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QUEEN MARGUERITE DE MARIGNY ⚜️ ( marguerite de marigny ─ laura berlin ─ 34 ─ reine de france comtesse de montpensier ) ⚜️ welcome MARGUERITE. you hail from FRANCE and have been risen to the position of a QUEEN / COUNTESS OF MONTPENSIER. you are a member of the house of MARIGNY and will go down in history as the SILVER VIPER. though you are CUNNING & GRASPING, you are blessed with being BOLD and VISIONARY. ⚜️

⚜️ dossier ⚜️

#about #bio

callcusheart

Status: Open Location: Hotel Saint-Pol, the Chinese Quarters

Her eyes remain concentrated upon the steeping tea cup, her hands folded into her lap as her palm rubs the knuckles of the other, her ruby rings clinging against gold embedded with sapphire. Within their sanctuary burning with incense, the air thick with the herbs carried along with their other belongings from Beijing, Xiaojing remained every inch the Empress whom had taken advantage of the power vacuum to install herself as the embodiment of regality, hiding the figurehead of her only son behind thick tombs where he prepared to emerge one day as the Emperor of all Ming.

Xiaojing had travelled far to reach Hotel Saint-Pol, for she and her company had marched further than anyone else who had accepted the invitation to convene upon French soil. Fitting the sharp talons to her nails, the Empress thought to extend her own greetings towards the rest of the world once the summit was over, to have them instead process in union towards the Forbidden Palace, with their fireworks and immaculate celebrations where no one would be in want, their journeys far from overlooked compared to the reception of her own.

It was then that a visitor was announced, the doors opening to reveal the thick temple of Xiaojing’s inner chambers, the only door thus kept from onlookers the very bedchamber that was to remain closed from all seeing eyes. Rising to her feet, balancing an ornate headdress atop her crown, the Empress watched as the translator (a man well educated and now essential to her very survival in this Parisian sect) made vital introductions. "Welcome," she called in practised French, her tongue unused to how the word settled against flesh. "Come sit and take some tea, I am sure there is plenty to speak off," her pleasantries smoothing over the internal tempest.

margueritedemarigny

All her life, Marguerite had heard of the splendors of China, its silks and spices luring men from across the world to make their fortunes -- or die trying. The very dress she wore saw its origins woven in the east -- worms, apparently, that spun silk like spiders spun webs -- or so she was told. Indeed, Marguerite's finery was a thing to behold, but she was conscious how greatly it paled in comparison to the magnificence of the empress -- a fact Marguerite, in truth, resented. She watched with slately eyes as the woman stood, watched with envy -- and admiration.

In truth, Marguerite knew precious little of this mysterious woman, but that she was radiant in her power was as much as a woman like the former Queen of France needed to know. Studying the lady upon the dais, Marguerite smiled, eyes glinting with steely interest as she swept her bow and her her name, her titles, read out in a rattle of words foreign to her insular ear, but still she knew they were hers: some syllables rang unchanged, and her smile swept upward.

The translator's voice was melodious which, Marguerite considered in a distant way, way likely a necessity in his line of work. If an empress was to continuously hear one voice above the dim, Marguerite considered, it had best be sweet.

Her brow arched tall, sweeping high upon her face, and then she smiled, a cool look, flicking her gaze to the empress once more. "Of that, Your Grace, I've no doubt whatsoever."

Quickly, the Comtesse was shown to the spot, a cup of steaming -- tea, she believed it had been called? -- delivered into her clinched fingers. She inhaled slowly, somewhat surrepticiously, but whatever this concoction was, she found the scent most enticing. "I must say, this smells divine. What in the world is it?" She smiled. "I confess, I'm anxious to partake."

She paused. "But tell me, Your Imperial Highness. What do you make of Paris? This must seem a strange place, indeed. I confess, when first I arrived in Paris, I hardly knew what to think, and I was born right here in France. I cna only imagine the tremendous journey you've undertaken to be here. Was it very dreadful?"

#writing #ming xiaojing

thunpreparcd

status open location hotel saint-pol

The colour blue engulfs them, each wall and floor is lined with the carpet of French Royal blood, every corner glittering with wall hangings or bunches of forget-me-nots, bluebells and irises pinched into pouches to keep the smell of the Seine away. To someone more attuned to the ocean, perhaps one would think of the coast as the colour follows your person around the stone laden Hotel Saint-Pol — but Philip, born to the valleys of Aachen, had rarely ever been lucky enough to see the sea first hand. Indeed, though he had come to follow his father or lead squadrons within the Reichasarmee, his travels had never quite lead him to the coast — of which, within the Holy Roman Empire’s control, were few and far between unless you were to travel Southwards towards Italy, where tensions grew against the burning Kingdom of Naples.

