#Duchess of Södermanland

[empress-alexandra]

Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna of Russia, Duchess of Södermanland with her son Prince Lennart of Sweden, Duke of Småland, 1910.

[andiatas]

Queen Josefina of Sweden and Norway by Sophie Adlersparre (oil on canvas, 1856)

Joséphine Maximiliana Eugenia Napoleona of Leuchtenberg was born in March 1807 in Milan, the daughter of a French general.

On 23 August 1822, Crown Prince Oskar came on a visit to Eichstätt in Bavaria, where he met Joséphine. The Crown Prince fell in love with her, and asked for her hand in marriage a few days later.

On 19 June 1823, her Swedish marriage ceremony took place at Stockholm Cathedral. Her official name became Josefina.

Josefina contributed towards the construction of the first Catholic church in Stockholm in 1837, and towards establishing the Catholic congregations in Gothenburg and Kristiania. She established and supported many philanthropic associations, including the Josephinahemmet home in Blackeberg, Stockholm, and she worked hard to help poor mothers and widows with children.

When Oskar ascended to the throne in 1844, Josefina gained increased political influence. She was the king's only truly loyal advisor.

Photo: royalpalaces.se

[postcard-from-the-past]

Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna of Russia, Duchess of Södermanland and Prince arl Wilhelm Ludvig of Sweden, Duke of Södermanland

Swedish vintage postcard, mailed in 1913 to Wien, Austria

[theroyalsandi]

Swedish Royal Family - Princess Sofia, Duchess of Värmland with her children, Prince Julian, Duke of Halland, Prince Gabriel, Duke of Dalarna and Prince Alexander, Duke of Södermanland attend the celebration of the King's 78th birthday anniversary at the Royal Palace in Stockholm, Sweden. (Photo by Michael Campanella) | April 30, 2024

[wonder-worker]

Seal of Ingeborg Håkonsdatter | Daughter of King Håkon V of Norway and Eufemia of Rügen | Wife of Duke Erik Magnusson and Knut Porse | Mother of King Magnus Eriksson of Sweden and Norway | Duchess of Södermanland, Halland, and Estonia | The first female de jure and de facto regent of Sweden

Original in the Hesburgh Library | Image taken from The Queens and Royal Women of Sweden, C. 970–1330: Their Lives, Power, and Legacy (Caroline Wilhelmsson)

[charlotte-of-wales]

Happy 47th birthday to Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden, Duchess of Västergötland!

Born on 14 July 1977, Victoria Ingrid Alice Désirée is the heir apparent to the Swedish throne, as the eldest child of King Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden. If she ascends to the throne, she would be Sweden's fourth queen regnant (after Margaret, Christina and Ulrika Eleonora) and the first since 1720. Her inheritance is secured by Sweden's 1979 Act of Succession, the first law in Western Europe to adopt royal absolute primogeniture.

She was baptised at the Royal Palace Church on 27 September 1977. Her godparents included Crown Prince Harald of Norway (later king of Norway), and Princess Beatrix of the Netherlands (later queen of the Netherlands, 1980-2013).

Victoria was made crown princess on 1 January 1980 by the 1979 amendment to the Act of Succession of 1810 (Successionsordningen).

On 24 February 2009, it was confirmed that permission had been granted and that Victoria would marry Daniel Westling in the summer of 2010. The wedding date was set in Stockholm Cathedral for 19 June 2010, the 34th anniversary of her parents' marriage. The couple have two children: Princess Estelle Silvia Ewa Mary, Duchess of Östergötland (12) and Prince Oscar Carl Olof, Duke of Skane (8)

Often referred to as the "Godmother of Europe, Crown Princess Victoria is the godmother of eighteen children including: Prince Constantine Alexios of Greece and Denmark; Catharina-Amalia, Princess of Orange; Princess Ingrid Alexandra of Norway; Prince Christian of Denmark; Princess Eléonore of Belgium; Princess Katharina of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha; Princess Leonore, Duchess of Gotland; and Prince Alexander, Duke of Södermanland.

[phykios]

If I Were A Blackbird, part 12 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

His Majesty King Frederick III of Sweden, dispensing entirely with etiquette, noisily slurped up a noodle, and then picked out a bit of chicken with his fork, before grasping it between his fingers and popping it in his mouth. “Mm,” he hummed. “Delicious. Nothing like a classic American alfredo.” 

Annabeth, Crown Princess and Duchess of Södermanland, pushed her pasta around the plate, stomach too tight to eat. 

Over the last few years, dinner with her father had become less and less of a frightening affair. Which was ironic, because in that time he’d gone from being a regular old prince, to the King. With all the divine power and magical rituals that went along with it. 

