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#non daily tudors
minervacasterly · 1 year
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3 October 1568: Elizabeth of Valois, Queen Consort of Spain died.
Her daughters Catalina Michaela and Isabel Eugenia were her husband's favorite offspring and his letters to them still survives. Why is she important? She was best friends with Mary, Queen of Scots. The two grew up together, her brother Francois married Mary, uniting both crowns of France and Scotland until his early death which prompted the Scottish Queen to return to her homeland in 1561.
*And* she was first betrothed to Edward VI, King of England, Henry VIII's only surviving son. Dudley and co. favored a French alliance over an Imperial one and the marriage treaty was sealed in 1550, however the King's untimely death three years later undermined it.
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audreydoeskaren · 1 year
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Note about periodization
I am going to start describing time periods in Chinese history with European historical terms like medieval, Renaissance, early modern, Georgian and Victorian and so on, alongside the standard dynastic terms like Song, Ming and Qing I usually use. So like something about the Ming Dynasty I will tag Ming Dynasty and Renaissance. I already do it sometimes but not consistently. Here’s why.
A common criticism levied against this practice is that periodization is geographically specific and that it’s wrong and eurocentric to refer to, say, late Ming China as Renaissance China. It is a valid criticism, but in my experience the result of not using European periodization is that people default to ‘ancient’ when describing any period in Chinese history before the 20th century, which does conjure up specific images of European antiquity that do not align temporally with the Chinese period in question. I have talked about my issue with ‘ancient China’ before but I want to elaborate. People already consciously or subconsciously consider European periodizations of history to be universal, because of the legacy of colonialism and how eurocentric modern human culture generally is. By not using European historical terms for non-European places, people will simply think those places exist outside of history altogether, or at least exist within an early, primitive stage of European history. It’s a recipe for the denial of coevalness. I think there is a certain dangerous naivete among scholars who believe that if they refrain from using European periodization for non-European places, people will switch to the periodization appropriate for those places in question and challenge eurocentric history writing; in practice I’ve never seen it happen. The general public is not literate enough about history to do these conversions in situ. I have accumulated a fairly large pool of examples just from the number of people spamming ‘ancient China’ in my askbox despite repeatedly specifying the time periods I’m interested in (not antiquity!). If I say ‘Ming China’ instead of ‘Renaissance China’ people will take it as something on the same temporal plane as classical Greece instead of Tudor England. How many people would be surprised if I say that Emperor Qianlong of the Qing was a contemporary of George Washington and Frederick the Great? I’ve seen people talk about him as if he was some tribal leader in the time of Tacitus. European periodization is something I want to embrace ‘under erasure’ so to say, using something strategically for certain advantages while acknowledging its problems. Now there is a history of how the idea of ‘ancient China’ became so entrenched in popular media and I think it goes a bit deeper than just Orientalism, but that’s topic for another post. Right now I’m only concerned with my decision to add European periodization terms.
In order to compensate for the use of eurocentric periodization, I have carried out some experiments in the reverse direction in my daily life, by using Chinese reign years to describe European history. The responses are entertaining. I live in a Georgian tenement in the UK but I like to confuse friends and family by calling it a ‘Jiaqing era flat’. A friend of mine (Chinese) lives in an 1880s flat and she burst out in laughter when I called it ‘Guangxu era’, claiming that it sounded like something from court. But why is it funny? The temporal description is correct, the 1880s were indeed in the Guangxu era. And ‘Guangxu’ shouldn’t invoke royal imagery anymore than ‘Victorian’ (though said friend does indulge in more Qing court dramas than is probably healthy). It is because Chinese (and I’m sure many other non-white peoples) have been trained to believe that our histories are particular and distant, confined to a geographical location, and that they somehow cannot be mapped onto European history, which unfolded parallel to the history of the rest of the world, until we had been colonized. We have been taught that European history is history, but our history is ethnography.
It should also be noted that periodization for European history is not something essentialist and intrinsic either, period terms are created by historians and arbitrarily imposed onto the past to begin with. I was reading a book about medievalism studies and it talked about how the entire concept of the Middle Ages was manufactured in the Renaissance to create a temporal other for Europeans at the time to project undesired traits onto, to distance themselves from a supposedly ‘dark’ past. People living in the European Middle Ages likely did not think of themselves as living in a ‘middle’ age between something and something, so there is absolutely no natural basis for calling the period roughly between the 6th and 16th centuries ‘medieval’. Despite questionable origins, periodization of European history has become more or less standard in history writing throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, whereas around the same time colonial anthropological narratives framed non-European and non-white societies, including China, as existing outside of history altogether. Periodization of European history was geographically specific partially because it was conceived with Europe in mind and Europe only, since any other place may as well be in some primordial time.
Perhaps in the future there will develop global periodizations that consider how interconnected human history is. There probably are already attempts but they’re just not prominent enough to reach me yet. Until that point, I feel absolutely no moral baggage in describing, say, the Song Dynasty as ‘medieval’ because people in 12th century Europe did not think of themselves as ‘medieval’ either. I am the historian, I do whatever I want, basically.
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mihrsuri · 2 years
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for the writers' would you ever...hmmm...would you ever write the Triad as a modern AU? it'd be so interesting to see those dynamics and issues etc etc with a 20th/21st century monarchy!
I actually have written a bit of this! (I also have a not completed modern non royal AU that was kind of meant to be a in universe (Tudors OT3 Cinematic Universe) romance novel which one day I might even rework/change the names to make it more obviously in universe) The unofficial name is ‘fuck the daily mail’ and it’s if modern royal Henry was dating Thomas and Anne in our world, told in multimedia (tweets, article extracts, tv interview transcripts, instagram etc) and in little bits of fic.
(I made Thomas and Anne biracial and jewish. Thomas isn’t the modern equivalent of his position which would be…actually it probably would be Prime Minister which is a whole other AU. Anne is a human rights lawyer though).
It’s so much fun because I uh, have some royal feelings (especially some Meghan Markle feelings (I love her)).
ETA: the fic (inspired by @quillington in part)
ask me would you ever write?
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thesecrettimes · 1 year
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Jim Cramer Says Avoid Crypto, Stick With Gold for ‘Real Hedge’ Against Inflation and Economic Chaos
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The host of Mad Money, Jim Cramer, has advised investors to avoid crypto and stick with gold if they “seriously want a real hedge against inflation or economic chaos.” He added that bitcoin is too volatile to use as a currency. “Imagine business owners trying to conduct transactions with shares of Facebook or Google … it’s ridiculous,” he stressed.
