing was silly really, but it wasn’t as if he made any promises for it to be more then that. He knew his duty, and once that went ahead then he would at least try to stick to his duty, although given her  current demeanour, he wasn’t sure this would exactly be a perfect match. “Perhaps I should leave until the dinner this evening. Unless you would prefer to walk somewhere a little more private” or at least away from some of the women here, who might know a little too much about him.

Brigitte hesitates.

She’s not sure why. Nobody has told her this would be a moment of ornate love and beauty; that she would see him, and swoon. Her mother has raised her to view this as a business transaction and little more.

It’s not that her heart is breaking because she will spend her life with this man; this impious man that made the women around them blush. No, her heart was breaking because he wore the military in his straight-backed shoulders like a cloak, and she did not think that he would hesitate to take the men from her country or the money from her coffers if it would aid him. He would not hesitate to send Brigitte wherever he pleased if he thought that it aided him. Perhaps it is unfair of Brigitte to pile all of these accusations upon him, even in her own mind, but it is only now that she really realises how her freedom and life have been bartered away. She can only hope, feebly, that he will at least fall in love with Burgundy and defend it with all of his heart.

She finds herself looking down, inspecting the pointed leather toes peeping out from her dress, but forces her gaze up. She cannot be so weak. Should they walk? If Brigitte looks back to her ladies for guidance she will seem foolish, and certainly her mother would have her obey propriety and wait for their formal introduction at dinner... but Brigitte feels that things will be easier if they discuss matters in a less structured setting first. Perhaps they can still come to see eye to eye.

“Let us walk,” she says in a voice whose confidence is belied by the hesitation that fell before its sound. Before she can change her mind, Brigitte sets off at a brisk pace, and as she speaks she does not face James. Again she pauses; she has all of the astringent words of her mother, but none of the conviction behind it. A great sigh is stifled beneath her kirtle. “I wish to be honest with you, your highness, and I do not know that there will be much time for honesty over dinner. There is little... little in this arrangement that pleases me. I do it for Burgundy, not for myself, and I am sure you do the same for England. If you and I can be allies, it would be well for all... but please, with future indiscretions, ensure that they are indeed discreet. I cannot enter a marriage in shame.”

It is too soon entirely to be making demands of him, but she hates that she has only just landed and has already heard of his womanising. Is this truly what God wishes for her life?

[brvgitte-blog]

rosethistle:

Such lowly quarters were uncomplimentary to the porcelain complexion of two high-born women; princesses in their own right, extensions of their royal crown without a shadow of a doubt; born and bred with a silver spoon and gilded oyster depressed upon their tongues. And yet all the more stimulating for her lack of permission, Cathryn would be begrudged to move even the hair of an inch, finding her location within the court-hall to be rightful, Brigitte of Burgundy’s presence to be serendipitous. 

“If it shall stay between us, our parties will not hear a lick of our transgressions - if one would deem our presence to be so.” A smile flickered against her mouth, “I presumed, erroneously, that the English system would mirror that of the Scottish, thus I am equally as agog to listen in. I do hope we have not missed the lion’s share of legalities.”

If she is not mistaken, then Brigitte senses a kindred spirit here. Perhaps coming to live across la manche won’t be so terrible, if there are people like Cathryn here. Even if Cathryn reveals herself to be one of a kind in this cold, dreary landscape, then that is at least one person in whom Brigitte can seek companionship, even friendship. An easy smile works its way across her face, cheeks full and relaxed in a way that usually only her sisters can bring about.

“Oh, are we late? I think that nothing in France ever begins in a timely fashion, despite our aspirations in Burgundy to change it. Do you know the cause of this trial? I only saw in passing that there were such crowds, and find that I have arrived a little unprepared,” She glances around, trying not to look so much like an outsider. It is quite different to France, in ways so intricate and numerous that it is difficult to express. One might have thought that a courthouse was just a courthouse, but one would be wrong.

[brvgitte-blog]

closed starter for @jamesofengland

Have you heard, the women giggled, Prince James is returned. Among them, Brigitte felt like a lark among birds of paradise. They were filled with life around her, laughing and spinning and giddy. Brigitte sat with her needlework, idly taking in the chatter. She supposes she should be pleased, that her betrothed seems so popular. As it is, though, Brigitte feels very little. She knows that they are to be introduced tonight over a banquet, and she feels simply resigned to this.