It helped that the Princess Consort rarely joined them anymore, a decision Annabeth was pretty sure traced to the fact that she was the Princess Consort, and not the Queen. And dinners that had once felt like they took place between Princess Annabeth and Prince Frederick now feel more like they are just between Annabeth and her dad. 

She liked that. 

But it didn’t stop her from stress-knitting a sweater for Percie on her flight all morning and afternoon after being informed via calendar notification that she had been invited to dinner with the king upon her arrival back home. 

The sweater was dark blue and had the Olympic rings, matching the one she had knitted for her dog’s namesake. And also the one she was making for herself. 

“Guido really outdid himself with dinner tonight,” he said, dabbing at his face with a napkin, “but it still isn’t as good as the donut you brought me from New York.” He grinned at her. “We really do need to get them to build a Dunkin here.”

She couldn’t help but grin back. “Maybe that will be my first act as queen.”

He laughed. “A good use of your divine rights, but I am not sure I want to wait that long. Do you think I would be able to get a Dunkaccino in Fólkvangr?”

“Well you certainly seem sure of your future.”

“One must be prepared to dream big,” he said, “particularly when one is a king.” 

“An iced coffee and a warrior's death,” she laughed. “What more could a king ask for?”

His smile dropped, face hardening, and the very air seemed to grow… uncomfortable. He considered her, and carefully put down his fork. “Perhaps nothing more a king could want. But… as a father…” 

A chill went down her spine. Oh gods. Oh no. Anything but this. 

And neither, apparently, was her dad, who was suddenly very interested in the embroidery on his napkin. “...Is Percy ready for Athens?” 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. This was what he was playing at? “Yeah, just a few more weeks. He’s excited.” 

“Any chance he’s going to stop by here, on his way?”

“Um, no, he’s got his normal ritual at home, and then he’s heading over with team USA.” She frowned. “Why?”

“Well,” he said, with a significant look, “it will have been four years, at the Olympics, won’t it? And I was wondering when we were going to be seeing him on a more… permanent basis.” 

That brought her up a little short. Percy was around for almost all major holidays now, unless it conflicted with a race. And even then, sometimes he skipped them. What could he possibly want Percy to come back to Sweden for? He’d been here a month for National Day and Midsummer, and the two of them seemed to be getting on fine. 

And as for permanent… he’d more or less abandoned Luke’s apartment in New York City as anything more than a pretense. It was still on his driver's license, but she was pretty sure none of his stuff was there anymore. Two weeks ago, when he’d been in New York for a Good Morning America appearance, he’d stayed over at hers, despite her still being in Sweden at the time. And that wasn’t a rare occurrence. He’d been calling it their apartment for about a year now, and he didn’t even look sheepish about it anymore. 

Percy was a permanent fixture in her life. She was determined to make it so. “It feels pretty permanent to me,” she said, quietly. 

He looked at her, and she looked back, for several long, long seconds, before he sighed and looked away. “Are you really going to demand I say it, dear?”

She sucked in a breath. And here it was. The other shoe, come to drop in between her and Percy. And he had seemed so perfect on paper: he loved her, he was getting good enough at Swedish that he didn’t ask her to translate anything at official dinners anymore, he looked great in a suit by her side, he could smile and wave with the best of them, and he seemed okay with the prospect of that being the rest of his life. So, what problem had been dug up? What was going to prevent Princess Annabeth from being with her prince charming?

“Say what?” If he had a problem with her choice of partner, if he had spent years getting buddy buddy with her, only to crush her dreams worse than before, then he had damn well better spell it out to her face. 

He had to know that Percy was it for her. He wasn’t that oblivious. So, it was all coming back around. He’d asked her, four of five years ago, if she intended to abdicate for true love. He was calling that marker in now. 

He was going to make her choose between Percy and her crown. 

No, worse, he was going to make her choose between Percy and letting her stepmother win. 

“When are you and Percy getting married?” 

And there it was. The ultimatum.

“Well…” Wait. “What?” 

He shrugged again, a touch self-conscious. “Well, dear, you are almost thirty, and while you are certainly young, I know you’ve talked about your plans for your future. And your… desire to secure succession for your descendants.” She felt herself go red at that statement. Though it wasn’t untrue, clearly. “I was just wondering if… now might be the proper time.” 

Well, that wasn’t the other shoe, that was a whole damn Louboutin store. “You want me to make Percy my consort?”

He frowned. “I thought you wanted to make Percy your consort.” 

“I do,” she said, “I do.” By all the gods, Greek and Norse and whatever the hell else there might be out there, did she want to.

“Well then, of course I want you to marry him. I like Percy. You know that.” Which she did. It wasn’t like he had hidden it. “And more than that, I know you love him. And he loves you, and what’s more, accepts you. Accepts all the wonderful parts of you.”