Jim Cramer Prefers Gold to Crypto
The host of CNBC’s Mad Money show, Jim Cramer, gave some investment advice regarding gold and cryptocurrencies on Monday. Cramer is a former hedge fund manager who co-founded Thestreet.com, a financial news and literacy website. He believes that investors should stay away from cryptocurrencies despite bitcoin’s recent gains. Referencing charts interpreted by Decarley Trading’s senior commodity strategist and options broker, Carley Garner, Cramer emphasized that investors “need to ignore the crypto cheerleaders now that bitcoin’s bouncing.” He proceeded to advise: If you seriously want a real hedge against inflation or economic chaos, she says you should stick with gold. And I agree. Citing Garner, the Mad Money host explained that the correlation between bitcoin futures and the tech-heavy Nasdaq-100 is very high, as shown in their daily charts going back to March 2021. This indicates that bitcoin behaves more like a risky asset rather than a stable store of value or currency, Cramer claimed, elaborating: Imagine business owners trying to conduct transactions with shares of Facebook or Google … it’s ridiculous, they’re too volatile. Bitcoin is no different. Unlike Cramer, some people believe that bitcoin is a better hedge against inflation than gold, including venture capitalist Tim Draper and billionaire hedge fund manager Paul Tudor Jones. Cramer also cautioned about “counterparty risk,” the potential for the other party in a transaction or investment to not fulfill their obligations. “Of course, you can just own bitcoin directly in a decentralized wallet — that protects you from counterparty risk,” he opined. “But if you ever want to use it for anything, the risk is back on the table. And as FTX’s customers learned, it can be devastating.” The Mad Money host used to invest in bitcoin, ether, and non-fungible tokens (NFTs) but he sold all his crypto holdings last year. He used to recommend bitcoin alongside gold. In March 2021, he said: “I have, for years, said that you should have gold … but gold let me down. Gold is subject to too many vicissitudes. It’s subject to mining issues. It’s frankly subject to failing in many cases.” He has also repeatedly warned about the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) doing a “roundup” of uncompliant crypto firms, advising investors to get out of crypto now. “I wouldn’t touch crypto in a million years,” he stressed. Cramer often cited John Reed Stark, SEC’s former head of internet enforcement, who recently said a “regulatory onslaught is just beginning.” What do you think about Jim Cramer’s advice? Let us know in the comments section below. Read the full article
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snackerdoodle · 1 year
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Books Read in 2022
I almost lost my list of all the books I’ve read this year when my phone died in November, so I’m putting it here for safe keeping. I’ve read more books this year than I have since I started reliably keeping track, thanks in large part to all the audiobooks I’ve been listening to on my monster of a commute. Almost everything on this list is from the library because 💖 for the library always. If you’re nosy like I am, enjoy!
1/13 The Unspoken Name, AK Larkwood
1/17 The Last Graduate, Naomi Novik
1/27 The Secret Lives of Color, Kassia St Clair
2/2 A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking, T. Kingfisher 
2/10 Recovering from Emotionally Immature Parents, Lindsay C Gibson (this is her second book on this topic. If this piques your interest, I strongly recommend reading her more thorough first book “Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents” instead.)
3/4 American Indian Stories, Zitkala-Sa
3/23 The Thousand Eyes, AK Larkwood
3/24 The Traitor Baru Cormorant, Seth Dickinson
4/11 Where the Drowned Girls Go, Seanan McGuire
5/3 Rhythm of War, Brandon Sanderson
5/6 Caring for American Indian Objects: A Practical and Cultural Guide, Sherelyn Ogden (ed.)—skimmed parts not relevant to research for work.
5/9 The Unbroken, CL Clark
5/18 The Monster Baru Cormorant, Seth Dickinson
5/21 Le Petit Prince, Antoine de St. Exupéry
5/21 Fantômes, Raina Telgemeier
5/23 Barbe Bleue, Perrault (short story, audio in French)
5/27 Dark Tales, Shirley Jackson
5/30 La Peste, Albert Camus —audio, did NOT follow the plot at all. Required way more focus than I could do but I did listen to the whole thing. Understood the words etc in parts I could pay more attention to. 
6/6 German Word Booster, Vocabulearn
6/6 The Animals at Lockwood Manor, Jane Healey
6/9 Black Tudors, Miranda Kaufman
6/15 Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno-Garcia
6/21 Vol de Nuit, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry —also couldn’t follow the audiobook well. Same as Camus. I think same narrator too—he whispers and projects in turns so can’t hear half the time, and if anything happens while driving I completely stop paying attention then check back in. Will get non audio version sometime. 
6/27 The Heiress: The Revelations of Anne de Bourgh, Molly Greeley
7/6 Harry Potter à l’école des sorciers, JK Rowling (Don’t judge me too harshly—I’m at the mercy of what’s available in French at the library.)
7/14 The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee, David Treuer
7/25 Le Cerveau et la Musique, Michel Rochon (French Canadian audiobook—he spoke slower and because it is nonfiction didn’t whisper half the time so I could understand this one really well, yay!)
8/9 Gideon the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir
8/13 Nona the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir (ARC)
8/17 Harrow the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir
8/19 Crocodile on the Sandbank, Elizabeth Peters (I’m rereading this series for pure nostalgia. I do not recommend it if you haven’t already read it. There’s a lot of colonialism and period-accurate (Victorian) racism that isn’t interrogated as much as it could be, along with a kind of 1980s feminism that doesn’t read well now, imo. I would not like these if I had not read them in middle school, but as it stands, I have an unshakable if critical fondness for them.)
8/20 The Mummy Case, Elizabeth Peters
8/22 Lion in the Valley, Elizabeth Peters
9/2 Deeds of the Disturber, Elizabeth Peters
9/15 The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog, Elizabeth Peters
9/16 The Last Camel Died at Noon, Elizabeth Peters
10/4 Sacrées Sorcieres, Roald Dahl (translated into French)
10/8 The Hippopotamus Pool, Elizabeth Peters
10/14 The Ape Who Guards the Balance, Elizabeth Peters
10/20 The Guardian of the Horizon, Elizabeth Peters
10/26 Seeing a Large Cat, Elizabeth Peters
11/1 A River in the Sky, Elizabeth Peters
11/7 Dracula, Bram Stoker (through Dracula Daily)
11/8 The Rise and Fall of Ancient Egypt, Toby Wilkinson 
11/10 Awakenings, Oliver Sacks 11/15 The Curse of the Pharaohs, Elizabeth Peters 
11/19 Treasured: How Tutankhamen Shaped a Century, Christina Riggs
11/21 Germany Travel Guide, Lonely Planet
11/29 Witch Hat Atelier 1, Kamome Shirahama 
11/30 Egypt Travel Guide, Lonely Planet
12/2 Witch Hat Atelier 2, Kamome Shirahama
12/2 Witch Hat Atelier 3, Kamome Shirahama 
12/7 Legends and Lattes, Travis Baldree
12/19 The Story of Egypt, Joann Fletcher
12/22 The Goblin Emperor, Katherine Addison
12/23 The Book of Hygge, Louisa Thomsen Brits
12/23 The Tea Dragon Society, Katie O’Neill
12/23 Witch Hat Atelier 4, Kamome Shirahama
Gave up on:
The Jasmine Throne, Tasha Suri (Disappointing—I wanted to like this one)
Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox, Forthright (Simply awful—not for me at all. Recommended by the library because of the audiobook narrator and I could not get through it.)
