#bxrnqueen

[threecardtrick]

The day was not even half done but he had left his office in search of her. He found her in her chamber, doing some needlework. He approached her, gently placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. The weather had been miserable for weeks; torrential rain and howling wind and cold temperatures and it had brought everyone’s mood down. This had been the first few days of sun in awhile and it seemed a shame to spend it inside. “Would you like to come out with me to the gardens? I think the flowers are starting to blossom.”

[sweetassswan]

♛ long may they reign ♛

@bxrnqueen​; my queen, my life

Many sunsets and sun rises had passed, England and Bulgaria rules side by side in a powerful marriage that set the grounds for the future king Eden of England and Bulgaria. The marriage merged together two armies creating a large and undefeated army consisting of two kingdoms bound by more than marriage alone.  The prince has grown into a very smart young man, ten summers old. She enjoyed watching him grow, the boy taking on qualities of both of his parents; the kindness towards the people that Mary herself held and the strength in battle that Emmett held.

The morning sun woke her, the warmth crossing the sheets as she managed to pull herself from bed and allow her ladies to help her dress, and prepare for the day. In the hallway she found Eden waiting for her with a smile and a message that he would be in the court yard with the other boys of the palace practicing his sword skills. Of course, she requested that Thomas stay near, the prince a target for many due to the power he held. Once she left him, she went in search of her king. The alliance and marriage between them had put both countries in a setting of high power and held the happiest of people.

Though it has been years, she was still adjusting to being called Queen by the people of Bulgaria, it was an adjustment that would come in time. She was happy and there was nothing that could change that. Reaching the throne room, a smile graced her features as those around her bowed in their respects, yet her sapphire hues remained with him. With ease she moved through the room, a steady presence that many would say mimicked that of her mother, a grace that she showed to the people of England and now Bulgaria.

Sitting in her own throne beside him, she offered him a smile. “Eden is in the courtyard with the others. He wants to joust.” She gave a soft chuckle, their son had grown so much, it amazed her how far he’s come since that night in Bulgaria. “Perhaps… you should train him. Teach him to joust and let him take part in the tournament coming this summer.”

English weather wasn’t suited for him. 

No. Emmett preferred the slight wind, the smell of countryside and the smell of the roses. He loved the Bulgarian weather and missed it dearly. Two weeks seemed like eternity for him and he was homesick. He wanted to take his horse and ride it until its legs felt weak. He wanted to dive in the salty sea and feel his whole body’s muscles burn with pleasant exhaustion.  

Sure, English had horses but they lack the seemingly endless field with crop. They had sea but it wasn’t warm enough.

But everything was worth it, since few months ago when he married Mary in front of the eyes of whole Europe. Much to the disappointment of everyone who was against a possible union between the two countries. Because between them they had the largest army, the vastest fields with crop and they hold the key path for trade - the Silk route was outside the Bulgarian border. And despite the lack of communication with the ottomans, Emmett managed to arrange silk actually going through Bulgaria and thus in England as well. The trade between the two kingdom had multiplied. 

And he also got to wake up to the gorgeous woman beside him. The same woman that took his heart all those years ago. In their first night together. 

The sound of the heavy wooden doors parting pulled him out of his thoughts. Blue eyes found the entrance easily and his hands gripped the handlers of the throne, knuckles turning white. Every time he saw her, she took his breath away. He never knew that was possible but it was his reality and he had to work with it everyday.

He stood up, out of respect and sat only when she did so. Tilting his head towards her, he didn’t shy away from looking directly at her. Those longing looks were not hidden anymore and he didn’t spare them. He wanted the whole world to know how they cherish each other, how much they love each other, how much together they are. It made him raise his chin up.

“I could do that once we finish this.” He waved his hands to the boyar that came to ask for trade with England.

Simon was short blond man and fine sword-maker. Emmett has given him a lot of orders for the army. His workmanship was among the finest in Bulgaria and being able to sell here it would be a huge step forward for him.

“Your Majesties.” The man bowed when he noticed his King looking at them. He took few steps forward, eye flickering between the two royals. 

“Simon, here...” Emmett turned to the woman beside him and smile graced his features. “...would like to offer you the finest Bulgarian swords.” He motioned to the man, allowing him to speak. 

“Yes, your Grace.” Simon nodded, eyes drifting to the Queen. “I have brought samples and it would be honor for me if you take a look at them.”

“Part of my army uses his swords.” The King adds, looking over to Mary. “I highly recommend him to you. The steel is strengthened and the inscriptions are beautiful.” 

[quiasocrates]

@bxrnqueen:

       How? How was she to say it? Knowing the fate of those before her, she has come this far and now the fear of what may happen in childbirth. A gentle sigh passes her lips, she tries to think of a way to say it, without truly saying it. “Of… what may happen when the child is born.” There of course would be no easy way to put it. Jane had become someone who had been fighting for her, had become important to her, and Mary did not want to lose that—not again. “Have you know fear, Your Majesty?”