Oh, so that was the other shoe. She couldn’t even properly appreciate her father’s explicit and enthusiastic support of Percy, of her choices, of what she wanted to happen more than anything in the world. 

She groaned and put her head in her hands. 

“Dear, what’s wrong?”

“He hasn’t,” she mumbled into her palms. 

“What?”

“He hasn’t accepted all the parts of me.”

“Oh.” It was silent for a long moment, save for her father fiddling with his napkin. “That’s… Are you sure, dear?”

She looked up. “Huh?”

“Well, I only ask because he’s been such a good sport at dinners. And he was absolutely wonderful during the funeral and the coronation and with everything. I… is he really not on board with royal life?”

“No, no, he’s–we’ve talked about that. Quite a lot. He’s a better sport about,” she waved a hand, “all of that than I deserve.” 

That part was fine. It was just everything else that was the problem. 

“You deserve everything, dear,” her father said without a second's hesitation. “He is, as you say, a good sport, but I do not for a second think that he would be if it wasn’t for you. Trust me when I say, I know the difference between someone who loves the prince versus someone who loves the man. Percy loves you. I promise you dear. I promise you he does.” He took her hand across the table. “Nearly as much as I do.”  

And wasn’t that something. She could stop the feel of tears pooling in her eyes. Her father was staring at her, earnestness plain on his face. She had thought, not two minutes ago, that he meant to separate her from Percy, and he was proclaiming Percy’s love for her. 

Her father, her dad, the King of Sweden, wanted her to be happy and loved and the Queen. And he wanted her to marry Percy Jackson to make it happen. She blinked back the tears as best she could. 

It was not a totally successful endeavor. 

“I haven’t told Percy,” she said, finally, her voice barely more than a whisper. And, she realized a second later, not in Swedish. Or English. Nor her grade school French. She was speaking in ancient Greek. Wasn’t she lucky that Perseus’ name fit so well in this cursed language. “I haven’t told him about my mother, or about our ancestry, or any of it.” 

“I see,” her father said, his Greek not as natural as her, but clear and precise from many years of practice. “Well, do you think that will be a problem?”

“Of course it will be a problem. I have to tell him the gods are real. Like, the Greek gods. And the Norse gods!” 

He waved a hand. “He’s a classicist, I am sure he’s got passing familiarity with it. It isn’t as though you’ll need to worry about him not having paid attention to that lesson in school. I’m sure it will go fine.” 

“You really think so?” she asked, and for a split second, it was like she was back in that diner in California. Trusting her father to soothe her fears, and make it all better. 

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, squeezing her hand. “I think… I think he loves you, and that, to be honest, a royal life is a much bigger burden for him to have to deal with than marrying a demigod. It isn’t as though hydras will be attacking him during his calc finals. I do believe your mother to be far more formidable than the Riksdag, and significantly more beautiful,” he couldn’t help but add, and Annabeth chuckled. “But she could have no objection to Percy, nor your marriage, compared to any other mortal man. But the Riksdag will always want to butt in. He has put up with much worse than your mother. Or our Frey ancestors. And I believe he has shown he will continue to do so. This, all of this, is just a matter of belief. Nothing Percy has said has suggested to me that he’s particularly religious, anyway.” 

“No,” Annabeth conceded, “No, he’s not.” 

“So, I am sure–I am positive–that all will be well.” 

She swallowed a few times, just a little afraid to speak the hope in her chest. To give life to the little hearth in her heart. “I… I think he’ll be alright with it. If I can get him to believe. I think he’ll be able to accept it. To accept me.” 

Her father beamed at her. “And when are you going to tell him?”

“Soon,” she said. “I was thinking maybe in Athens, since we’ll be there together.” 

Her father let out a laugh. “Has this always been your plan?”

“Maybe not always,” she chuckled, “but… I have been thinking about it for a while. A couple of months, at least.” Or maybe a couple of years. “He really wants to get a gold in the Olympics. And this year, he’s the favorite.” 

“There is a long history of royalty competing in the Olympics, all over Europe. I think he could continue, if he doesn’t manage it this time. Though I am told his odds are very good.” 

She smiled at him. It was such a thoughtful thing to say. “He wants to win for team USA,” she said, “and I can’t really begrudge him that if he turns around and immediately devotes his life to Sweden, now can?” 

Her father laughed again. “I suppose not.” 

Her eyes still a little blurry, in her mind she conjured up the wonderful image of him and her in her–their–New York apartment, Percy smiling at her over their kitchen table, and her entire body was seized with a sudden, painful need. “I really, really want to marry him, Dad,” she whispered. 