“It is quite something —,” he remarked in French, then finding himself somewhat thankful for the tutor who had pressed upon the young Prince that if one was to succeed to his father’s own throne, that one was to learn the languages of Europa without hesitation. “They evidently know how to express such splendour to the rest of us — though I wonder if this is merely the surface with little substance. What do you think?” He asked, turning to another wanderer of those halls

margueritedemarigny

The Comtesse laughed, a cool sound, silk slipping over marble. F or her, this was a uniquely loaded question. A cast-off queen -- latest in a string of them -- it was a fine line she tread here, and Marguerie's lips pursed, a kind of shrewdly calculating glint sparking her sapphire eye. "I would hear your opinion on that matter, Your Grace. If pressed, what are your impressions of the French court? My own are...quite fraught, I'm afraid." Her smile was a mask, yet her laugh rang true. "One never quite knows what to think of that which is too close, does one?"

Marguerite's orbs -- deep and blue as the brilliant carpet upon which he remarked -- took in the prince with keen reflection. It might well be said that Marguerite had not -- as her successor had -- been born in the purple. There was no crown, no principality, nothing to fall back upon when the King of France had put her aside, but her own cleverness. Perhaps this ought to have bothered her. Marguerite knew well and good that, upon her ascension to the French throne it had certainly bothered others, but to her it only made each and every achievement she clawed from this life her very own. She'd been born in an unremarkable tower deep in the Loire, her father a mere baron, but here she was, addressing one who might well become the next Holy Roman Emperor like an equal. Her only complaint was that, where Charles' previous queens had received duchies for their troubles, she had received a lesser title, which meant she still must bow to them.

Taking in what he admired, Marguerite arched a brow. "I believe," she purred. " Her Grace the Queen of France had much to do in preparation for the summit. Her efforts have borne spectacular fruit, wouldn't you say?"

Hearing his words, she chuckled softly. "Ahh, but is that not the question at the very heart of France, herself?" Her eyes flickered and for a moment she glanced away, gaze scoring the flower fields before returning her gaze to her companion. "By no means would I spoil the secret for you. It is a puzzle you must tease out for yourself."

#writing #philip habsburg

behindfairytales

Laura Berlin in Vikings: Valhalla (s1) as Queen Emma of Normandy

#visage

oliviaalexandraamores

#about

aseaofquotes

Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

#about

QUEEN MARGUERITE DE MARIGNY, COUNTESS OF MONTPENSIER — 34, laura berlin

⚜️ ( marguerite de marigny ─ laura berlin ─ 34 ─ comtesse de montpensier ) ⚜️welcome MARGUERITE. you hail from FRANCE and have been risen to the position of a QUEEN/COMTESS DE MONTPENSIER. you are a member of the house of MARIGNY and will go down in history as the SILVER VIPER. though you are CUNNING & GRASPING, you are blessed with being BOLD and VISIONARY. ⚜️

#about #bio #more to come <3

lomapacks

in the source link, you’ll find TWO HUNDRED SEVENTY-THREE gifs of the actress LAURA BERLIN in VIKINGS VALHALLA (SEAOSN 1). all gifs were made by me from scratch, therefore i’d appreciate if they are not edited, redistributed, added to other gif hunts or claimed as someone elses. if you enjoy or plan on using them, please like or reblog the post. if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee!

#resource #visage

burdockeverdeen

by clicking on the source link you will find a free download link and a page with 384 gifs, all made from scratch by myself, of laura berlin on season one of vikings valhalla. laura is white and is currently 32 years old, though she was around 29 - 30 years old at the time of filming. i ask you to please not repost or edit ( this includes gif icons ) without my permission, and, if using these, give this post a like or a reblog. thank you !

for @tasksweekly + @periodfcnetwork : #003 / #008

#resource #visage

behindfairytales

By clicking the source link you will find 133 gifs for roleplay, made by myself, of Laura Berlin in Vikings: Valhalla s2 (selected moments). Laura is white with black hair and blue eyes, born in 1991, she was 31yo at the time of filming.

TW/CW of: flickering, flames, drinking, christian rituals, semi-nudity, kissing, intimity, suggested torture, horses. Please check the rules

#resource #visage

janeofnorthumberland -> margueritedemarigny

#about #bio

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#about #bio #resource #visage #writing

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