       ❛  If it is G-d’s will then I have no fear.  My trust is in Him unwaveringly.  ❜  Jane watches as inner turmoil permeates the youthful face of her step-daughter.  The quiver in her brow was akin to her father the King’s when he glanced over his ledgers,  and the Queen smiled as she placed a hand over Mary’s gently.  ❛  But that would not stop me from asking you to pray for me,  Lady Mary.  Pray that my child is a son and that he is safe.  I fear everyone is certain that my life depends upon it.  Will you do that for me ?  ❜

[spcrtan]

BXRNQUEEN ▎ BLOODY IS OUR WRATH ● MENELAOS / MARY 

   Menelaos knew the dangers of this alliance  ;   the political issues it could cause, the NEW ENEMIES it would make, && the disastrous consequences it would invite if all this crumbled into naught. He knew the risks but decided to take them any way because in his eyes Sparta had not other choice. Their culture, language, every thing that made his people who they were was slowly being forgotten by the coming age. It was one thing to be a polis raised on the backs of soldiers, but Sparta would leave no monuments for HISTORY to remember it by --- the soil could not be preserved, && the wood would soon rot. Their names would be all that future generations would have to identify them ... that and their feats in history.  He had not yet spoken in person with the queen of England, the woman whose power and influence could stretch further than any SPARTAN SPEAR --- the very same woman who had brought him to England in the first place. While although Menelaos was a very proud man, set in his customary beliefs, he could not deny that if history was to remember his people then they would need the power of a universal. England was such a power.  Following a servant who’d been tasked with leading him to the queen, Menelaos could not help but admire the interior of the palace as they went. In his homeland they to had their palaces, but not even the temple at Delphi could compare to the grandeur of this. He recognised the marble of the floors, and the high raised pillars that mimicked the designs of those in neighbouring poleis. Admittedly, his sense of nationalism was spurred on by this latter detail. However, Menelaos could only admire the architecture for so long before it became apparent that he too was on display. English aristocrats all turned their gaze towards the king and his small garrison of bronze-clad men following in suit. They stared at the Spartans supposed BARBARITY ; their sun-kissed skin, and all too athletic forms which somehow made them lesser. Menelaos ignored them. He did not care for their criticisms, nor did he offer them the satisfaction of reacting as their stuck their noses in the air to represent their disgust. Pompous and arrogant fools ; give any such aristocrat a strong weapon && Menelaos would have their head before opportunity was given for them to take a swing ----------  After having walked for a few minutes the young servant in front of him finally stopped. He gestured towards two large doors of which Menelaos was instructed to go inside. Turning to his own men Menelaos ordered them to remain in the hall, not quite trusting the ENGLISH QUEEN to keep her word of absolute peace. These men were stationed there for his protection --- only one other was permitted by Menelaos to enter the room with him, an ephor whose duty it was to advise the king.  It was when the doors had opened that Menelaos first saw her ; hair painted in shadow --- eyes as blue as the Aegean. For a moment he said nothing, as instead he focused more on comparing the image his mind’s eye had come up with whilst they had corresponded through, letters to the very woman herself. Menelaos had expected a far different image ;  older and darker eyes, not the blue ones which appeared so soft from a far away glance. To him, Mary, QUEEN OF ENGLAND, was indeed beautiful ... but he had been taught to beware of beautiful women.

‘      To finally meet you in person is a true gift, lady.     ‘ Those were his first words to her, his accent thick and unapologetic. In truth Menelaos would have much preferred getting straight to the point, but understood that unlike Spartans, the English were far more into small talk before they ever begun speaking politics. ‘     Forgive me, though we have conversed many a time, I am still unfamiliar with the customary way in which your people would address another of their equal station.     ‘ especially when said equal was a woman.

[sardonicbeauty]

just a quickie little shoutout to @bxrnqueen // @iinspectorjefe aka: my treasure & bestie. seriously would not know how i could have survived without you in my life. your creativity and enthusiasm and love for your characters just puts me in an awe state of bliss whenever we plot things out or discuss the dynamics of our muses together. like, it never ceases to amaze me just how well we work together. javi & stella is still my favorite ship of all time and the stuff we’ve even come up with just lowkey between pam and mary has me so excited. i always love what we come up with, it’s always intense and full of so much development i seriously believe our shit needs to be a book or a show or a movie because wow! & not only that, but your friendship has meant so much to me. you are there for me always and i never feel like a bother which is so so important. i know i can come to you with anything and you will always be honest. i seriously did not expect to have such an amazing friendship come out of our initial conversation witih each other at first and i am so glad that we progressed as well as we have. you are an amazing human and mean so much to me i just wanna shout it out to the world. LOVE YA BOOBOO! i am always here for you as i know you are always mutually there for me. thank you for everything. literally. *MUAH*

[ashensolitude-blog]

{| continued [x]: Anne || for @bxrnqueen |}

(:: A ┼ B ::)