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shop-cailey · 2 years
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DEAR - KOREA - 10TH - GENERATION -
ENGLISH - TWINNINGS - HEIR - MALE -
DRINKS - 9 CUPS - OF - TEA - DAILY - A -
WHAT - MANY SAID - WE - SHOULDN'T -
DO - ANGEL - CLUBS - ALL AGES AND -
BUFFET - 24/7 - FREE - MEMBERSHIP -
FREE - SINGERS - ONLY - BUT - DON'T -
DESPAIR - TOKYO - SCIENTISTS - SAY -
IF - U - CAN - TALK - U - CAN SING SO -
TAKE - SINGING - LESSONS - ANGELS -
GENDER - SEPARATE - AGE - RANGES -
SINGING - CONTESTS - SPORTS - AND -
MARTIAL - ARTS - COMPETITIONS WE -
ARE - ADDING - PALETTE - KNIFE YES -
PAINTING - IMPRESSIONIST - ART - XO -
CONTESTS - SING - 2 - AUDITION ALSO -
LOVE - SYNCHRONIZED DANCE - IN -
GROUPS - IN - POOLS - GYMNASTIC -
AND - ACROBATIC - COMPETITIONS -
COOKING - BAKING - CONTESTS AT -
BEAUTY - PAGEANTS - 2 B - CLUB -
AMBASSADORS - BOYS - ALSO XO -
ANGELS - ARE - ALSO - WE'RE - YES -
OFFERING RELOCATION SPECIALIST -
JOBS - LOVE - VOICES - OF - TOKYO -
FEMALES AS - CUSTOMER SERVICE -
SOOTHING - VOICES - WE'RE OFR'G -
SPEAKING VOICE - DEVELOPMENT -
WE - PAY - 500 BILLION - WON YEN -
2 X - PER - HOUR - TAX - PAID - OUR -
SALARIES - NOT - LONG - HRS - YES -
DAILY - AUTO - IS - OUR - FUTURE -
TIME - 2 - GO - SHOPPING - ALSO -
CREATING - ANIME - CONTESTS -
FASHION - SHOES - BAGS - YES -
DESIGN - COMPETITIONS ALSO -
ANGEL CLUBS - WE - STOP - FEAR -
MAKE - WHERE - WE - LIVE - FREE -
OF - CRIME - TONGUES REQUIRED -
SAINTS - CHURCH - OFFICIAL YES -
NON-DENOMINATIONAL CHURCH -
24/7 - FREE - BUFFET - WE HAVE -
NO - RELIGION - LEGAL - GUARDIANS -
OF - KIDS - AND - SENIORS - AS THEIR -
FAMILIES - LEAVE - THEM OR DEPART -
EARLIER - THEIR - NEW - EXTENDED -
FAMILY - SAME - GENDER - THUS WE -
OFFER - DECAFFEINATED TWINNINGS -
BREAKFAST - NEVER - ON - EMPTY -
STOMACH - ENGLISH - BREAKFAST -
TEA WITH - LOW FAT - MILK - ( A 2 ) -
AND - HONEY - 500 BILLION - WON -
TAX - PAID - PHOTO - VIDEO - THIS -
ANGEL - APP - SAY - '2 - HER -
MAJESTY - THE QUEEN' - WE -
START - THE - DAY WITH HER -
3:30P - SMALL - HAT - LEFT - SIDE -
CAKES - SWEETS - SANDWICHES & -
PHOTO - VIDEO - TAPE - SAYING - '2 -
HER - MAJESTY - THE QUEEN' - SO -
SEE - DIRECTLY - DEPOSITED - YES -
500 BILLION - WON - TAX PAID AND -
BUSINESS - TAILORED CLOTHES OR -
ROMANTIC - MATCHING - DRESSES -
500 BILLION - WON - 9 TUDOR ROSES -
BRING WITH - U - EACH - 500 BILLION -
WON - B 4 - GOING - 2 - BED - DRINK 3 -
TIMES - TWINNINGS - TEA - BUT - YES -
EARL - GRAY - AGAIN - 4 - THE NIGHT -
2 - HELP - U - SLEEP - HER - MAJESTY -
THE - QUEEN's - FAVORITE - DRINK - IS -
EARL - GRAY - DRINK - WITH - LEMON -
SLICE - AND - SPLENDA 0 CAL SUGAR -
3 TIMES - TEA - 500 BILLION - 5 TIMES -
WON - TAX PAID - HDG - BANKS - WILL -
HAVE - MANY - PROGRAMS - 4 ALL OF -
US - BABIES - KIDS - BOYS - GIRLS - KR -
ADULTS - SENIORS - AS - NON-ARMED -
OCCUPATIONS - NON-TEACHERS - YES -
NON-LANDLORDS - NON-PROPERTY KR -
MANAGERS - MANY - JOBS - WE'RE -
NOT - ALLOWING - LIKE STRIPPERS -
EXOTIC - DANCERS - NUDE MODELS -
MANY - JOBS - NOT - ACCEPTED BY -
HDG - BANKS - COMING - KOREA KR
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dailytudors · 3 years
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Flashback to fictional portrayals of Henry V + Katherine Valois marriage from film and TV based of Shakespeare’s play “Henry V”.
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beyondthecosmicvoid · 4 years
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Dune & The Tudors
The Beginning is a delicate time and to get to the heart of a story, one must know when a story truly begins ...
The Tudors first season began the opening with JRM (Henry VIII) telling the audience that you don't know the heart of the story until you get to the beginning. He's basically the Irulan of the series. Yet, The Tudors started the story way too late. While this worked for Irulan when immortalizing Muad'Dib, the same can't be said for Henry VIII.
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In spite of the major historical inaccuracies in the adaptations of Philippa Gregory's novels set during the wars of the roses and the early Tudor period, the series work as a better landscape to understand the Tudors since it's, as many historians have noted (including Tudor contemporaries), the wars of the roses that truly marks the beginning of the Tudor Dynasty.
I also recommend the old BBC miniseries from 1972, the Shadow of the Tower, that does a good job showing the beginning of the Tudors as the ruling House of England. However, it is a little farther back (a period that wasn't covered in TWP since the major focus was on the titular character, Elizabeth Woodville), when a thirteen year old expectant mother sought to seek refuge in her brother-in-law's lands. Her husband, Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond and the King's half brother, had perished. Previously, he had been held captive by Yorkist armies. At the time he was let go, he was so weak, he succumbed to the plague. Scared that the Duke of York's men would come for her, his pre-teen wife, Margaret Beaufort, now Countess Dowager, ran to Pembrokeshirw, Wales where Edmund's brother, Jasper Tudor, allocated her in Pembroke Castle. There, she gave birth to the boy whose dynasty and descendants changed the face of the Western Europe. She named her son Henry after his uncle, (who also happened to be Margaret's cousin) the Lancastrian King, Henry VI.
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Margaret's journey was similar to Jessica but filled with more perils. At thirteen, she couldn't stay a widow forever. She married two more times. Her second marriage was perhaps the happiest and the one which helped her and her son ingratiate themselves to the Yorkist regime. But following the restoration of Henry VI and his immediate fall and murder, Margaret once again found herself stuck between a wall and a hard place. With her second husband dead and Henry Tudor and his uncle Jasper forced into exile, Margaret decided to take the reins of their destinies. Henry would have to fend for himself with his uncle's guidance. She on the other hand, would have to negotiate her survival a new union that would be beneficial for all parties involved. Margaret Beaufort played her cards and once again, she dealt a winning blow.
To understand the Muad'Dib, Princess Irulan intelligently points out that no student of history can truly understand his reign until he or she looks at his arrival at Arrakis. It is in Arrakis, otherwise known as Dune, where his journey began which would result in his fateful meeting with the Fremen Chani, the Jihad he unleashed on the Known Universe, culminating with his son, the God Emperor Leto II. It's his rebirth as the hopping mouse of the deser and as Chani's Usul that also sees the introduction of other powerful and complicated beings like his sister, St Alia of the Knife.
Likewise, without going back to that moment in time when Margaret was wed to a man more than half her age and her subsequent pregnancy, one will never fully be able to understand the Tudors.
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Tudor Week - Day 6: Favourite Tudor Non Fiction Media/s (Documentary, Biography, Podcast etc)
The Hollow Crown: The Wars of the Roses and the Rise of the Tudors by Dan Jones
The fifteenth century experienced the longest and bloodiest series of civil wars in British history. The crown of England changed hands violently seven times as the great families of England fought to the death for power, majesty and the right to rule. Dan Jones completes his epic history of medieval England with a new book about the the Wars of the Roses - and describes how the Plantagenets, tore themselves apart and were finally replaced by the Tudors.
