englishmatilda-blog

[englishmatilda-blog]

thefrenchrose:

Henriette did not wish Matilda to do anything. In fact, she had made it to England as soon the news of her father’s passing had reached France. She was there to keep her best friend company, and to make sure Matilda had everything she needed. “Yes, you can come with me to your apartments and rest.” She did not wish to force Matilda to do anything she didn’t feel like it, yet some rest would be good for her. There was no need to sleep if she couldn’t, but at least keep her feet up and a comfortable pillow under her head. “Have you eaten yet? Perhaps some tea would be nice.” There was no way she would push her friend to talk about her feelings, not until she was ready to do it herself, so Henriette simply made sure Matilda new she was not alone.

It was a cruel twist of fate for Henriette to be able to come to England for such an occasion. The last time they spoke had felt so permanent, as if a final goodbye, yet here she was within arm’s reach once more. Because her father was dead. Because Edward was gone. She forced a tiny smile, her hand quickly reaching to wipe tears before they had a chance to fall. “Henriette..” She began, her voice cracking. She didn’t want to be locked up in her private rooms, but she also didn’t wish to stand there and start crying. She was fighting, with a fire deep in her core, to stay steady and strong. “If you insist.” She relented, her arm settling against Hettie’s as she walked in the direction of her apartments. 

She paused at the question. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a meal. She’d just not been hungry, even a little bit. “Oh, I suppose tea would be alright.” She agreed, heading into her rooms. She took a breath, the forced smile still present, but it was harder with the door closed and no eyes but Hettie’s on her. She bit her lip, her shoulders beginning to shake as she fought back the sobs. 

[englishmatilda-blog]

alexandrinaofbrittany:

“I don’t need anything right now, Your Grace, thank you. But what about you?” she asked, worried about her this time. Hearing about the King shocked her, but Alexandrina didn’t want to think about that now-all her thoughts was on Matilda right now. “Do you need anything?”

Matilda gave a curt nod of her head in understanding. “I am quite alright. I do not need anything.” The English princess lied. She needed many things, none of which Alexandrina could offer her. She barely knew the woman, and didn’t need to burden her with troubles that didn’t relate to her at all. “Perhaps you would join me for a meal?” She offered, feeling rude to simply dismiss the woman. 

[englishmatilda-blog]

ainsleythescot

Ainsley shook her head, looking up at Matilda and placing a hand on her shoulder, and the other one over her cheek ever so gently “Oh, Tilly… No, you don’t have to” She said, before gently pulling her in for an embrace. Matilda had quickly morphed from her aunt to the sister she had never been given, and the mother she had lost as a child. She’d been her partner in crime around the castle, she’d taught her everything she knew about most things girl-related, and to see her this distraught, it just brought her pain. “I’m very sorry for your loss” She whispered into her hair, pressing a kiss onto the side of her head.

Matilda was rigid, too stiff, not at all her normal stature at all. The very well she held herself had changed, becoming like stone. She swallowed the lump in her throat as Ainsley tried to offer comfort, both with her physical presence and with her words. She didn’t protest at the embrace, but she didn’t return it either. She kept her arms at her sides, waiting until Ainsley pulled back. She closed her eyes at the kiss to her head, taking a deep breath before she forced the smile to return to her lips. “You are sweet, Ainsley. I am alright.” her words sounded too formal, even without using titles. “If there is nothing I can do for you, perhaps you may wish to join me for a walk?” She offered, not entirely opposed to company though she didn’t desire to admit it. 

[englishmatilda-blog]

dukeofmoscow:

As was tradition, Alexander was on something of a tour of the Western countries, embarking not on expeditions of the territorial variety, but of the personal and political. Either God or fate or both had intervened to bring him to England at such a fortuitous, albeit tragic, moment. As he walked through silent halls, he wasn’t sure if he should have been thankful or worried for the circumstance he now found himself in – that is, until he heard the footsteps of another. “My lady,” he spoke abruptly, startled at the sight of the princess in mourning, as he had expected the late King’s family to be adjourning to their private rooms, discussing the new reality they found themselves in. Then again, there was only so much sad chatter one could handle. He had been in her position once before, at roughly the same age, had felt the burden of wearing armor in the rightful place of sorrow, the pain of providing shelter from the storm. And yet, he did not quite know what to say, and offered only what he expected so many others had. “I offer a shoulder, should you need one, milady.”