One of the women, seemingly feeling sorry for Brigitte sitting there friendless, seats herself next to her. She must not realise who Brigitte is, for she says Are you excited for the Prince to return? I am; I was fortunate enough to enjoy his good favour, before he left. We spent a great deal of time together, if you understand my meaning. Brigitte looks up from her needlework, simultaneously shocked and unsurprised. She has read of what is expected in the marital bed, and does not look forward to it. She had hoped that at least James would be as inexperienced as she, but apparently not. Perhaps it is a good thing. Brigitte does not wish to fall in love with her husband, for she knows how easily he could die. She does not think she will see much of him, regardless. Knowing that he has been unfaithful before their vows are even said just gives her hard a coal-hard piece of ammunition against him to be tucked away.

I do not know him, Brigitte replies, but I will soon, for we are to be married. The young lady beside her opens her mouth slightly, face burning in shame just as the herald’s trumpets start up. It seems that God is to torture Brigitte today, for they announce that Prince James is approaching. He strides into the room, enormous and slicked in confidence. She feels just a little more of her power slip away through her pale fingertips, for it is clear that he could easily pluck from her anything he desired. “Your highness,” she says, dropping into a curtsy. “I am Duchess Brigitte. I confess, these are not the circumstances I had anticipated meeting you under,” Her voice is difficult to read; she is not sure what else she can say. She can still feel the furious embarrassment of the woman beside her, giving off heat like hellfire.

[brvgitte-blog]

bergeniia:

“yes, christ may have wept and all weeping is fine and is good, but i think that there comes a point where it is less productive to weep about what has been lost than to separate the good memories and focus on those. and truly would we not want to celebrate the man’s new union with christ?” 

Brigitte is a little taken aback by the brash way in which Bergenia speaks; she is almost impious in her attitude. “It is not about production, your highness, but about respect, and memory. I do not believe that Christ would want us to so easily pass by our grief. Suffering leads to purity of the soul.”

[brvgitte-blog]

hrhbianca:

As much as Bianca understood about politics from being present during her husband’s talks with his nobles, she stopped herself from moving as far as to understand how politics could take precedence over the death of a human being. “No, it is certainly not our place, Princess.. those who should be concerned with the politics of the matter are our Kings, and the late King Edward’s family. Those outside of the aforementioned should simply pray for the life that is lost, and allow their hearts the time needed to heal.” She did not want to speak of the lately departed anymore, instead she wished to welcome the Princess of Burgundy to Germany, “May I offer my deepest apologies that I could not welcome you to our land upon your arrival? I trust that you have been cared for in my absence.” 

“Germany has been a most hospitable host,” Brigitte replies, inclining her head in thanks. She is as keen as Bianca to move past the topic; it is all she is able to think of. She had dreaded her marriage enough when it would simply be the royal family of England that she would marry into. Now, it will be the grieving royal family of England, and if her own family is anything to go by, grief can make people hard. “Please do not feel that you must apologise to me; I know that a queen must have many duties upon her hands. A country is more important than a guest, after all. I have been quite content at the chapel. Your priest gave some wonderfully illuminating words on humility and diligence.”

[bergeniia]

“oh dear! everyone is so down, such a shame. i would think that the death of the king would make one sad, but why would you not see a celebration for the rise of the new king? a celebration of life?” 

[brvgitte-blog]

“A new king is a fine thing, to be sure, but the English royal family must grieve the loss of their loved one. Grief is a powerful thing. Christ himself wept to bear witness to Lazarus in death, even knowing that he would raise Lazarus in time. If Christ weeps at the fact of death, I cannot think what we humble children may be any stronger.”

[memoryslandscape-deactivated202]

I grew up in the shadow of a big bookcase: a tall Babel, where verses, novels, histories, row upon row … all mingled and murmured.

