HARK, HARK ! do you know where i can find ( theodore "teddy" whitworth ), the ( twenty-two ) year old ( lord of wellington ) ? aye, he's been called ( adventurous ) and ( warm ) but all that glitter’s is not gold and he can be ( mercurial ) and ( self-depreciating ). my clairvoyance tells me he looks like ( toby regbo ).
Theodore has always been exactly what everyone expected of the spare to the Whitworth name. He was charming when he needed to be and dastardly when he wanted to be, diligent in his duties and his studies and sang songs to praise his elder brother at the tun of every corner. Power, after all, is built through reputation. And young Theodore’s only job was to bolster his brothers.
The last child. The unloved spare with a crown of golden hair atop his head to separate him even further from his elder siblings, the courts of which Teddy was told to call his home were anything but kind. As he grew from toddler to boy and the tussle of hair atop his head did not darken in the same way that all of his siblings had, it didn’t take long for the rumors to circulate. That one doesn’t look much like his father, does he, they’d whisper whenever his elder brother wrapped his arms around Teddy’s neck in a playful wrestle. His mother always was a flirt when we were young girls, the other mother’s would say when he strolled through the gardens at the age of twelve, already with a raven-haired beauty attached to his hip.
The rumors would never be confirmed, and as Teddy went from boy to man they got quieter and quieter, but they always rattled around the back of the courts mind, tainting every interaction the Teddy ever had in those god forsaken halls.
But Theodore Whitmore would grow to love nothing more than he would love a challenge, and winning the hearts of English Court would prove to be his greatest yet.
And win their hearts he did, even if it comes with begrudging him his freedom. His hair turned him into a walking angel, and his smile was all ivory and gold with its brightness. So, in spite of the whispers, in spite of the stares, in spite of it all, he took the nobility he had been born into and turned it into something grand. He joined His Majesty’s Navy, worked as crew aboard sailing vessels that would take him far and wide. Little lion, his fellow shipmates liked to call him, for the way his golden hair shone in the sun while he rode the waves with so little freedom. Little lion, for the way he would prowl the streets of wherever they happened to dock and always find the prettiest girl’s bed to occupy.
Aboard a ship is the one place that teddy wishes to spend the rest of his life, and being called back to court after the death of his parents has left him on edge and afraid he might careen over into the abyss. he longs for the roll of the tides, for the sight of a blue so endless it makes him feel infinite.
teddy can speak a few languages, though he gets the most use out of his french and his spanish. every so often he travels to italy and gets to use that as well, which gives him no definable amount of pleasure. he loves words, so the more the merrier in his mind.
birthday: december 31st. this makes him a capricorn, which, you either love them or you hate them. either way, teddy’s usually okay with that opinion. he’ll get what he wants either way.
sexual identity: pretty heteroperformative, and he’ll absolutely marry the woman that he is told to and pleasure her the way that only he can, and realistically he’s always just assuming that he would have to marry some noble girl regardless of his own choices, but he’s spent a great deal of time traveling and he loves the theatre and well... he’d be more than happy to cross some societally drawn boundaries if it so pleases him.
he is extremely well verse with small knives, and loves to keep them stashed away in places on his person so that he might whip the out and play tricks with them at the drop of a hat. he could throw a knife into a squirrels eye from several meters away.
teddy has always been warm to the heart. he puts his heart on his lovers sleeves, or so he lets them believe at the very least. he slips jewels around their pretty necks and kisses their knuckles as he slips freshly made gloves over their hands. he can’t help it, claim them for himself. it gives him a sick sense of pride to see someone put to their skin something has his fingerprints all over it.
but for all that he loves to love, he is not lost to his heart. he watched what love has done to people in the courts, watched women fall in love only to have their fathers send them a hundred miles in the other direction. he’s watched men press kisses to kitchen maids necks only to have them go upstairs to their wives a few hours later. for every lover that teddy takes, for every heart that he cradles in the palms of his hands, he has never been anything but clear that it was a temporary arrangement. no, for all that he loves at playing the role of lover, his heart is anything but free.
he’s always had the ocean in his veins, his heart beating with the roll of the tide. it was a strange calling for a young man to have, especially one who did not exactly grow up a stone’s throw from the changing tides, but the first time his boot stepped onto sand and his lungs filled with salt he knew that he was in love. that he would be in love for the rest of his days.
