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jonroxton

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starkqueenx

wheretheprettylightsshine: Margaret & Jasper

I wish I could come with you.

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theborgiasita

It was through Jasper’s care and devotion that the Tudor dinasty was born […] He remained a constant presence into Henry Tudor’s life, his loyalty rewarded after Bosworth with the dukedom of Bedford. (x)

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nicolamurrays

#queue #jasper and margaret #cookies for margaret?

colleenwing

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colleenwing

God save the King

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thetudoruncle

Jasper Tudor also known as Jasper of Hatflied or Siusbar Tudur was born in 1431 to Catherine de Valois (daughter of French king Charles VI) and her second husband (courtier) Owen ap Meredydd (Owen Tudor). He had three brothers, Henry VI, son of Henry V and Catherine de Valois who later became known as “the mad king”, who possibly suffered schizophrenia and Edmund, father of Henry VII and husband of Margaret Beaufort. His brother Owen became a monk and his sister Margaret a nun. After his mother´s death he was taken to Barking Abbey where he spent 6 years (since 7 to 13).

He was 9 years old younger than his king brother Henry VI and when Henry was old enough, he took over the education of his brothers. Both Edmund and Jasper were brilliant millitary commanders and it is believed that without Jasper, young Henry Tudor wouldn´t win his throne back.

Jasper had a great relationship with his brother Henry and he was appointed by him Earl of Pembroke which not only gave him an earldom but also meant that he was acknowledged as his full brother. (His brother Edmund was Earl of Richmond).His earldom was later taken form him by Richard III.

When his brother Edmund died leaving his widowed young wife pregnant, it was Jasper that took her to his Pembroke Castle where little Henry was born. When Richard of York along with his allies rose against the reign of Henry VI, Jasper as expected fought for his brother, the King. When the battle was lost he had to run to Ireland and later to Scotland. He helped Margaret of Anjou to put her son Edward of Lancaster on the throne and fought with Warwick in the Battle of Barnet where Warwick died.

Jasper took care of Henry since he was 13 years old, he was taken from his mother when he was 5 and spent his childood at the Herbert household until Lord Herbert (against whom Jasper fought and lost his castle to) was executed by Richard Neville of Warwick for treason and Jasper took Henry with him. They later spent some time in Bretagne and also at Louis XI´s court. In 1485, he helped Henry to get back the throne, he was the steward at Elizabeth of York´s coronation. He was made Duke of Bedford, Lieutant of Ireland and later Earl Marshal. He remained close to the family of Henry. He died in 1495, at the age of 65.

Jasper and Katherine Woodville

Jasper married in 1485 (he was 55) to once Queen Elizabeth Woodville´s sister Katherine who was 27 at that time and lost her husband at the Battle of Bosworth (Buckingham). It is said that they had one son that was born dead but Katherine had 4 children, Edward, Elizabeth, Henry and Anne Stafford. The oldest Edward was 7 and the youngest Anne was 2 when Jasper and Katherine married. Edward and Henry grew up in the household of Margaret Beaufort.

Helen and Joan Tudor Helen (Ellen) was born in 1459 in Swondon. Her mother was Mevanvy Verch Daffydd. She later married William Gardiner of London and had 5 children with him (4 girls and one boy).

Joan was born in 1453 in Carnavon. She married William ap Yevan and her son Morgan was suppoed to marry the sister of Thomas Cromwell.

Margaret Beaufort I have not found any resources that would claim that they had an affair but they definitely were close, she spent some time in his castle where she was a little 13 years old girl giving birth to her son and he was her knight in shining armour and they remained close if not for the sake of them that at least for Henry Tudor, the future king and as both Jasper and Margaret were regarded highly even after his coronation, we can assume they were close, though not necessarily romantically.