Matilda did not know the man before her, but his accent told her that he was certainly foreign, and his outfit told her he was noble as did his mannerisms. She was already exhausted, and greeting foreign nobles was not something she desired to do at that moment. But she had her duty. And the world did not stop even when it felt like hers had come to a screeching halt. She would have to learn to adjust to these things, after all. She would soon marry, her wedding was still just a short while away, and then the coronation would come and she would be Queen of Portugal with even more duties. She willed herself not to think of it. Her father was supposed to see both happen. She forced a polite smile to cover the pain in her chest. “You are very kind, your grace. I thank you for your compassion. Is there nothing I can do for you? You are a guest in my home, I wish you to be very welcome. Have you been given a tour of the grounds?”

[englishmatilda-blog]

arthurcfengland:

{ @englishmatilda }

Having had his fill of the pile of papers that had held his attention for several hours, Arthur stepped out into the corridor. Plans were being finalised and invitations issued. Part of him longed for the moment it would all be over, but this was his life now. Making his way down towards the gardens, he spotted the familiar figure of his sister. “Matilda,” he called. “I was wondering when I would see you next.” In truth, it had been his fault that he had seen so little of his sister. He spent most of his days at work, before retiring to his and Adaline’s chambers to eat and sleep. The only way he could stop himself from crumbling was to throw himself into his new role.

Matilda had long since grown bored with the gardens, but today they were a solace. A place to breathe. Every second she spent inside the castle made her feel as though she were suffocating that little bit more. She’d dismissed Lady Anne and Lady Bess and had taken no company with her to the gardens, wanting to simply be on her own. She needed to think. She needed to stop feeling so strongly. The sound of her name had her turning her head, a soft smile forming on her lips at the sight of her eldest brother. His presence was enough to have her stiffening her upper lip. Arthur had so much more on his plate currently. She desired to ease those burdens. The younger woman strode toward him, “Forgive me, dear brother. I simply needed a moment outside. Would you care to join me for a walk?” She asked, voice softer than normal, no traces of teasing. It was an odd thing indeed.

[englishmatilda-blog]

rosethistle:

            “I beg you do not move a muscle for me, dear lady,” Cathryn entreated in response. Flowers of mourning had collected in a bed of scarlet tresses, a hood of sable and cloak of black flowing from rigid shoulders. King Edward had neither been friend nor confidant, though Cathryn knew well enough the consequences a king’s death could bleed into the game of trickery monarchies played. And, well, she could commiserate for Matilda’s case. Were the situation one a friend’s tenderness could allay, she might have given her condolences. “You look…. ghastly.” Cathryn’s lips twisted, the abrasive remark lost on her head. “Shall we remedy this? There are herbs in the carafe.”

Normally Matilda would have delighted in Cathryn’s presence, and she still was grateful for the company of one of her dearest friends, but she felt obligated to be herself. She didn’t feel like herself, hadn’t felt like herself for the past few days. She lifted a hand, frowning as she dabbed gently beneath her eyes. “Is..it so bad? Lady Anne spent the morning--” She hesitated, the frown growing. God help her. She needed to just sleep, that would be the true remedy. She forced a small smile, nodding. “I knew I could count on you to be honest, no one else would dare at such a time. Come, show me your herbs my love.” 

[englishmatilda-blog]

“As could be expected, everyone is quite..occupied, currently. If there is something I can do for you, however, do not hesitate to ask.” Matilda didn’t wish to do anything at the moment, save for go back to bed. She was so exhausted, even after taking medicine to aid in her sleep, she never felt fully rested. Not in days. Lady Anne had worked tirelessly to cover the dark circles beneath the princess’ eyes, but to what cause? No one would fault her for being wary, for being quieter, or harsher, or however she desired to ‘handle’ things. But mostly Matilda hated that she was wearing black. It wasn’t her color. It wasn’t surprising she’d chosen to focus on that detail, her clothing, rather than what truly hurt her. It was just easier that way.