“I know, dear.” 

“And after we get married, he’s going to be part of this–this machine. So I just have to be honest with him. And let him accomplish as many of his goals as I can.”

“So,” he said. “Athens, then.” 

“Yes.” 

“And you think he’ll propose after that?” 

That would be nice. “I don’t know if he’ll think it's alright, though.”

“Well,” he grinned, a little sheepish, “I may have, ah… cornered him a few months ago and informed him that it would be, so I don’t see why he wouldn’t.” 

“Dad!” She felt the blush coat her cheeks. 

“Honestly, you’ve given me some insight into what was taking him so long. But I do understand his desire to go for gold,” he said, stroking his chin. “If my father, or even Randolph, had prevented me from getting my PhD, or from pursuing some scholarship for a bit, well… I would be very cross indeed.” 

“He deserves it.” 

“He does,” he agreed. “Just as you deserve all those buildings in New York with your name on them.” 

And that’s what did it. She felt the tears fall out of her eyes. 

“I’m going to tell him,” she said, voice thick. “After he wins a gold medal, I’m going to tell him all about it.” 

“Or perhaps,” her father replied, with a sparkle in his eye, “you should tell him before, go up to the Parthenon, tell him about it, and help him pray to Athena and Nike for victory.” 

That… was not a bad idea. Perhaps the ritual nature of it would ease him into the idea. And he was, like her dad said, a classicist. He’d want to see the Parthenon. And she could get him VIP access. Maybe even private access, if she asked the right person. “And Poseidon, too, I think. He is sailing, after all.” Hopefully the lord of the ocean hadn’t heard all the shade Percy had been throwing his way recently. Of if he had, hopefully a sacrifice would soothe his ego.  

“And then, we can finally get through all the paperwork.” 

Annabeth blinked. “What paperwork?”

“All the paperwork I had drawn up to get your marriage approved,” he said. 

“Oh,” she grimaced.

“Sadly, other people will want to hear of it, too. But I promise, it is all just a formality. Just tell me when, and I’ll turn the crown Princess into the Crown Princess couple.” 

“You really think it will be alright?”

“I’m the king,” said her father, taking a sip of his beer. “Haven’t you heard? What I say, goes.” 

***

Luke whistled. “Dang.”

“So, you approve?”

“Dude, I don’t think anyone wouldn’t approve.” Luke said, holding the ring up for a better look. The large diamond at the center, square cut and aquamarine blue, perfectly reflected the light, casting glittering refractions all over his fingers. It was surrounded by diamonds so old that they’d been cut before that technology existed. They were framed by pearls, all natural, all saltwater, all perfect, and the shining platinum band which held them all was fit for a princess. Percy hoped.

“Great,” Percy said, “because I need you to create a paper trail that makes it look like I got this ring legally.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, clearly suppressing a grin that Percy knew would only be one of approval. “Did you not?”

“The diamonds came from wrecks that I scavenged. I had to take Hazel with me to make sure I’d gotten the right ones. It's basically looting.” He’d spent the last three years collecting these pearls. It was grueling work, but it was worth it. It was so worth it. 

“Hazel didn’t do the actual jewelry work, did she?” Luke asked, concerned. 

Percy shook his head. She normally wasn’t super comfortable with that, what with her propensity for accidental curses, and Percy would never have made her do that if she didn’t want to. “No, she wouldn’t even call the stuff in the ocean, she'd point it out, and then I’d have to go through rotting wood and rusted metal to get them. Tyson made it for me. And sourced the platinum.” And also designed it for him, with a little help from his harpy girlfriend. Tyson had blushed when he told Percy about it. “But she’s a princess. Some magazine or newspaper–not to mention all of the Internet–is going to want details about where they came from, and I need to explain it without using words like ‘magic’ and ‘Poseidon.’”

Luke turned the ring over, inspecting the underside of the gems. “I thought you were going to tell Annabeth before your proposal.”

He nodded. “I am, in Athens. But I’m not planning on announcing it to the world.”

“I don’t know, that might be kind of funny.”

“I feel like they’d take away my medals if I tell them I can control my boat with my mind. And the ocean, too.” Percy said, “And I would always take you down with me in that situation.”

Luke let his grin out, savage and unrepentant. “Fair. So, you need a place for it to have come from. I can make it look above board. Any other requests?”

“Could you not make it a blood diamond thing? I would love not to imply that.”

“Just looting, then?” he asked, handing the ring back.