For the sake of roleplay, fun and romance, I will be rolplaying them as being close romantically though historical accuraties or not. Of course in case someone would like to take Catherine Woodville as they rp, I would love to see her included!

sources: Luminarium Susan Higginbotham Find a grave History Today Britannica + yes wikipedia

#queue #aboutjaspertudor #get to know your jasper

eireneofathens

→ requested by lancastriens

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harritudur

fic: Sad Christmas // Jasper's death

The weak sun of december barely lit his study room through the churning grey clouds above the palace. A fresh morning without snow. There were two big fireplaces in the room, but Henry’s fingers were still cold around his leather folder. Slowly, the King flipped it open and started read the letters that arrived today, and noticed immediatly a familiar handwritting. The missive was from Catherine Woodville. Odd, he thought. Usually, her letters were destined to Elizabeth or one of their children, not him personaly. But Christmas Celebrations perhaps inspired her and the imminent start of a new Year was a good reason to send best wishes. His eyes started to read the message, and his heart suddenly stopped. Dead. The word seemed so final on the parchment, he just could not bring himself to believe it and reread the line. But the word was still there. He never finished the letter. A wave of pain submerged him, starting in his stomach and circulating around his whole body, throbbing in time with the beating of his heart. He waited a second for his vision to clear, but it just got worse. Air couldn’t reach his lungs as tears started to swell up in his eyes and Henry, with the last energy left in his shaking limbs, slowly stood up. Staggering, he started to make his way through the palace. There was perhaps faces around him, but they vanished behind the ache and he couldn’t care less. He was dead. His uncle was no more. His mind echoed the unacceptable idea as his feet led him to Elizabeth´s bedchamber. Without a knock, Henry’s hands opened her door. Lost, heartbroken, crushed, he spotted her across the room, surrounded by her maids and lady-in-waiting and he didn’t wait for them to leave to walk towards her. He needed her. “Elizabeth…” he gasped. With a nod, the Queen silently asked her ladies to leave and during an instant, her perfect features froze, her mind clicking over with every terrible scenario possible. When she saw his face: wretched, beyond distraught, his mouth slightly open as he tried to control his breathing, his entire body shaking. "Henry, what… what’s happened?" her voice finally asked, fear in her eyes. "I received a letter and Jasper… my uncle is -he is dead." Without words, she pulled him into a hug and stroked his back, Henry crying into her dress as he fell on his knees, Elizabeth falling on the floor with him. Tears, running down his cheek, traveled the tracks left by previous ones, making him look like a lost child. His broad chest shuddered with the attempt to breathe but the pain was unbeareable. "How am I going to—" he struggled for words "to say it to my mother?" to finally break off, a loud sob wracking his body. Elizabeth rocked him gently as he sobbed frantically into her embrance. She always had appreciated Jasper, even had affection for him and the news of his demise saddened her deeply. A lot of Henry’s qualities came from this man, and in some way, she was grateful to the old Tudor for that. Her hand ran through his hair, cradling him for a while, and she waited for his cries to subdue. But they did not. The Queen knew that pain as well -a pain inseparable with love. They buried their little girl, their little Elizabeth some weeks ago. Though, there was nothing more devastating thant the loss a child, the pain was different for Henry today. Not only did he lost a family member, but he lost a comrade, a mentor, a model, a friend and he wasn’t supposed to die so far away from him. Henry should have been there with him to hold his hands, to whisper words of comfort just like Jasper had always done during years with the young boy he was once -the man whom made the King he was now deserved that at least. "Shh my love…" Elizabeth mumbled against the top of his head "He is at peace now. Devoid of all fear and pain, he can suffer no further. God will welcome him into His eternal glory" she whispered, knowing how little comfort her words truly were. They stayed on the ground, arms wrapped around each other, Henry’s face buried into her chest. Neither of them moved. Neither of them talked. Silence only broken by choked breaths from his throat and the sound of his tears dropping onto the floor. Snow was starting to come down outised and cover the palace in white. This winter will be a hard one.