[englishmatilda-blog]

A voice was calling to her. Matilda recognized it, but she was groggy from the tonic that the physician had given to her to aid her in sleeping. “Princess, princess you must wake. It is urgent.” The voice called, but it sounded to Matilda like someone was calling to her from above the water, like she was deep beneath the surface. She blinked, wincing slightly at the light of the flame near her face. “Lady Anne?” She blinked again, her arm moving to gently push herself up. She had finally been sleeping deeply, pleasantly. She could have strangled Anne for disturbing her peace were it not for the look on her friend’s face. “Lady Anne..?” Matilda asked again, concern finding it’s way into her voice. “You’ve been summoned to his majesty’s chambers, you must dress quickly, highness.” Anne insisted. 

Matilda frowned at the title. Something was terribly wrong. It left a brick in her stomach. She gave a nod, tossing the bed sheets aside. “Very well,” She took a breath, willing herself to be brave as her feet slipped into the soft furs. She stood, watching as Anne selected the first gown she could find, anything was suitable provided it was more than her bed clothes. Matilda held her arms up as Anne pulled the fabric over her head, then gently brushed over Matilda’s dark curls, securing them with a band just to keep it out of her face. “Lady Anne. You’re keeping something from me. What am I being summoned for?” She asked, thoughts of broken engagements already surfacing. Had she done something to displease the King of Portugal? Was her father about to tell her she’d wrecked everything he’d worked so hard for? The thought made her sick to her stomach. It couldn’t be. So then what? 

“I am uncertain, highness, only that it is urgent. You are presentable.” Anne announced, stepping aside so that Matilda could leave. The princess willed her heart to slow. It was nothing. Urgency was relative. Everything was urgent these days. It was nothing. It had to be nothing. But as Matilda walked down the quiet hall, the light pitter-patter of raindrops on the windows, she knew it was not nothing. Something was very, very wrong. She could feel it in her very core. In her bones. She walked a bit faster, slowing once she’d turned the corner to see that she wasn’t the only one summoned to her father’s chambers. She frowned at the men of the privy council. They wouldn’t meet her eyes. Her heart beat faster in her chest. She was certain everyone could hear it thump-thump-thumping. Pounding in her ears. 

She moved through them, not one stopping her from entering the chambers. She wished she hadn’t. Matilda froze. No. Her eyes met that of her mother’s, of Arthur’s, and she felt as though she would be sick right then and there. Her already light skin paled a little more as she stood in the room. It was spinning. The room was spinning. Surely it was the room itself, as if what her eyes were showing her was true, the very foundation of her world had just cracked. For the first time in her life, the princess had nothing to say. She simply stared, frozen where she stood until someone’s arm gently pulled her to sit beside the family she loved so deeply. 

This wasn’t right. She’d talked to him yesterday. She’d excitedly babbled about her wedding, about her coronation, and now he laid still, not breathing. Was she breathing? She took a breath. This was some kind of mistake. He couldn’t be de--she couldn’t even think the word, let alone say it aloud. Her father. Her papa. He was supposed to see her married, to see her crowned Queen of Portugal. He was supposed to see the fruits of his labor. He was supposed to see Adaline deliver his first true grandchild. Her eyes burned with tears that she fought to keep from slipping over her cheeks. She would not cry. She would not, not in front of her father. 

Not when Arthur was surely in far worse shape than she was. Everything would change. Everything would be placed squarely on his shoulders. And her mother, oh her sweet mother, what heartache she must be feeling. Who would comfort them? Who would pull Mary into their arms and promise all would be well once more? This wasn’t supposed to happen to them. They were Plantagenets. Her father was a strong man, healthy. It didn’t make sense. 

