VVD0D95
Banned
Without being king and having to deal with Edward I? He should be fine. He was a middling lord
Maid of Norway, Queen of Scotland: A Plantagenet Britain Timeline
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
If he's with a woman, the relationship is heterosexual. He may be bi, or gay, but the relationship between a man and a woman is heterosexual no matter what.
I think Edward's sexuality was complex, but I seem to remember that he sired 4 legitimate children with Isabella of France and also had a couple of bastards. That seems to imply that he preferred women and the only man he had sexual attraction toward may have been Piers Gaveston.
I think he was bi. Piers was his lover but Despenser was mostly eye candy to distract him. In my opinion, at least.
John Fredrick Parker
Donor
Well in any event, Edward II was a very poor king, or at least such is his historical reputation; I don't know that giving him a different and earlier wife would change that, hence my suggestion to just kill him early. Also so we can get to an effective British Union sooner.
Margaret isn't just a different wife, she's a wife who's also a sovereign ruler
Well, since Margaret is blank slate, she could have personality which could make Edward truly fall in love with her? Love can certainly changed the man as far as I am concerned, Edward didn't love Isabella of France, his relationship with Gaveston IMHO indicates some trust issues on Edward's part and since he knows Margaret from childhood, he could have been able to trust her more than he did trust Isabella.
Also Isabella's taste in men wasn't quite amenable to her being paired up with Edward who was insecure and afraid about not being able to live up to expectations (at least, that is my interpretation of him), Isabella seemed to prefer active, decisive men like Roger Mortimer.
There was also a bigger age difference between Edward and Isabella then between Edward and Margaret, so they might connect better.
Marrying a slightly older, likely determined girl who was already Queen in her own right at 14, instead of being married at 23 years to a 12 years old girl is NOT simply having a different earlier wife … It is getting a totally different lifestyle since he was 14, specially as he was already 15/16 when Piers Gaveston became part of his household, so there is no reason for which here he could NOT cling to Margaret as he had done in OTL to Piers…
Said that, nice start @pandizzy… This TL sound really interesting (and I do not think who the Bruces or Balliol would have troubles with Margaret as Queen… the problems OTL started only after her heirless death as everyone had agreed on her succession before that)
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HannesVonMetzger
Banned
How will Edward "the Hammer of the Scots" react to the Scots' refusal to hand over the Maid of Norway? OTL he crushed the Scots in every battle he every battle he ever fought against them, conquered the nation and forced them to their knees. It'll be interesting to see how this TL plays out.
Well I suppose he could go for a "rough wooing" of his own, but afaik at this point in time he had relatively good relations with the Scots, so things probably don't get *too* heated
This is indeed very rarely used POD. Yes, it is of course difficult to say how things would change with survival of a child but this would has massive effects. This would bring earlier unification of England and Scotland (altough another thing is how long it wil last) and if really lucky Norway could be too brought to the union.
And at least England might avoid mess of Hundred Years War and War of the Roses.
And we all know the rough wooing resulted in the scots going 'Oh YEAH, DEFINITELY. TAKE THE KID.'
Chapter II - A Coronation
October 1290. Scone, Scotland.
The little girl was dressed in a beautiful gown of purple velvet, with diamonds sewn into the fabric to catch the light as she walked down the aisle, surrounded by the greatest men and women in all of Scotland. Her blonde hair was twisted into two braids, one on each side of her face which were then carefully pinned under silver crispinettes, with cloth-of-gold covering the back of her head in a translucent and richly decorated veil. The entire confection was held together by a silver circlet, which signalled the place where her crown would soon be placed.
She seemed well-recovered from her initial illness at Orkney, and the people were hopeful for her continued good health. If this child proved herself strong enough to live through the tribulations of childhood, then the kingdom would be safe from its enemies. Robert Bruce had finally agreed to recognize the young girl’s rule over Scotland, as long as his own claim was seen as valid, and stood with his son by the altar. Both were large as bears, but when the Queen passed, they knelt down respectfully.
For her part, Margaret had been instructed carefully to her role. If she was good, and remained serious, Gertrud promised her a new doll. And there would be cakes at the ceremony later. She couldn’t eat many, for her new doctor wanted her to be healthy and keep her teeth clean, but she could eat at least two pieces. That was what the Guardians promised her.
Two men approached her. Compared to them, Margaret was as small as an ant. She didn’t know their names, only that they were important knights who were being honoured by attending to her during her coronation. She kept her chin up as they dropped a heavy purple robe on her shoulders, trying so very hard not to fall down. Sweat gathered in her neck and she looked up, trying to be as brave as the people said her grandfather was.
“Margaret Sverre,” one of the men said, the highest ranking between them. Margaret thought he looked like her father, though his hair was redder, and his face was much more stern. “Do you accept the Honours of Scotland?”
“I do,” Margaret said. She had practised her Gaelic and Scots for hours without end, because the High Steward said she needed to learn the two languages to be queen. And it would be a shame if she couldn’t speak a little bit by her coronation. Margaret would hate to do anything shameful. Despite everything, she was a shy child, who longed to please the adults around her.
“Do you accept to be our queen and lady?” the other man asked her.
“I do so accept, before the Lord and all of the saints,” she answered. The two men smiled, pleased, and the leader stepped forward. Margaret said nothing when he took her under the shoulders, at her armpits, because they’d practised this part before. She was too small to climb onto the stone and the robes were too heavy and dragging for her to use a stool. She fell every time they practised and some of the women had used white paint to hide the scab under her chin.