#queue #harritudor s fic that made me cry

harritudur

source

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audelreys

The White Queen Rewatch: Jasper and Henry Tudor (1x03)

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harritudur

Y O U R S W O R D ’ S G R O W N O L D A N D R U S T Y a Jasper Tudor fanmix [listen] or [take it with you]

.chronological order

01 Moon Taxi - Square Circles (ft. Matisyahu) || 02 Radiohead - Stop Whispering || 03 Hans Zimmer - Song Of The Exile || 04 Alpines - Empire || 05 Beirut - Mount Wroclai || 06 Michael Giacchino - London Calling || 07 Radioactive In The Dark (mashup) || 08 The Temper Trap - Soldier On || 09 Vampire Weekend - Giving Up The Gun || 10 city and colour - body in a box || 11 Brooke Fraser - Hymn

#queue #always listen

shred-sleep-repeat

#waiting like a tudor

thetudoruncle

this is gonna be mun after exams !

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thetudoruncle

Modern AU: You are my home

/please, keep in mind this is just an introduction to the story, I wanted to include everything so the writing is put aside a little bit (not so artsy you know)

Margaret, Margaret was one of these “problematic children”, her mother would say and she could not be more wrong. Margaret was in fact a good child, a daughter nobody would ever notice and no one ever did. Growing up surrounded by her stepfather and halfsiblings who were the apple of her mother´s eye, she grew up in a catholic family where she was the daughter nobody talked about. Her father killed himself, her mother was a devoted Christian whose time was divided between hating the world and loving God.

Margaret was a typical teenager asking for attention, trying how far she could go until somebody would notice. It was not a surprise she got pregnant, way too soon. How soon would they notice that a girl that just a few days back threw away her toys was now about to become an adult? It took them 9 months and a baby in her arms. She almost died and as much as she wished for her own death, the boy crying next to her was the only thing that gave her a reason to live. Her boyfriend, far older boy than she was, disappeared even before her child was born, leaving her in constant worry, stress and self loathing. She saw all the faces, she felt all the looks. “A pregnant teenager, the whore, she fucks around, irresponsible, stupid, worthless, she will never achieve anything” tough words, fuck offs and you don´t know mes and she was never able to win the argument, to prove them wrong because what else she had than a child and a home in the asylum for abandoned mothers.

There was no other choice than to follow the tracks of Edmund, her first and only love, the one that broke her heart and finding out his family. When Henry was 3 she left for Wales.

It was not how she imagined her life to be, working in Tesco, living on social benefits. A young girl needs motivation, young girl needs ambitions. She was supposed to dream about marrying Michael Fassbender and becoming a doctor not nursing a child. Edmund´s facebook was abandoned, no uploads, no posts, soon she discovered his siblings, writing with his sister Tacinda led to introducing her little boy to the family and soon the invitation came, the words she has been waiting for so long. “Come to live with us”.

Tacinda was a hippie, dreadlocks, colourful clothes and a huge heart. Margaret found out Edmund died in car accident. Living in Cardiff with students was fun for a while but Margaret refused all the offers of marriage, sex or any kind of relationship, promising herself she would never make the same mistake again. Until one day…. the day Jasper came home.

Jasper was Edmund´s brother. Younger, funnier, nicer or at least that´s how young Margaret saw him. He came from Afghanistan and not even war and pain did wash his smile away. Jasper took over the family farm of his father somewhere in the village. He was the favorite boy, girls clinged to him but he was not arrogant or full of promises. He regarded them all as his friends and seeing his 4 years old nephew .. “a boy needs some air, not this city nonsense. he needs to run in the woods, play with other boys, steal apples from the neighbor´s garden just as we did, you need to bring him to us” he laughed but joke soon turned to be reality. Henry loved the freedom of village life, the stories he could play with older boys and soon he blended in, begging his mother to stay. With Jasper? Margaret soon found out he was a man to trust. His nephew loved him. “A boy needs a father, a woman needs a man” Mrs Sheen, the neighbor whose apples her son stole several times told her and older ladies are always right.

A boy got a father and a girl got a husband. In the middle of nowhere the girl who once was struggling from day to day to see the sun in her life, had plenty of it. Maybe she did not go to Cambridge and maybe her dearest one was not Michael Fassbender and her boy was not a city, proper Englishman but the hot blooded Welsh. The girl was a happy woman guarded by her happy men.

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