Percy made a face, even as he carefully placed it back inside the velvet box. “Look, looting from ships that sank centuries ago for a few gems that would otherwise be lost, so my princess girlfriend can have an engagement ring worthy of her, is reasonable, I think. Over a century of controlling diamond markets, and using it to exploit colonialist populations is not. Having said that, though… Please don’t say I looted anything.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, with relief. And more than a little excitement. After months–years–of planning, it was almost time. He knew he wanted to marry her one normal Tuesday afternoon, as they sat together at Annabeth’s–their–kitchen table, laughing over something silly. Whenever he got cold feet, or felt like the royal life might be too much to handle, he cast his mind back to that beautiful, quiet moment, and reminded himself: no matter how weird and fucky it got, it was worth it. She was worth it all. 

“Anything for you cuz. And that princess.” He smiled, crooked and pleased. “Have you decided how you’re going to do it yet?”

“Not sure yet,” Percy admitted. “I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

“Your race?” 

“Oh, yeah, with that too.” 

Luke frowned. “That’s not what’s been preoccupying you?”

“I mean… it hasn’t… not been preoccupying me,” he said. “But… I’ve been distracted.” 

“With what?”

Percy sighed, sinking into the couch. “You said it. I have to tell her before I can propose to her.” 

Frowning with sympathy, Luke settled down next to him, crossing his arms. “You really think it's going to be a big deal?”

“Of course it's going to be a big deal. You think it won’t be a big deal?”

“No, just go up to her and say ‘the gods are real, like the greek gods, like the ones you learned about but weren't paying attention to.” 

“She likes mythology, she was probably paying attention.” 

“Well, it will be like when I explained things to your mom.” 

Percy snorted. “My mom was hired by Hermes. She knew about my dad. She knew all about everything. She didn’t need some nine year old loser giving her a Greek mythology tutorial.”

“Yeah, well this nine year old loser saved your life.” 

“Tell that to the snakes I strangled at age two.” 

Luke reached over and ruffled Percy’s hair. “Big three braggart.” 

“And proud of it.” 

It was weird being over here. He hadn’t stayed with Luke in New York for a year. Without meaning to, Annabeth’s apartment became home base. The doorman and housekeeper recognized him. He’d had to pack a bag to come over this weekend. But Luke had just short of begged him, saying that it was probably the last time they could do it. 

And frankly, Percy kind of hoped he was right.

“I wasn’t talking about the snakes,” Luke said. 

“No?”

“No, I was talking about our quest.”

Technically speaking, he and Luke had been on half a dozen little quests. But he could only be talking about one. “You did save me from Ladon,” said Percy, probably a little too nostalgic for a near-death experience. 

“I did,” Luke agreed, “on a quest you weren’t even supposed to be on.”

“Come on, you know you wanted me there.”

“Oh yeah, a ten year old hanger on was exactly what I wanted on my deadly quest.”

‘Stowaway’ might have been a more appropriate term, since Percy had hidden in the back seat of Luke’s car and only revealed himself once they had gotten past the George Washington Bridge. Luke, surprised, angry, and having missed the turn to detour North to the Tappan Zee bridge to take Percy back, begrudgingly decided that Percy could stay. Though he did make Percy call his mom and explain where he had gone.  

“What’s gotten you so nostalgic?” Percy asked. 

Pursing his lips, Luke was silent for a little while, determinedly staring up at the ceiling. “Can I be honest?” he said, eventually. 

“I don’t know, big ask for a son of Hermes.” He was expecting the throw pillow to the face, and he caught it.

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway. So for real, what’s up?”

“I think it’s the whole Athens thing,” said Luke, quietly. 

“The Olympics?”

“No. It’s more the where than the what. We’re going to the motherland.”

Percy paused and considered him. “I think it’s more the fatherland, for us.”

“Be serious.”

“I can‘t. If I am serious, I have to think about it. And then I get freaked out.” 

Luke frowned at him. “What are you freaked out about?”

“Take your pick: the ancient sea, deadly monsters, Zeus being upset at me on the way, not getting gold, Annabeth realizing that she’s too good for a crazy moron like me. I can go on.”

But Luke was undeterred. “Hey–you can kill a lousy monster and control the lousy ocean. Zeus knows the Olympics are for him, and we’re gonna burn a sacrifice and everything, I already have the AirBNB with the fire pit and grill booked.” He paused, took a deep breath, and clapped Percy in the shoulder, but he didn’t move his hand when he was done. “You could win this race with your eyes closed and hands tied behind your back. But that isn’t what you want. And so, you’re going to put your whole heart into it. And also your body. And it will probably go great, but–”

“It didn’t last time.” 

Luke narrowed his eyes, and then used the hand resting on Percy’s shoulder, brought it up and cuffed the side of his head.

“Ow!” 

“Dude, you know the world is full of Olympians who lost at the last second. And settled for silver. Or bronze. You also know that you have the power to make it so that doesn’t happen to you. You chose not to use that power last time.”