Returning to her own apartments felt as though walking through a haze, as if the mist outside had found it’s way within the stronghold and saw fit to surround her with a sorrow so deep and real that she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt anything else. She said not a word as Lady Anne rose from where she’d waited, intending to be a good friend and support the princess. “Oh Matilda..” She began, but Matilda held her hand up, silently dismissing her. She couldn’t take Anne’s pity, not now. She couldn’t listen to offers of condolences. Not then. Not when she had to find a way to wear the raw ache in her chest as armor and not weakness. Arthur needed her. Mother needed her. Her father would have told her to be brave. To be strong. And that was exactly what she was determined to do. 

She barely noticed the door closing behind Anne. Instead, Matilda moved to sit beside the window, her head resting against the wall. She would watch her brother crowned far sooner than she’d expected. She’d support Adaline in all the changes, she was pregnant, she had to be kept joyful at all costs. And their mother, she could not give her mother another problem to worry about. Everyone else could have their time of pain. Matilda decided she should be the one to stand firm, to make sure everyone else was still moving forward. She could channel everything into others, and then she could pretend she didn’t feel as she did, right? 

Her eyes were burning though, and she felt so exhausted. She closed her eyes, unable to stop the memories from filling her head. She thought of sitting on her father’s lap, clapping her hands at the dancers before the throne. She thought of stepping on his feet, waltzing around the room on her birthday. She thought of blowing dandelion seeds to the wind, summer breezes flowing in Windsor. Yesterday. He’d been alive yesterday. He’d been able to share in those memories with her. Yet now he was gone. She shifted, pulling her knees into her chest, her arms wrapping tightly around her legs. Stop. She commanded herself. She couldn’t play this game. She had to stop thinking of only herself. She opened her eyes, blinking away the tears. 

“Lady Anne,” She called knowing the girl had not gone far. The door opened, blue eyes met hers, a silent understanding passing between the two of them. “Have breakfast brought to the apartments.” The command was simple, but it was Matilda’s way of insisting to herself that she wouldn’t stumble under the heavy weight of such a loss. She would keep moving forward, just as all her family would. What other choice did they have? 

[englishmatilda-blog]

ainsleythescot:

The sudden influx of light to Ainsley’s eyes made it hard for her to see properly, so it took one or two, or maybe three, blinks, for her eyes to adjust properly. But once they did… Boy, was the view worth it. She had been looking forward to her travels to England. She had gotten on so well with Matilda from day one, and her father and Mary were so excited for that, they had allowed her free will to travel as much as she liked. So, of course, the redhead took any chance she could get.

“Tilly…” She said after taking up a gasp of air through her throat. “It’s so lovely… And sunny… It hasn’t been this sunny back home in so long“ Ainsley said with a big smile, biting on her lip with a smile. “Is that for us? Was that your secret plan all along?” She asked, taking her hand and walking through the grass towards the picnic section.

Matilda laughed, “Yes, sunny. It is a miracle isn’t it?” She mused in agreement, for it rained often enough in England too. Perhaps even more than in the highlands. The English princess rolled her eyes, “A foolish question, Ainsley. Of course it is for us. It would not be sitting here in wait with no one else around if it were not, no?” She asked, brow raised for a moment before she smiled widely once more. “I have a habit of planning, yes. You can see that it is to our benefit.” She smirked, taking Ainsley’s hand as she joined her on the blanket.

Matilda leaned over, carefully removing the covers to reveal the food that had been prepared for them. “Indulge to your hearts content, I desire you see a true Windsor summer.” She insisted.

[englishmatilda-blog]

arthurcfengland:

Arthur had been kept plenty busy on his brief return to Westminster with the plans for his and Adaline’s fast approaching visit to her family in Aragon. He made his way down the corridor to the council chamber, rifling through a sheaf of parchment as he went. Out of the corner of his eye he spied Matilda, his brow furrowing. “Matilda?” Crouching down beside her, he removed a handkerchief from his pocket. “Whatever is the matter?”