Uncrowned Queen: The Fateful Life of Margaret Beaufort, Tudor Matriarch by Nicola Tallis
The first comprehensive biography in three decades of Margaret Beaufort, the mother of the Tudor Dynasty.  Nicola Tallis’s gripping account of Margaret’s life, one that saw the final passing of the Middle Ages, is a true thriller, revealing the life of an extraordinarily ambitious and devoted woman who risked everything to ultimately found the Tudor dynasty. 
Winter King: Henry VII and the Dawn of Tudor England by Thomas Penn
In this remarkable book, Thomas Penn re-creates the story of the tragic, magnetic Henry VII.  Rich with drama and insight, Winter King is an astonishing story of pageantry, treachery, intrigue and incident--and the fraught, dangerous birth of Tudor England.
Elizabeth of York (Queenship and Power) by Arlene Naylor Okerlund
This book tells the story of the queen whose marriage to King Henry VII ended England’s Wars of the Roses and inaugurated the 118-year Tudor dynasty. Best known as the mother of Henry VIII and grandmother of Elizabeth I, this Queen Elizabeth contributed far beyond the act of giving birth to future monarchs. Her marriage to Henry VII unified the feuding houses of Lancaster and York, and her popularity with the people helped her husband survive rebellions that plagued his first decade of rule. Queen Elizabeth’s gracious manners and large family created a warm, convivial Court marked by a rather exceptional fondness between the royal couple. Her love for music, literature, and architecture also helped inspire England’s Renaissance.
Tudor: The Family Story by Leanda de Lisle
The Tudors are England’s most notorious royal family. But, as Leanda de Lisle’s gripping new history reveals, they are a family still more extraordinary than the one we thought we knew.Throughout the Tudor story, Leanda de Lisle emphasizes the supreme importance of achieving peace and stability in a violent and uncertain world, and of protecting and securing the bloodline.Tudor is bristling with religious and political intrigue but at heart is a thrilling story of one family’s determined and flamboyant ambition.
Six Wives: The Queens of Henry VIII by David Starkey
Six Wives is a masterful work of history that intimately examines the rituals of diplomacy, marriage, pregnancy, and religion that were part of daily life for women at the Tudor Court 
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itsrubberbisquit · 3 years
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My Heart Would Know (10/13)
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Summary: Hi.  I’m Liv.  I wrote a dumb fantasy book that no one read until some British dude pimped it on his IG and now I’m here.  In Atlanta at Dragon Con on my very own panel with hundreds of people watching.  And one of them sounds suspiciously familiar.
Chapter Summary: Liv learns how to live in a post-Henry Cavill world (spoiler it doesn’t really work as well as she’d like) and she goes on tour for her third book.
Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC
Word count: 4.7k
Warnings:  Pining?  Mildly bad language?  This is the least problematic chapter in the whole thing.
A/N:  Only a couple chapters to go.  Due to popular demand, I’ve got some companion chapters from Henry’s POV that I’ll put together sometime early next week to go along with the main story.  And then I think I’m going to write a Christmas story because I hate myself.
Tagging: @summersong69  .@omgkatinka​  .@rn7rocks​ .@introvertedmouse​ 
If you’d like a tag post a note or send me an ask.
Masterlist
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
When I finally crawled out of my hole on the roof of the Marriott, I expected to see him everywhere because he had infused himself in my weekend.  He wasn’t in that hallway where I’d pressed myself against him and accepted sex was imminent.  He wasn’t in the elevator or the lobby or waiting outside my door for me.  He wasn’t in my bed, lazy stretches pulling the bedding taunt against toned thighs.  My eyes traced the tightly made sheets and I huffed out a pained breath. What the fuck had I done?! I was such a fucking idiot.  
 I shook out my hands and turned from the scene of the crime.  There was an emptiness to the space, a hole with no Henry, that left me bereft.  It was making me seriously second guess my decision.
 This wasn’t Henry’s fault, after all.  
 My hand itched to reach for my phone but I held my fingers against my thigh.  The only thing he was innocent of was Rachel’s subterfuge.  He’d still taken what had amounted to a bribe and then had decided he had a crush on me.  A crush and here I was, pretty freaking certain I was half in love with him. No.  No, I wouldn’t call.
 I turned on some music instead and checked in with Tony.  My manager had already gotten Rachel’s story, obviously.  He’d been hired within a week of Henry’s post and hadn’t been privy to her actions.  When the chips fell, he sided with me and put a lawyer on dissolving my contract with Rachel. He also did the legwork on finding her replacement.  I hummed along while he detailed what would happen next.
 Still go to New York. Finish up the tour.  Regroup in Alberta.
 My heart clenched in agony.
 I wondered if Henry had left town already.  I watched Atlanta pass out the window.  I was too far from the airport and looking the wrong way to see planes taking off but if I thought hard enough my heart would break at the imagery.
 Henry was gone.  He had to be.
 I’d sent him away and he had left. It burned.  It burned in the pit of my stomach, bile rising at the emotional upheaval of the day.  It had started so well too with gentle kisses and his clever fingers making me see stars behind my eyes.  This crash was inevitable though and I hated past me in this moment.  Past me knew how much this was going to fucking hurt and did it anyway and now I had a broken heart to go along with my aching head. Sometimes I was the actual worst.
 I let out a heavy sigh and refocused on Tony.  He had me on a flight to NYC that afternoon and I thought we were at the point where I’d say good bye but his words drew me up short.  “And what about Cavill?  What do you want to do about him?”
 What was there to do?  It was over and he was gone and I’d be home soon enough to lick my wounds.  Ignore that all of this had happened, that I was half in love with an illusion.  “Do I need to do anything?”
 Tony hummed, his pen tapping on his desk in a whole other country.  “I’ve gotten some requests to confirm or deny you two are dating.  I can say nothing or I can say something. What do you want to do?”
 “We’re not dating.  We’re not together.  He left and before this whole cluster fuck I hadn’t thought about who he was since the last time I watched the Tudors-“,  I cut myself off because Tony and I didn’t talk about relationships.  He was my agent, not my friend.  His hum was soft, the tapping stopping.  
 “I’ll deny the rumors then. I can’t do anything about the ten grand in March thing but it looks like his people have mostly scrubbed that off the internet.”  For some reason that was immeasurably reassuring and I exhaled in relief.  “Now, that doesn’t mean it’s gone.  The internet never forgets but I think we can assume this will just be a strange blip that’ll pass soon.”
 My stomach and my heart didn’t agree with his assessment but with time everything would pass.  “Thanks Tony.  And, uh, I don’t really want to have to talk to Rachel again.  If you could-“
 “I’ll take care of that, you take care of yourself.”
 Everyone had a scandal right? I scoffed at myself as I threw the phone down on the bed.  Everyone had a scandal and mine was a 6’1” Adonis of a man who was a perfect, super soft birthday party and could bench press me for days.  I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms and tried to shut out the mental image.
 He had held me as I’d broken down, his touch soft and his words so perfect they made me want to cry even now.
 He had his hands and his mouth and his whole being in all my most private areas with such efficiency I’d be getting off for the rest of my life thinking about it.  That look in his eyes as he stared up at me from between my legs, a finger delicately teasing my soaking seam, would haunt me.  
 I was such a fucking idiot.
 My phone dinged again and my heart soared.  I wanted it to be him.  I wanted him to be asking to see me, to come to my room.  To come back to me.