Rubbing his head, Percy pouted. “You think I should have cheated.” 

“I think that, given that you only failed to win last time because of supernatural interference, it isn’t really cheating.”

“No?”

“No! Look,” he said, the fire in his eyes blazing with the same kind of righteous indignation he had at sixteen, but without the sickly poison of almost giving himself over to a Titan, “our parents fuck us over. It’s like, their whole thing. They fuck over our mothers, then they fuck over us. But at the very least, they try to make up for it. It isn’t like some stupid fantasy movie where we aren’t allowed to use our powers for ourselves, or let mortals catch on. Mortals don’t notice, and we get to use our powers to balance the scales.” 

Percy raised an eyebrow. “You really think that’s how it works?”

“Sure. What, do you think that a child of Athena is cheating on a test by being really smart?” 

“...Probably not.” 

“Well, it's basically the same thing.”

“So you want me to cheat.” 

Luke shook his head. “No. I want you to forgive yourself if something goes wrong, if another monster attacks. And you choose to intervene, like I know you will, and you choose not to bring your full powers to bear. If you choose not to go for gold, know it is a choice you’re making. And it's okay.” 

That… helped. Something in Percy’s chest unwound a little. “There's always next time, is that it?”

“Not at all,” Luke said with a grin, “because come Tartarus or high water, you’re marrying your princess when this is over.” 

And that brought everything crashing back. “But what if she’s not okay about the demigod stuff?”

“The whole point of monarchy is ‘my bloodline is super special.’ Of course she’ll be cool about it.” 

“And if she is cool with the demigod shit, but says no when I propose?”

Luke stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you serious?” 

“What?”

“That might be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said in your life.”

“Hey!”

“She is obsessed with you. And in love with you. She has brought you to state dinners. You’ve waved at coronations. Of course she’ll say yes.” 

“Only the one coronation.” Percy felt the need to point out. 

Luke kicked him in the shin. He did not hold back.

[goldieghoulie]

Threads research (chapter 13)

As I work on Threads of Fate (think historical romance novel meets Ghost fanfic, set 1312-1318), I'm publishing the research I do for each chapter here

Caveat: I am not a historian, just a nerd.

Spoilers for Chapter 13 below the cut

The like Real History bits

While Isabel, Secondo, and the whole Ministry is obviously very made up, many of the events causing them to go to Varberg were very real.

Queen Isabel was the sister of Robert the Bruce who married a king of Norway. They did have a daughter together named Ingeborg. After Queen Isabel's husband died, the throne of Norway passed to his brother. This king also had a daughter named Ingeborg (named after the former, her cousin). These two Ingeborgs married the two brothers of the Swedish king.

In December of 1317 the king of Sweden invited his brothers to a banquet where he captured and imprisoned them. Eventually they starved to death. Sweden (I've struggled a bit to figure out exactly who was involved, but think more nobles than peasants) was not a fan of this and the king was ousted later in 1318. This caused the younger Ingeborg's son, Magnus (aged ~3), to become king, though his mother and aunt remained part of his regency government.

Varberg

So, from what I can tell, we do not actually have historical evidence for the Duchesses Ingeborg gathering at Varberg in March of 1318. We have evidence for them both being in Kalmar on April 16th to sign a treaty, but I couldn't find evidence for their locations before that. Thus ~artistic license~ says that they met up at Varberg.

Varberg is located in a strategic spot between Sweden, Denmark, and Norway. Indeed, it changed hands between the 3 kingdoms several times in the early 14th century. I did see mentions of Ingeborg, Duchess of Södermanland residing there (though again, whether that was before or after (or both) the meeting at Kalmar I'm uncertain)

As the fortress was heavily modified throughout the centuries, it's hard to fully understand the medieval layout. Below is a interpretation of what it may have looked like around the time that Threads is set. It's largely what I'm basing it on as I write.

Fashion

I've been finding the early 1300s a real challenge to research in regards to fashion. Most sources seem to hold that "fashion" itself started around 1330 or more towards the middle of the century. And, of course, there were many styles that people chose to wear. So while veils and other cloth head coverings were a thing, some of the fun medieval hats were starting to emerge.

Crispinette this fantastic post, and this were my sources. Which, if they are to be believed and the fashion reached England with Queen Isabella, she married Edward in 1308. So, by 1318 we can assume that it might have reached Scotland and Mary could be wearing it.

[otmaaromanovas]

i know this is a bit outside your purview but i was hoping you could help me - would you be able to recommend some memoirs of russian aristocrats from the imperial family's immediate circle who survived the revolution and settled in the west? something in the vein of felix yusupov or alexander mikhailovitch's memoirs, maybe? i'm interested in how they adjusted to the change in political and cultural circumstances. thanks in advance :)

Hello there!