Matilda shook her head, her hand reaching up to wipe at the tears that had fallen. “Nothing, nothing. I’m quite alright, Arthur.” She insisted, sniffing some as she lifted her head to look at him. She didn’t want to worry him, and her nightmares were foolish, stupid things anyway. She had more important matters at hand--preparing for her wedding, for one thing. Preparing to leave. Her heart clenched in her chest at the same time as her head pounded. “You don’t need to worry.” She insisted, voice meeker than usual.

[englishmatilda-blog]

@thereignofadaline

Matilda popped a strawberry into her mouth, savoring the flavor, resting against the pillows as she eyed the dress. She shook her head, “It’s too much, do you not think so Ada?” She asked, frowning at the excessive amounts of effort that had gone into making the dress extravagant. Instead it just looked..gaudy. Matilda sighed, laying her head to the side on her outstretched arm against the pillows. “I appreciate you enduring this for my sake, my love. If I haven’t told you that enough in the past hour. There should only be a few more.” She confessed, but she was excited, grateful that she could have Adaline so present in choosing things for Portugal with her. 

It was something Adaline could still do, even with being pregnant. Plus, when they took a break from gowns and jewels and shoes, they could have quality time alone to talk. That was what she craved most, after all. 

[englishmatilda-blog]

@ainsleythescot

“Welcome to Windsor.” Matilda grinned, her hands moving from their place over Ainsley’s eyes. Of course, Ainsley had already been properly welcomed to Windsor, but not her Windsor. Not the places she’d claimed as a child, the places that soothed her in a way that little else could. This was one of the places she’d miss most when she moved away to Portugal. 

The scene before the Scottish princess was lovely. Green lawn filled with dotted wildflowers, two easels beneath a shade tree overlooking a pond that reflected the puffy white clouds in the sky. She was grateful for the lack of rain, a rarity, one she cherished. A blanket was spread beneath the shade tree, plates of fruit, cheese, and sweets covered to prevent ants from ruining it. Matilda was looking forward to painting, to enjoying the picnic, to sunbathing. She hoped the Scottish princess would appreciate the gentler climate as well. 

[englishmatilda-blog]

@arthurcfengland

Headaches had been coming more frequently for Matilda. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t sleeping very well. As if a child again, nightmares had returned to plague her and rob her of her peaceful nights. She gently pressed her hand to her forehead as she slid down the wall, her knees tucked into her chest. She didn’t even notice the presence of Arthur’s guard, nor her brother at all as she released a shaky breath, warm tears spilling over her cheeks. Her head was throbbing. 

[englishmatilda-blog]

@adelaidedelorraine

“Honestly?” Matilda scoffed, “I’ve seen better looking mules.” She sighed, eyeing the gentleman in question from over the rim of her teacup. “Addy this is boring. Surely we have better things to do than watch these men?” 

[englishmatilda-blog]

@adaliees

Matilda loved the feeling of being under the water. She liked to see how long she could manage, her eyes burning red from the water as she found the line where the surface would break. She kicked her feet, underskirts twisting around her ankles as she propelled herself through the line. She gasped for breath as she pulled herself up onto the shore once more. The water was too cold, but she enjoyed the scandalous nature of swimming regardless. Her underclothes were completely drenched, and would take hours to dry, but she’d brought extras with her, in case she desired to leave sooner. 

The English princess laid back against the shore, welcoming the feeling of the sun against her skin until she noticed a shadow, indicating the presence of another. She bolted upright, her arms moving to cover her chest. “Oh, it’s only you.” She smirked, eyeing the other princess.

[englishmatilda-blog]

She’s baaack, like this if you want a Matilda starter okie. 

[englishmatilda-blog]

❝ I will stay with you in case your nightmares return. ❞ ~ from henry

Matilda offered what could pass as a smile before she settled against Henry’s shoulder. “Thank you,” She mumbled, her eyes heavy and sore from crying. She knew that she was safe now that Henry was there. So long as he drew breath, not a soul on Earth would find a way to harm her. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? In her nightmares Henry drew no breath for that would be an impossible feat for a man without a head. Thoughts of Henry dying in battle, dying as a martyr circled through Matilda’s head as she shifted a bit closer. Maybe if she sat close enough, Henry wouldn’t leave again.