 Tony had sent me a link to TMZ where they corrected the date as March, not January, and that I hadn’t paid Henry Cavill to fuck me but rather we had come about our relationship quite naturally.  And they implied we were probably still squirreled away in a hotel room in Atlanta.
 I sighed again, eyes skipping across the mess of my room.  I needed to get out of there.  I should pack.  I should pack and leave this place and never return and then I could begin to heal.  I had plenty of practice getting my heart broken. My feet whispered over the carpet and I collected my life into some semblance of normality.  
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-
 There was a weighted blanket, fresh from Amazon, sitting on my front porch when I got back from New York. No note.  I hadn’t ordered it but chalked it up to Tony looking after me. Or maybe Rachel attempting an apology. She’d texted a few times while I’d been in NYC, professionally asking for forgiveness.
 I’d gladly given it but I wasn’t interested in a relationship with her anymore.
 A migraine had been sitting between my eyes for days. I wrapped up in the blanket, feeling truly comfortable again for the first time since I’d crawled out of Henry’s arms that last morning.
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-
 My period showed up right on time, a week and a half post ATL.  I stared down at the blood between my thighs for a long time, hand cradling my lower belly with the same sort of familiarity that all women in their 30’s knew. That nervous feeling of maybe this time it’ll be different and I swear I wasn’t disappointed.
 I wasn’t.
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-
 A new notice from Tony popped up a few days later.  I was now Henry Cavill’s shortest public relationship according to the Daily Mail.
 The gossip rag celebrated our three whole days.  Yay, a new high score.  I laughed more than anything, scanning the non-sense with my breakfast.  The article mentioned he was about to go off to Hungary to start filming.  I idly wondered how much muscle he’d put on before I pushed the thought aside because I didn’t care.
 A knock at the door had me pulling on a sweater to bear the brunt of the cold.  A delivery driver confirmed my identity and then handed me a box.  I frowned but thanked him.  They were flowers.  For me.  Flowers at my door: a beautiful bouquet of lilies.  There was no note and this time I called Tony to ask about the gift.  He hadn’t sent any but he promised to look into it if I’d like.  
 I would like.  I would very much like.  The last thing I needed was an actual stalker after the non-sense in Atlanta.  When he got back to me a few hours later it was just to tell me not to worry about it. This made me worry even more.  I was far too deep in the final edits of the book for this so I called the flower shop myself.
 The flowers had been purchased online through PayPal with an email I didn’t recognize.  The phone number though had me furrowing my brow.  It was international: a London number.  I froze.
 I only knew one person in London.
 The shop girl asked if I’d like the number and I took it down with a shaky hand.  She was probably breaking some privacy laws but I’d known her since she was a baby and I’d be damned if she didn’t do as she was asked.
 I waffled with myself, hard, for a few minutes.  If Henry had sent the flowers, if he was reaching out, I should say thank you.  I should acknowledge it, right?  That would be the polite thing to do.  Except I hadn’t exactly made headway on reconciling my feelings towards him and it’d set me back weeks to open it all back up.
 I closed my eyes, drifting back to a couch in a suite in Atlanta.  Strong arms holding me as I unraveled.  Soft lips on my forehead, asking me what he could do for me.  I took the vase and set it in the window, the Alberta horizon in the background, and I snapped a photo.
 Me (17:33):  Thank you.
 I chewed the inside of my lip and stared at the message.  No one had paid him to give a fuck about how I was doing right then.  At least they better not have.
 My heart clenched when the phone buzzed in my hand with a response.  
 Unknown (17:34):  I’m sorry about the paps.  
 Fuck.  It was him.
 Call him.  Tap that number and push call.  You could hear his voice *right at that very moment*
 Three dots kept appearing, hovering for a few seconds, and then disappearing.  He was either typing me the longest message ever or couldn’t decide what else to say.  I didn’t call; I wasn’t in the right kind of head space that I could actually form works with my mouth.  I bit my lip and sent off a message.
 Me (17:36):  its okay.  No one in Canada really cares about me.  But thanks for the flowers anyway.  Lilies are my favorite.
 Unknown (17:36):  Good.  I’m happy.
 More dots.  I held my breath.
 Unknown (17:38):  I mean, you’re welcome.
 Me (17:38):  I miss you so fucking much-  
 Me (17:38):  I can’t sleep without seeing you everywhere-
 Me (17:39):  I hate that you made me fall in love with you and then let me down like every other person in my life I’ve cared about-
 I set my phone down on the counter, deleting each of these desperate sounding messages before sending them.  Henry didn’t need any of this either.
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-
 September bled into October with lots of hard work and not a lot of sleep.  My last round of edits finished with time to spare to my deadline. I was happy.  It was a fantastic continuation to Wars.  
 My heart still ached and my fingertips quested in the night for someone that wasn’t there, wouldn’t ever be there.  Henry didn’t text again and I didn’t either.
 Tony called me at the publishing deadline to double check that I didn’t have any last minute edits.  I thought about my dedication.  I could have written something sweet to my most famous fan.  It still stung, though.  I left everything the way it was and told him I was good to go.  The launch would be in a few weeks, right after Thanksgiving, in Toronto, and I was already mentally calculating what I’d bring.
 It would be a longish trip, five weeks, North America and then a quick pop over the pond.  Back by Christmas and then I could build myself a beaver dam to hide away in for the rest of the winter.
 Easy.
 I took a photo of the cover and put it up on IG with the back cover blurb.  A smile teased at the edge of my lips as I saw the likes pour in and then, another text.
 Unknown (9:44):  I preordered.  And I’m really really happy it’s not going to be delayed.
 I hiccupped the startled laugh out of my chest and then promptly had a coughing fit.  Of course he’d see it.  He’d followed me, months ago, and had never stopped.  I’d been extremely conscious of everything I’d posted since the first weekend of September but I never imagined he’d directly respond.
 Me (9:53):  I’ll sign it the next time I see you.
 My finger hovered over send but I couldn’t pull the trigger.  Couldn’t imply I’d ever have the chance to see his smile again in person or be blessed by his dulcet baritone.  I deleted the first message and sent a string of smiley faces.
 I was secretly a twelve year old girl incapable of dealing with her emotions.
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-  
 I let my cousins take me out to celebrate, driving all the way up to Calgary to watch the Flames play. Mikey took us down to the locker room after the game and I got a couple of selfies with Giordano, because of course I did.  We’d known Gio for years and it was always good to see the Captain.  The young bucks in the locker room were giving me speculative side eyes as I chatted with the players I knew.  Still stinking and sweaty from their game, I rolled my eyes and gave them head shakes.
 What even would I do with a 20-something after Hen?  They would never begin to compete with the naked gymnastics we’d shared.  I woke more days aching from the dreams than not and I knew it was going to be a while before I’d have a normal sleep schedule.  
 Despite my best efforts he still consumed much of my waking thoughts as well.
 Within 12 hours of sharing the photo with Gio, I got a notification that Henry had liked my post. He’d responded almost instantly to the photo of the book and I wondered if there was a particular reason for the delay. I looked at the photo again.  It was innocent: Gio’s arm around my shoulder with his head tipped into mine.  He’d been the rookie two years after Mikey and I’d played mom to that whole squad when I’d been in Edmonton for school.  
 A mystery.  An enigma.  He was probably busy.  He’d be in Hungary by now, eight hours ahead.  
 I wasn’t checking in.  That dumb article had mentioned he’d be there.
 I wasn’t checking.
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-
 The prerelease reviews for The Crimson Flag were good.