Yes, I know of a few! I will also link you to Felix Yusupov and Alexander Mikhailovich’s memoirs, just in case you didn’t know they could be read online for free :) Where possible, I will include links to access them online for free.

Lost Splendour by Felix Yusupov

Once a Grand Duke by Alexander Mikhailovich

25 Chapters of my Life by Olga Alexandrovna - the later chapters detail how she, her husband, and two young children fled Russia

The Last Grand Duchess by Ian Vorres - a memoir written and based off interviews with Olga Alexandrovna, with quotes from her.

Vera by Paul Gilbert includes some memoirs by Vera Konstantinovna. The memoirs focus mostly on her childhood, but touch a little on the Revolution and her life in America after.

Memories of Russia, 1916-1919 by Princess Paley and John van der Kiste - more focus on the Revolution rather than settling elsewhere, but I hope it will be helpful!

Dancing in St. Petersburg by Mathilde Kschessinska - details her life as the first love of Nicholas II, her work as a Prima ballerina, her relationship with Grand Duke Andrei Vladimirovich. She and Andrei eventually fled Russia to France.

Not sure if this counts as he wasn’t Russian, but Tutor to the Tsarevich by Sydney Gibbes and J. C. Trewin details Gibbes’ life, including his fleeing to Asia and then to Oxford.

If you can speak French, this interview with Felix and Irina might be of interest to you. They talk mostly about Rasputin, but it does show their situation living outside of Russia.

Education of a Princess by Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna details her marriage to Duke of Södermanland, which saw her relocate to Sweden

These aren’t memoirs but instead secondary sources, but I thought I would include them in case they were valuable to you. Once a Grand Duchess: Xenia by John van der Kiste and Coryne Hall details Xenia’s escape from Russia and her adjustment to life in England living in Frogmore Cottage, using sources in the form of letters written by Xenia herself.

I hope that this was somehow helpful! Enjoy your reading :)

[theroyalfanzine]

Her Royal Highness Princess Estelle Silvia Ewa Mary of Sweden, The Duchess of  Östergötland (2012)

Princess Leonore Lilian Maria of Sweden, The Duchess of Gotland (2014)

Prince Nicolas Paul Gustaf of Sweden, The Duke of Ångermanland (2015)

His Royal Highness Prince Oscar Carl Olof of Sweden, The Duke of Skåne (2016)

Prince Alexander Erik Hubertus Bertil of Sweden, The Duke of Södermanland (2016)

Princess Adrienne Josephine Alice of Sweden, The Duchess of Blekinge (2018)

, Prince Julian Herbert Folke of Sweden,The Duke of Halland (2021)

[xasha777]

In the cosmic city of Neoterica, where celestial bodies waltzed in orchestrated harmony, there existed a being not of mere flesh but of stardust and legend. They called him Orion, the Paladin of the Moons. With hair as white as the light of a supernova and a gaze as piercing as the comets that streaked through the nebulae, he was a protector—fabled and feared.

Maria of the Palatinate, Duchess of Södermanland, had heard the whispers of this cosmic guardian. A historian and a noble, Maria lived not in the past that bore her title but in the future that whispered of untold possibilities. When the dark rifts opened, spewing forth creatures from beyond the void, it was to Orion that Maria turned.

With a determination that rivaled the pull of gravity, Maria sought the audience of the Paladin of the Moons. She voyaged across space-time, navigating the currents of cosmic winds in her star vessel, the Södermand, named in honor of her terrestrial title.

Upon reaching the moon of Neoterica, she found Orion, standing proud against the backdrop of a giant luminescent orb. His armor gleamed with the light of star forge, and his eyes showed the depth of black holes yet the warmth of a sun.

"Orion, Paladin of the Moons," Maria greeted, her voice echoing in the silence of the vacuum. "I seek your strength, for my world faces a peril from the darkness between the stars."

Orion's voice was a melody that resonated with the frequency of the cosmos. "Duchess Maria, your journey has been long. Speak, and let the stars be witness to our accord."

Maria explained how the rifts threatened her world, how the fabric of reality itself seemed to unravel. She spoke of the ancient archives of the Palatinate, which told of a union between realms, a bridge that could close the rifts. But it required a guardian of immense power and purity.

The Paladin listened, his eyes reflecting the chronicles of eons. "I will stand with you, Duchess. Together, we shall seal the rifts and restore the balance. For the stars guide me, and your history provides the map."

As they united, Maria brought forth an artifact from her lineage, a sigil embodying the strength of the Palatinate. Orion, with the might of the cosmos at his command, channeled his essence through the sigil. The rifts began to close, the creatures retreating into the shadows whence they came.