Charles Baudelaire

, from “The Voice,”

Complete Poems

(Carcanet Press, 2007)

[brvgitte-blog]

                   below the cut you will find 120  medium, hq gifs of lily collins as snow white in ‘mirror mirror’. all of these gifs were made by me from scratch - they were created for personal use but i’m popping them into the tags in case anyone else finds them handy. you may edit them for gif icons/graphics, but credit must be given, and of course you can use them freely in rp threads.

[hrhgenevieve]

//OPEN.

                                  THE KING OF ENGLAND IS DEAD – The words on the parchment seemed distant yet crystal clear. “Tis a dark day, indeed.” Bianca whispered. She had not been queen for long, not met the English king who’s death had been the most recent news in the palace. But, she sympathized with England and the family who had just lost their father and husband. She looked at her companion, “What can one do, if not pray for them during this sad time?” How easily something could have happened to her own lord husband, she thought. How she could not bare something so heartbreaking.

[brvgitte-blog]

Though France had been at war with England, Burgundy itself had remained independent of it, with the promise that were troops or resources needed, Burgundy would provide. She knew that King Louis would be celebrating; but Brigitte did not feel like it. Beyond the politics, Edward had been a husband, a father, a man. He was with God now, but his family must remain and learn to live without him. Brigitte has lost her own father, and knows how it plagues one’s heart. Every smile quelled, every laugh silenced. “It is not our place to do anything, I believe. England is vulnerable in its mourning, and we must give them space to understand what it is that has transpired.”

[thecncvak]

@brvgitte

                       It was certainly unseemly for one of royal breed to make an appearance at something as lowly as a commonplace trial, but Cathryn’s overwhelming curiosity could not keep from the outskirts of the scene for long. Hidden from view, a balustrade concealing her person, she pierced a needle through a satiny cloth as a mere guise, her ear keenly attuned to the voices which filtered from the courthall all the while - magistrates, judges, and witnesses all within earshot as she engaged her ladies-in-waiting in silence and sewing. In doing so she had nearly missed the Duchess of Burgundy’s figure skirting by, a crease to her forehead as she pondered the woman’s presence. She imagined, for a moment, that the Duchess had the same intent as she. ‘ Your Grace, ’ Cathryn commented, her ladies rising with her. During her sojourn on the isle she had seen the Duchess only briefly, given the sheer and considerable size of the English court. ‘ England is certainly large enough to elude the best of company, but I am surprised to see you here of all places. Are you in need of redirecting? ’

[brvgitte-blog]

Ah, Brigitte thought, caught. She should not have come, but exploration was one of the few joys she took in travel. The cogs that powered the machinations of every country were so different, and she delighted in learning of them.

“I thank you for your concern, your highness, but I find myself precisely where I desire to be. I am not so familiar with the English judiciary system-- - if I am to be an English princess, it seems right that I learn more of the country’s workings. I am a little embarrassed to be caught here, I confess, but if you are here also then it cannot be too great a sin to frequent the courthall.” There is something of a knowing glint in Brigitte’s eye, of a secret shared. Neither of them really ought to be here, and so it must remain their secret. To reveal the other’s presence at somewhere so common would reveal their own presence, too.

[brvgitte-blog]

adelaidedelorraine:

       the duchess’s words caught her attention - striking an interest she had not expected, when she had seen brigitte enter. ‘ you were with the austrian prince? ‘ adelaide asked, seeking to confirm that she had not misheard. in her brief encounter with the young prince, he had been almost annoyingly gracious, despite her own behaviour. ‘ did he threaten you? i always suspect those who seem too pleasant must have some dark secret - perhaps his is a temper that he cannot control. ‘ the idea amused adelaide ; she liked the idea that all people were, deep down, as flawed as herself. ‘ as if any of us had something to fear from the french. his majesty may enjoy shows of power, but i do not think he would harm innocents without due cause. ‘ 

“Threaten me?” Brigitte asks for clarity; she is always impressed by Adelaide’s ability to cast a negative light upon things. “I suppose he could have been forgiven for perceiving me as some sort of a threat, given the circumstances. But in truth I found him an honest companion, if a little distressed by the invasion upon his home. Must he have some dark secret? I like to believe that a gentle person can indeed be gentle to their heart.” Her query is asked with a little humour, for she knows that she and Adelaide are not alike, and will likely never see eye to eye on many matters. It does not mean they cannot be good companions to one another.