                It was enough that the girl refused to acknowledge her as Queen,   &   now she also had to deal with her insults?  As white   &   soft as they were made, with no harsh words to truly fault them; sometimes the young Tudor truly tasted her patience.  But did any of such thoughts show upon her poised demeanour?   Not at all, not even in the light smile that lifted her lips, as if she had found her utterance AMUSING instead.   “ As thee, young Mary. ”   She intended, making a big deal of the girl’s age, an almost silent naivety onto her name.   “ Lest we forget you still call yourself a princess. ” 

-[ ◘ ]- 

[threecardtrick]

Laid out on her bed were three dresses of fine silk and embroidery, each in one of the fall colours that adorned the changing leaves which could be seen on the trees in the garden: dark red, mellow orange, and pale yellow. The red one had embroidered mulberries, which glistened and glittered in the light. The orange dress had a pattern of intertwining leaves spread over the skirt, a swirl of lighter and darker hues. The final, was emblazoned with a large sun in the center, the rays going off in every direction. Accompanied with each dress was a set of matching jewellery in the same colour. Placed beside them was a note, which read thusly, with no name attached: The most beautiful woman at court deserves beautiful clothes.

@bxrnqueen

[threecardtrick]

bxrnqueen:

Her back was to him as he spoke, perhaps this was some sort of punishment or a way to keep her from her rightful place as heir. A heavy sigh slowly passes rosette lips as she glances over her shoulder before turning fully towards him. “Try? Perhaps this is his Majesty’s way of punishing us both… to keep his own throne safe.” Mary knew well that she was speaking in a way that would get any other accused of treason and thrown into the tower. Her thoughts began to process what it was that Thomas Cromwell would gain from it himself.  In a way, Mary felt like she had no choice in the matter, her father had already made the choice for her… for them.

In truth, perhaps this good have some sort of ending that would be for her benefit, but she was struggling to find it. What good was there that could come from such a choice, even she had no idea. However, somehow, she knew that her father had his own motives, and he knew that his new queen had her own part in this plot. A light shake of her head is given, cerulean hues fall to him, gaze deep with thought as she thought over her next words carefully. “You… you are okay with what my father wishes of us, of you… of me?” If her mother remained among the living, she would be sure to have stopped this before it was even able to grow its own wings and set sail.

A defeated sigh left her shortly, the letter she’d been holding in her hand with the king’s seal was placed on the table closest to the window. It wasn’t the warmest of days, the clouds hovered above the court as if waiting for her to say what she knew she needed to, as if her answer would cause the heavens to open and pour down rain. If it were to happen, she would be convinced her mother would have been weeping the tears of the deepest sorrows.  Perhaps she herself would only know the deepest of sorrows in forced situations. Mary was well aware that things hadn’t been as they once had at court and this was nothing more than proof of it. “Even if I were to disagree, I don’t have much say in what His Majesty has chosen for me.”

Her cerulean hues cast downward, she felt it deep within her heart that she was truly not born to see the likes of happiness, to experience the happy life that she had so desperately been seeking. Her mind turned into a myriad of thoughts, she wasn’t sure where to begin or how to tell one thought from the other. “Do I?” She questions as her gaze slowly rises towards him as thoughts of what her future might hold in store could easily be seen in the reflection of windows in her own blue hues. She already knew the answer, but she felt the need to ask anyway, to confirm what she already knew to be true.

Despite his esteemed position, he wasn’t a popular man. Most didn’t want to be associated with him and his reputation and the others turned his nose up at him for the fact he wasn’t of a noble blood. Not like her. He knew the truth of the ruling and Mary was noble through and through. “What cause should I have to be unhappy to be matched with you, Lady Mary?” The kind of woman who would never consider marrying him. But Mary’s own prospects had not been good either, considering she was no longer a princess. And few wanted to cross the king. Henry’s worries of any alliance had been unfounded… but telling him that had done no good. Henry was convinced the the Emperor would plot against him or that Mary would, or that at least in a moment of weakness that she would make a grave mistake and in either case he couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have anything threaten his rule or threaten the position of any heir... to come. Thus far Anne Boleyn had failed to provide the king with a son. Wasn’t it people like her, who should have every advantage of life, which should have ensured that she not know such profound sadness and despair at her age? He had been nobody, a boy like a thousand others, born into impoverished circumstances. Of course his life would have been rough. But she, a princess… It is not out of malice that he said those words to her; simply to obey her father and be done with it. It is because he knew that going against him would only make things worse. Hadn’t she seen what had happened to her mother? Catherine had stubborn, perhaps too stubborn, and they both had paid for it. Mary still was, it seemed. He was touched, at least, that she thought that this was a punishment for him too... rather than simply thinking he was attempting to profit from this situation. He’d had no choice in this either. Or at least... “Nothing good will come of saying no to the king,” he replied, and he wanted to be more honest to his bride-to-be, but he was the king’s most faithful servant and he could not simply badmouth him. He must be ever loyal and vigilant.