But the darkness was cunning. It lashed out, a final desperate strike to prevent its demise. The attack was fierce, threatening to consume both Maria and Orion. In that moment, Maria's courage did not falter, for she saw in Orion's eyes the unwavering resolve of countless millennia.

With a surge of light that outshone the stars, Orion repelled the darkness, sealing it away. The balance was restored, and the worlds were safe once more.

As they parted ways, Maria, Duchess of Södermanland, carried with her the legacy of an alliance forged in starlight, and Orion, the Paladin of the Moons, continued his eternal vigil, knowing that the cosmos were ever in flux.

Thus, the legend of Orion and Maria of the Palatinate spread across galaxies, a testament to the unyielding spirit of those who stand guard over the delicate dance of existence.

[empress-alexandra]

Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna of Russia (formerly  Duchess of Södermanland) wearing her aunt Grand Duchess Elizabeth Feodorovna of Russia’s famous emerald set, 1914.

[andiatas]

Queen Charlotta as a Princess by Alexander Roslin (oil on canvas, 1774)

Princess Hedvig Elisabet Charlotta married her cousin, Duke Karl, later King Karl XIII in 1809.

Queen Charlotta is known for her diary, which consisted of many fictitious letters between her and her friend Sofie Piper. Her diary contains political comments and detailed descriptions of life at the Royal Court. It was preserved for posterity, and was published in 1902. Her diary has proven a valuable source of material for historical research.

Queen Charlotta also founded Sweden's first school for deaf-mute pupils in Stockholm in 1809.

Photo: Nationalmuseum

[postcard-from-the-past]

Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna of Russia with her husband Prince Wilhelm, Duke of Södermanland and her cousin Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich of Russia

Swedish vintage postcard

[loiladadiani]

Prince Lennart Bernadotte, Count of Wisborg (born Prince Lennart, Duke of Smaland; 8 May 1909 – 21 December 2004) was a Swedish-German nobleman, landscaper, filmmaker, photographer and the son of Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna the Younger and Prince Wilhelm, Duke of Södermanland. He gave up his titles when he entered a morganatic marriage. Later in his life, he received nobiliary titles from Luxemburg.

When his parents divorced, Lennart stayed with his father and was raised in the Swedish court. He kept in touch with his mother, but contact was erratic and sometimes infrequent. Mother and son came together and really got to know each other toward the end of Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna's life and she lived her last few years on and off with him. (gcl)

Prince Lennart of Sweden, son of Maria Pavlovna the Younger [supersized].

[charlotte-of-wales]

Happy 46th birthday to Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden, Duchess of Västergötland!

Born on 14 July 1977, Victoria Ingrid Alice Désirée is the heir apparent to the Swedish throne, as the eldest child of King Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden. If she ascends to the throne, she would be Sweden's fourth queen regnant (after Margaret, Christina and Ulrika Eleonora) and the first since 1720. Her inheritance is secured by Sweden's 1979 Act of Succession, the first law in Western Europe to adopt royal absolute primogeniture.

She was baptised at the Royal Palace Church on 27 September 1977. Her godparents included Crown Prince Harald of Norway (later king of Norway), and Princess Beatrix of the Netherlands (later queen of the Netherlands, 1980–2013).

Victoria was made crown princess on 1 January 1980 by the 1979 amendment to the Act of Succession of 1810 (Successionsordningen). This constitutional amendment introduced absolute primogeniture, meaning that the throne would be inherited by the monarch's eldest child regardless of gender. Prior to this constitutional change, the heir apparent to the throne was her younger brother, Carl Philip. He is now fourth in line to the throne, behind Victoria and her children.

On 24 February 2009, it was confirmed that permission had been granted and that Victoria would marry Daniel Westling in the summer of 2010. The wedding date was set in Stockholm Cathedral for 19 June 2010, the 34th anniversary of her parents' marriage. The couple have two children: Princess Estelle Silvia Ewa Mary, Duchess of Östergötland (11) and Prince Oscar Carl Olof, Duke of Skåne (7)

Often referred to as the "Godmother of Europe", Crown Princess Victoria is the godmother of eighteen children including: Prince Constantine Alexios of Greece and Denmark; Catharina-Amalia, Princess of Orange; Princess Ingrid Alexandra of Norway; Prince Christian of Denmark; Princess Eléonore of Belgium; Princess Katharina of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha; Princess Leonore, Duchess of Gotland; and Prince Alexander, Duke of Södermanland.

Victoria has dyslexia, as do her father King Carl XVI Gustaf and her brother Prince Carl Philip, and prosopagnosia.