He placed her on the stone and she adjusted herself, not wanting to fall off. Her bottom was planted right on the stone of destiny, that the very first king brought to Scotland to signify his power. The great banners of his successors were planted behind her, the lions and the scarlet lilies that surrounded her every move. Margaret imagined she was someone important, because there were always guards around her, using the sigil of her ancestors, and the Guardians explained that it was because there were no more heirs after her. She was the very last of them. And she had to be strong, to grow old and have a baby boy to inherit the throne after her.
She could do it. She knew she could. It was a great thing to be queen, a great honour. Not many young girls had the chance.
A man stepped forward, one she knew well. His name was Donnchadh and he was the Mormaer of Fife, or Earl. He had a great line and it was his traditional right to crown her, a right he inherited from his father. Her ancestors were crowned by his, all the way back to the very start of the Scottish monarchy. At least, that was what she understood.
“Margaret of Norway, you are the daughter of King Eric II of Norway and Margaret of Scotland, daughter of our departed lord Alexander III of Scotland and Margaret of England,” a herald read aloud. “Upon the death of our departed lord Alexander III, and the loss of his unborn child, you were designated as his heir through bloodright. Margaret is our queen. Long live Margaret!”
“Long live Margaret!” the people cried out as one. Margaret twisted her fingers in her skirts, a smile creeping into her mouth.
Mormaer Donnchadh picked up the golden crown, which seemed far too large for her little head and raised it as high as he could. Margaret stared straight ahead, brave as her grandfather, though her heart stuttered in her chest and she tried not to appear scared. While Donnchadh raised his arms, Margaret was given a tall golden sceptre and a cold orb, which she held. They were awfully heavy and she could feel sweat drops falling to her lap. For a moment, she wondered whether or not it would ruin her dress.
“In this site, under our Lord’s gaze, I do solemnly crown you,” he echoed, under the eyes of all who mattered, “Queen of Scotland.” Margaret did not flinch as the crown was placed on her head. She kept her chin straight, the weight of it seeming to threaten to topple her head and all began to curtsy and bow for her.
She was now, and for the rest of her life, the Queen of Scots.
“Well, John,” said James Stewart, a cup of wine in his hand. “It’s done.”
John Comyn nodded, bringing his own goblet of ale to his mouth. “None may deny now that Margaret is our queen and lady,” he said simply and cryptically. “At least, Bruce and his son attempted nothing.” James said nothing, but he thought it was a miracle that the Bruces and the Comyns had yet to start a fight in the great hall at Scone. The two families had been enemies for years, but seemed willing to keep to their own sides of the feast.
“The marriage of Isabel Bruce and King Eric has seen to that,” said James. “As soon as King Eric accepts the proposal and the girl sails to Norway, the Bruces will return home and all will be forgotten.”
John nodded. “Hopefully,” he said. “And in ten years, when our queen has a son of her own, they will be toothless. Scotland will thrive.”
“I do wonder though,” James murmured as he looked at the high table, where the Queen had been placed in a carved seat for a woman twice her size. He saw that she had fallen asleep, resting her head on the arm of her chair with a man’s fur cloak wrapped around her small body. It made him smile as he thought about one of his own daughters, and how difficult it was to get them through a feast. “Once we send the Queen to England, we will lose our power.”
“Then she must not be sent,” Comyn responded. He looked at James. “Tell me, Stewart, do you truly wish to see the key to Scotland being raised under English guardians?”
“No,” James answered quickly. “It is bad enough that she was born in Norway. If she were raised somewhere, her loyalties would be to them, not us. And you know as well as I do that a woman’s property becomes her husband’s once they are married. If we have any hope of keeping our country safe, then the Queen must be less willing to see Scotland fall under English control.”
John shrugged. “Do you know what I hear?” he asked. “That Scotland will fall to England as Navarre fell to France.” Queen Jeanne ruled Navarre in her own right, but it was her husband’s men that governed her family’s lands. The idea of the same thing happening to Scotland made James shiver.
He looked at the little queen again. One of her attendants had stepped forward and was taking her in her arms, the girl wrapping her skinny body around the older woman, active even in her sleep. James looked back at John Comyn.
“I hear you have a sister,” he said, changing the subject. “Isobel. She has gone a bit wild, huh?” John looked at him suspiciously, but nodded, carefully. “Best to have her married to a good man. A good man such as my brother, Sir John. Who will care for her, and give her legitimate children to make her family proud.”
“And what would you want in return?” John asked him.
“Your support when I suggest my wife as the Queen’s governess,” said James. “She is a good Christian woman, I assure you. And you know the Bruces will never accept a girl from your Clan or Balliol’s. Best to have one from me, who is neutral.”
John smiled. “Neutral, huh?” he asked. “You enjoy playing the role of a good man, but you’re just as ambitious as the rest of us, Stewart.” The Black Comyn took a sip from his wine before he smiled again. “Very well. You’ll have your support as long as my daughter, Elsbeth, is accepted by your wife as one of the young queen’s companions.”
“Then we are in agreement,” James said. “To our queen. Long may she reign.” He stretched his arm forward.
John clinked his cup against James’. “To our queen,” he repeated.
Longshanks better head up to Scotland and put things in order 😡😡, the Anglo-Scottish union will not be delayed. I do hope for a good relationship between Prince Edward and Queen Margaret. Keep up the good work.
Aw Margaret is adorable, I am glad that she made it through the ceremony alright...
Margaret is precious!
I mean, it's fairly understandable that the Scots want to raise Margaret as Scottish. They don't want Scotland to become completely subsumed under England
Though she couldn't last through the night. Anyone else remember sleeping in chairs pushed together at 7 during a wedding???