 That was a lie.
 The reviews were glowing which is what my face had been doing since Tony had given me the news a few days back.  The literary reviewers were exceptionally pleased with my development.
 Take that, broken heart.  You can’t keep me down.
 There were at least three characters who’d inherited traits from Henry or Kal during rewrites and I solemnly ignored them.  I especially ignored every time reviewers praised their roles in the next part of the story.
 I was reading the latest review in the Chicago Tribune while I enjoyed a quiet latte in Toronto.  The café was off the beaten path a bit, down by St. James Cathedral.  In the unseasonably warm early November I was taking my drink out on the patio.  The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and my hair was perfectly curled under my toque.
 I looked good and I felt good, sipping the beverage and listening to the sounds of the city.  This would be my first actual release party that had any kind of significance.  Since March (since Hen) my books had just continued to sell.  There were honest to god critics and press invited to the shindig that evening.
 I was going to have a shindig for my third novel and wasn’t that just every writer’s dream?
 My phone vibrated while I was looking for the bottom of my cup and I fished it out of my pocket.  Tony, reminding me I was meeting with the PA for my press tour shortly and could I not be late? I laughed and shot him a photo of myself in front of the café.  I was early, unusually so.  I could almost hear the muttered, “Good,” he’d probably given his phone.
 I was about to go back to my latte when a nervous voice to my right brought my attention to a man standing next to my table.  The stranger was tall, probably flirting with six foot, and lean muscled beneath the cabled sweater.  A toque covered most of his ash brown curls and his warm brown eyes looked immeasurably hopeful behind his glasses.  “Hey, Liv? I’m Audie.  I’m going to be assisting you on your tour.”
 His hand shake was firm and I resisted giving him a huge grin.  He was pretty hot.  And earnestly sweet.  He joined me at the table and we got to know each other over the course of fifteen minutes. Having a PA was different than having a publicist.  An assistant was there to make things happen when you weren’t looking.  A publicist was there to make sure everything you did looked good.  Audie was a recent U of Toronto graduate who was just getting his feet wet in the professional writing world.  He was also hopelessly, desperately in love with my books.
 “I mean, I don’t mean to, like, bring up bad memories or anything but I bought your book as soon as Henry talked about it on the Gram and then, like, just kept reading it over and over. No joke.  I joined all the facebook groups and I think I’m perfect to help you-”
 I held up a hand and waved him down.  “Easy there. You’ve already got the job, don’t worry.”  He was like an over excited puppy and I smiled wanly back at him as he continued to rant.  My heart had only skipped a few beats at the mention of Hen.  I was getting better.  Slowly but surely.
 In a lull in conversation I heard a deep bark and glanced around.  Unlike Atlanta, dogs were common here in Toronto so a few barks shouldn’t set my heart racing but the sound had been . . . familiar.   I kept my glance light and cursory.  I wasn’t looking for a specific dog, specifically not a huge and furry bear of immeasurable joy.  Absolutely not at all.  There were no Kal shaped creatures in the vicinity and my heart dropped a bit.  “Can I ask about it?  About . . . him?”
 I refocused on my PA tilted my head.  We should probably get that mess out of the way since he’d be following me around and I was still being asked about Henry from time to time.  “You get exactly two questions and then no more because I think we have a date with the Sun at 11, right?”
 He double checked the schedule he had in his binder then nodded.  “Yes.  The Sun at 11, then the Times at 12 and then lunch with the publisher for a photo op-“
 “Easy.  I can remember my schedule.  Just, don’t be nervous because then you’ll make me nervous.  Go ahead and ask about him.”
 He gave me a grin.  “Is he really as beautiful as everyone says he is?”
 I shook my head.  “No  He’s way hotter.”  I took the final sip of my latte.  He let out a deep groan of satisfaction and I knew I’d made his day.  He thought for a minute about his next question before giving me an almost sad smile.  “Tony said I shouldn’t bring it up because it was really shitty the way it happened but you guys . . . like, Atlanta was the only time you hooked up right?  I saw the photos and you two looked so comfortable together and I figure I should probably know at least that if-“
 This man just kept going. Forever and ever.  If I didn’t interrupt him he’d still be getting around to asking this question in a month.  “Yes, Audie. We hooked up in Atlanta.  It wasn’t planned.  There’s no contact between us now.”
 He looked crestfallen for me for all of three seconds before he picked himself right back up.  My jaw almost dropped as his quick turnaround. At least Tony had found me someone who could ground my increasing grumpiness.
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-!-
 Unknown (3:32):  I called a coworker Furst today on accident.  
 Unknown (3:32):  In case you were wondering how I liked the book.
 Unknown (3:32):  Thank you for not giving me any spoilers.  The first read through only took a few hours anyway.
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-!-
  “AUDUBON FRANKLIN ROSLIN, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE THIS INSTANT.”  My shouts rattled the mirror out in the hall, the sound echoing out my open door and down into the sitting area in our B&B.  In my hand, my phone shook.  What I was seeing was almost incomprehensible.  It couldn’t be him.  It just couldn’t-
 “You hollered?”  He was dressed for bed and I felt bad for two whole heartbeats.  Just two.
 “I need you to check the guest list again for tomorrow night.  See if there are any additions.”  His eyebrows crept high, running into his curls, at my request.  We were close to the end, finish line in sight, and he’d gotten his fair share of strange requests already.  This was a new level of odd.
 But, he shifted and nodded doing as requested.  I chewed on the corner of my lip as he scrolled and waited for . . . for what? I waited for him to tell me that the Daily News had it wrong and the strong and dashing man who was seen running with a giant dog in a Kensington park that morning wasn’t going to randomly show up at the last stop on my tour.
 Fuck but he looked good in those shorts.   I let my eyes linger on his thighs.  And his shoulders.  And his arms. He looked huge, even in comparison to what I remembered from Atlanta.  Which would make sense.  He’d been planning on putting on more muscle and it looked like he had-
 Audie’s hmm shot my eyes to his face.  Something was different.  That devious man must have wormed his way into the reception.  Dammit- “It looks like Smithson backed out.”  Audie gave me a glance over his phone.  “How did you know?”
 My heart dropped. Who gave a fuck about Smithson?  That old fart didn’t- I craned and tried to see Audie’s screen.  He freely showed me and I went over the names myself.  Henry Cavill wasn’t on the list.  He wasn’t on the guest list and I was losing my mind. I sagged backwards, letting gravity carry me to the wall next to my door.  
 What did it matter if he was in town?  Why would he- it wasn’t important.  “Hey. Keep your head up.  We get to go home in two short days.”  There was a strain in his voice I smiled fondly at.  He’d weathered the Canada leg just fine and had been doing great until we hit LA.  A bad round of food truck tacos had knocked him on his ass and he hadn’t had a chance to recover.  Now we were wrapping things up in London and he could probably see his own bed when he closed his eyes.
 Audie wasn’t enjoying our travels but I was having a blast.  The world was a much wider place than Alberta and I loved my homeland but . . . the past six weeks had been eye opening.  Much more so than the few cons I’d attended for Wars.  I waved my assistant off and shut the door behind him.  He needed his sleep and apparently I needed to obsessively check the news feeds for the man I wasn’t internet stalking.
 Except now I totally was.
 The pain of seeing his smile had lessened, allowing me to fully appreciate the downright nerdy things he shared with the world.  I’d scoured his Instagram, lost several evenings to interviews on YouTube, and even given into a few self-indulgent fantasies where I wasn’t such a morally upstanding person and had allowed him to whisk me off to wherever.
 They were fantasies because he’d never offered and I’d never accepted.  
 I was only moderately disappointed with my stalker-y actions but I told myself it was harmless.  The likelihood of us crossing paths again was minimal, no matter how many heartfelt messages I got at 3 AM.  
 He hadn’t posted anything about my book.  Even though he had enjoyed it, so he’d said.  Even though people had been asking him on socials.  He’d given the same line: that he was waiting for his signed copy before commenting.
 I’d had to double check that I hadn’t sent that dumb text back in October but I hadn’t.  That was just his humor.
 My phone dinged again, a final evening update from Audie.  Smithson and Franklin had both backed out.  I flopped back on my bed and silenced my phone.  Once I got home this would all disappear into memory and then I could . . . start the next book?  Focus on living the life I’d always wanted?  
 Stomach clenching with nerves, I readied myself for sleep and drifted off.  The image of Henry’s long stride mid-run burned on the back of my eyelids.
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-!-
 “Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats.”
 The British Fantasy Writer’s Guild did not fuck around when they threw a party, that was for sure.  I dodged yet another waiter as I attempted to retrieve my PA.  He was on the far side of the ball room, cornered by what looked like a very touchy woman in her mid-50’s.  The panic on his face was clear.
 Under normal circumstances, read as not wearing heels in a crowded room, I’d have been able to fetch him in a few seconds.  At the moment, however, I was in a traffic jam of elegant dresses and well cut suits.
 The Fantasy Guild’s annual reception was a high ticket event and Tony had been overjoyed to be able to bookend our trip with the party.  They were even going to mention me, up on the stage while they talked about the accomplishments of the year.  It was an honor, a privilege, and it allowed me to put on a slinky dress.
 I clutched my purse a little tighter, hiking the slightly trailing dress past my ankles, and tried to excuse myself through the crowd.  I could see how red Audie’s face was getting.  He was too polite to say no but that woman was almost assaulting him.
 The sequins on my fabric caught on something right as I was about to clear the last table on my way to my target and I swore.  Stopped, took a step back to relieve the tension, and looked to my side.  I’d brushed against a gentleman’s sleeve and his cufflink had worked its way into the material.  “Oh, sir, I’m so sorry.  I just-“
 I took the man’s hand, intent on gently extracting him without damaging my clothes.  There was a deep chuckle, right in my ear, as the gentleman turned to me.
 I froze.
 I knew that chuckle.  I knew that chuckle intimately and while I never thought I’d be hearing it in person again it was unmistakable.  Warm fingers clenched around mine and I looked up to find azure eyes watching me.  He looked desperately pleased to see me.
 Henry.
 “Hi.”  That voice, that cavalcade of different accents that sent shivers up my spine, was soft and so very very pleased.
 I blinked up at him owlishly and swallowed, hard.  “Well, fuck me.”
Next Chapter
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minervacasterly · 2 years
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"Through weakness of character, or naivety, or ineptness, Henry was not able to exercise control over men who were stronger, more experienced and, in actuality, more powerful than him. It is true that Henry was an adult who had been king for most of his life, or as long as he could remember. Temperamentally, he was not suited to kingship but, by an accident of birth, kingship had chosen him. There is no question that he was unaware of the problems this created, in an era when strong leadership was as essential in the council chamber and court corridors as it was on the battlefield. In recent years, Henry had taken advice and attempted to reassert himself; the crises of 1450–2 provoked him to a semblance of strong kingship, with great emotional cost. He was simply not sufficient to meet the challenges that followed, but the alternative was to abdicate his power, certainly resulting in his death and a long minority, which warring magnates would have been able to exploit further. Those historians who see Henry as failing to fulfil his duty miss the point that he was incapable of fulfilling that duty. He could not ‘simply exercise greater personal accountability’ because to do so was not a ‘simple’ matter. The ideal situation, for England, had been the period of the first Protectorate, with the royal family at a symbolic remove and a competent adult male in charge. Had Henry been able to ‘simply’ turn on effective kingship, no doubt he would have done so."
- HENRY VI & MARGARET OF ANJOU: A MARRIAGE OF UNEQUALS by Amy Licence
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mihrsuri · 2 years
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rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it. and then tag as many people as you have WIPs
Tagged by @theladyelizabeth <3 (this is one of my favourite memes)
I cannot tag that many people but off the top of my head (and only if you’d like to): @eurosthewanderer @jackironsides @ruffboijuliaburnsides @quillington @pearlsthatwereeyes
-Let Us Dream
-Into The Fire
-Witcher Hunger Games: Triss and her games + folding it in not the whole story + whump
-Witcher Narnia
-Witcher Tortall
-Fuck The Daily Mail
-Mine Alone AU
-Iphigenia before the epilogue
-Bandits kidnap Thomas on accident fic
-Tudors OT3 picture book
-Stitch In Time Ep
-13/Anne
-Actor Interviews
-Modern Tudor Royals Content
-Anne and Thomas are married first
-Fictional tumblr posts about various
-Ted Lasso Tudors
-A Queen Twice Over
-Dark Mirror
-Queen Of Blood
-Queen Askala I
-Restorationists
-Meet Cute On Set
-Make Better Choices Ozorne
-Ozorne Peace AU
-Ozorne POV
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aion-rsa · 3 years
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Industry Review: HBO Finance Drama is Softer-Hearted Than You’d Expect
https://ift.tt/2U9dMmo
In 2020, it’s hard to imagine a workplace that engenders less sympathy than the trading floor of a City bank. A puppy-kicking farm, perhaps? The Trump Campaign? Being asked to experience fellow-feeling for the people who choose to work in the gurgling bastard tank of corporate finance is a tall order. We all recognise City traders as the bad guys – to a one, rapacious, conscience-free, Patrick Bateman-alike monsters who’d sell their grandmother a bundle of toxic assets if it turned them a profit.
A viewer could be forgiven then, for approaching a drama about a cohort of graduate interns at a top London investment bank in a spirit of mean-hearted glee. What knobbers has the show lined up for us to loathe? Will it be all burning £50 notes in front of homeless people, doing bumps off the face of a Philippe Patek and high-fiving over sex workers’ backs, or just mostly that? We’ve seen The Apprentice. We know what enjoyable rage a pocket square and an Etonian accent can inspire. 
Well, forget about using Industry as fuel for your daily Two Minutes Hate. This show is no  Succession-like zoo of the morally corrupt. The ambitious young people killing themselves to land these coveted positions, it turns out, are human beings like the rest of us. Clever. Driven. Vulnerable. And – against your every instinct – easy to root for. 
That’s down to power, or a lack thereof. These kids (some Oxbridge graduates and Old Etonians, some bright sparks from elsewhere on the the class and geographical map) may have been on top of the pile at university, but at fictional setting Pierpoint Bank, they’re on the bottom rung. That makes them the comparative underdogs – a bundle of fresh-faced young potential you start off wanting to see running for the hills, and then quickly shift to wanting to see absolutely bossing it.
Quite how they absolutely boss it is a total mystery. Unless you’re already versed in the ways of the trading desk, none of Industry’s work scenes will make the slimmest slice of sense. Precisely no allowances are made to get the finance-thick viewer up to speed, which could be considered intellectually flattering, but is more likely down to the fact that it’s simply impossible to explain to civilians. You’ll have to watch the trading scenes like a dog watching a human conversation: Gibberish gibberish STRESSED VOICE gibberish gibberish HAPPY VOICE gibberish gibberish WALK?
Luckily for the financially challenged among us, there’s loads of sex and drug-taking in between the misbooked non-farm payroll errors, and that’s all very easy to understand.
Read more
TV
New British TV Series for 2020: BBC, ITV, Channel 4, Sky Dramas and More
By Louisa Mellor
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The Undoing Review (Spoiler-Free): Classy Thriller With An All-Star Cast
By Rosie Fletcher
Episode one is directed by Lena Dunham – whose Girls was clearly an influence on the tone. There’s mild satire amid the life-or-death trade deals and hedonist shagging, all built on a foundation of non-judgement at these young people who’ve chosen a career with rich financial reward but that places them under geological pressure. 
One reason for this show’s empathetic, if not quite apologist, approach to high finance and the young people who want to work there, is its autobiographical inspiration. Screenwriters Konrad Kay and Mickey Down met at Oxford University and worked in London investment banking after graduation. Down lasted a year and Kay lasted over three, but both emerged with a particular perspective on the rarefied environment and the stories it could tell. 
It’s an environment with striking and – as the writers tell it – natural diversity in ethnicity, nationality, sexuality, class and gender. Investment banks like to call themselves meritocracies. Be the best and earn your place. Industry prods usefully at that idea, exploring how far it does and doesn’t apply. It’s a naturalistic portrayal of the modern, competitive workplace with convincing texture. Even if you’ve never stepped foot on a trading floor, you’ve probably shared a Tube carriage or a pub smoking area with these people. They feel real.
Much of that is down to the cast of mostly newcomers, led capably by Myha’la Herrold as new American recruit Harper. Our main PoV character, she’s an outsider with some intrigue in her past, and an engaging, revealing relationship with her older mentor Eric (Ken Leung), the immigrant Roger Sterling of the piece.
Marisa Abela does terrific work as Yasmin, who lives rent-free in Notting Hill in her one of her non-dom parents’ London properties and therefore has a great deal of ground to make up in the goodwill stakes. Yasmin is precisely the kind of character whose ‘How I Spend It’ money diary would inspire rage on Twitter, but after four episodes, I like her and – thanks to the writers and Abela – might even understand her. 
Harry Lawtey plays Robert, “a whole snack” according to Harper and Yasmin. Even he, the Prince of Canary Wharf, has vulnerabilities in the form of his cheap suits and estuary vowels. David Jonsson plays Gus, who’s written his life plan on the inside cover of a copy of Thackeray’s Vanity Fair. Informer’s Nabhaan Rizwan plays Hari, who’s desperate to seem keen and buys in to the whole 24-hr desk, sleep is for wimps toxicity. Rounding out the cast in supporting roles are Humans’ Will Tudor and Skins’ Freya Mavor. It’s a good ensemble, think Skins meets This Life.
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Get past the technical language in the first episode (engage your dog-brain), and what’s left is an appealing character drama about timeless themes – youth, ambition, sex, relationships and status. It wins you over. By the end of episode four, you might even start thinking that… greed is good?
Industry starts on HBO on Monday the 9th and on BBC Two on Tuesday the 10th of November.
The post Industry Review: HBO Finance Drama is Softer-Hearted Than You’d Expect appeared first on Den of Geek.
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dailytudors · 4 years
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Stain glass windows at York Minster depicting Richard III and his royal arms, the white boar, with his motto "Loyalty me lie".
Richard died on this day on the 22nd of August 1485. He was the last of the Plantagenet and Yorkist dynasty, and the last English King to die in battle.
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beyondthecosmicvoid · 4 years
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Beyond Prophecy: The Tudor Dragon & the Atreides Hawk 
Denis Villeneuve's Dune Movie promises to be near-faithful adaptation of the book series by legendary author, Frank Herbert. Already, the trailer and promotional photos have shown us a glimpse of what we can expect from this adaptation. For one, there is an emphasis on the Atreides flag. Although the background in which is shown is dark, we can clearly make out a hawk on a green and black bacground. This closely resembles the Cadwalldr banner Henry Tudor (Henry VII) that he used when he landed on Milford Haven on August 1485, with the intention to challenge Richard for his crown.
*SLIGHT SPOILERS AHEAD!* The first part of #Dune, deals with the decline of House Atreides. Much like House Lancaster in the wars of the roses, it is game over. Paul is considered the last scion and as a result, the Harkonnens, the Imperial House of Corrino and the Bene Gesserit themselves, are in a race against time to finish him off. It is his mother with all her Bene Gesserit training (played in the Villleneuve's film by Rebecca Ferguson who played Elizabeth Woodville in "The White Queen", a historical fantasy set during the wars of the roses) and her undying devotion for this perfect being she created, that saves him. Without the tenets of her faith, and everything else she taught him, Paul would not have made it that far into the desert nor convinced the Fremen to take (both) him and his mother.Historical buffs can see the similarities between this story and that of Margaret Beaufort and her only child, Henry Tudor.
Unlike Paul though, Henry Tudor was not considered the last scion of Lancaster until all of the members from its royal branch had been wiped out. Henry inherited his right to the throne though his mother who happened to descend from the eldest son of John of Gaunt's third marriage to Kathryn Swynford. Due to his Beaufort offspring born BEFORE his marriage to their mother, they were excluded by their half-brother, the first Lancastrian King, Henry IV (even though they had previously been legitimized by his predecessor, Richard II in 1399). Nevertheless, they remained a menace to the two royal branches of the Plantagenet Dynasty, especially the House of York. It should come to no surprise then, why, after the obliteration of Henry VI and his line, an effort was made to lure the teenager back into England.
Frank Herbert was with history and the endless cycle in which it repeats itself. The similar motiffs, and devices that many prophetic leaders and rulers used to climb up the royal ladder. Henry wasn't the first -nor he'd be the last English King- to use the element of prophecy and divine ancestry to gain unlikely allies. The first King from the House of York, Edward IV, also used the element of prophecy and divine providence early on. He used Welsh motiffs, claiming that his Welsh ancestry can be traced back all the way to King Arthur Pendragon himself! Then, at the battle of Mortimer Cross, with the illusion of three sons shown in the sky, his armies were reinvigorated against the enemy, believing that this was God's way of telling them that the Father, Son and Holy Ghost was with them, and that they also represented the three remaining sons of the slain Duke of York.
Henry did not need any image in the sky to get people to come over to his side. The resentment against Richard III was enough to convince his English allies that he would bring about everything they hoped for. When it came to his Welsh allies, his half Welsh background through his father (Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond) and his uncle, Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, helped. Before Henry was born, his grandfather, father and uncle had gained significant allies in Wales. Edmund and Jasper's titles added more to that. When thirteen-year old Margaret Beaufort was pregnant with Henry, songs were sung about an ancient prophecy that from an ancient Welsh line a royal savior would come who'd rule all the Isles. Despite the English having appropriated the Arthurian myth centuries before, he was still a revered figure there. Unsurprisingly, many English Kings, claimed to be his descendants or their spiritual successors. So when Henry did the same thing, it was nothing out of the ordinary. But due to his half-Welsh ancestry, more people there believed it. And he also went a step further, using old prophecies associated with him and his family, to claim that he was the savior and king of legend who would bring about a golden age. Henry's chosen banner is today the Welsh flag: the red dragon of Cadwalldr on a field of black and green.
Atreides and Tudor's use of winged animals can also be seen as a reflection of their respective Houses. While the Atreides flag is a earl animal and the Tudor flag is a fantastical beast, both symbolize how these two houses will take the world (or in the case of Dune, the known universe) by storm.
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