#yes Elizabeth was without a doubt considered too low-born to be queen

[wonder-worker]

people really do not know what they're talking about when it comes to Elizabeth Woodville's social status, huh?

#yes Elizabeth was without a doubt considered too low-born to be queen #no she was not a commoner and nobody actually called her that during her life (so I'm not sure why people are claiming that they did?) #Elizabeth's social status was not a problem in itself; it was a problem in the context of queenship and marrying into royalty #Context is important in this and for literally everything else when it comes to analyzing history. Any discussion is worthless without it. #obviously pop culture-esque articles claiming that she was 'a commoner who captured the king's heart' are wrong; she wasn't #But emphasizing that ACTUALLY she was part of the gentry with a well-born mother and just leaving it at that as some sort of “GOTCHA!” #is equally if not more irresponsible and entirely irrelevant to discussions of the actual time period we're studying. #Elizabeth *was* considered unworthy and unacceptable as queen precisely because of her lower social status #her father and brother had literally been derided as social-climbers by Salisbury Warwick and Edward himself just a few years earlier #the Woodvilles' marriage prospects clearly reflected their status (and 'place') in society: EW herself had first married a knight and all #siblings married within the gentry to people of a similar status. compare that to the prestigious marriages arranged after EW became queen #Elizabeth having a lower social status was not 'created' by propaganda against her; it fueled and shaped propaganda against her #that's a huge huge difference; it's irresponsible and silly to conflate the two as I've seen a recent tumblr post cavalierly do #like I said she was considered too low-born to be queen long before any of the propaganda Warwick Clarence or Richard put out against her #and the fact that Elizabeth was targeted on the basis of her social status was in itself novel and unprecedented #no queen before her was ever targeted in such a manner; Clearly Elizabeth was considered notably 'different' in that regard #(and was quite literally framed as the enemy and destroyer of 'the old royal blood of this realm' and all its actual 'inheritors' like..) #ngl this sort of discussion always leaves a bad taste in my mouth #because it's not like England and France (et all) are at war or consider each other mortal enemies in the 21st century #both are in fact western european imperialistic nations who've been nothing but a blight to the rest of the world including my own country #yet academic historians clearly have no problem contextualizing the xenophobia that medieval foreign queens faced as products of their time #and sympathizing with them accordingly (Eleanor of Provence; Joan of Navarre; Margaret of Anjou; etc)(at least by their own historians) #Nor were foreign queens the “worst” targets of xenophobia: that was their attendants or in times of war commoners or soldiers #who actually had to bear the brunt of English aggression #queens were ultimately protected and guaranteed at least a veneer of dignity and respect because of their royal status #yet once again historians and people have no problem contextualizing and understanding their difficulties regardless of all this #so what is the problem with contextualizing the classism *Elizabeth* faced and understanding *her* difficulties? #why is the prejudice against her constantly diminished & downplayed? (Ive never even seen any historian directly refer to it as 'classism') #after all it was *Elizabeth* who was more vulnerable than any queen before her due to her lack of powerful foreign or national support #and Elizabeth who faced a form of propaganda distinctly unprecedented for queens. it SHOULD be emphasized more.

[aewriting]

Loathly - Chapter 5

Here is Chapter 5 of my “Sir Gawain and the Dame Ragnell” Malex AU.

Here are all parts on AO3.

Warning for ageism, sexism, homophobia.

***

“Woman?” Flint says loudly. “More stew!”

Alex eyes the Lady Guerin. She doesn’t even pause, simply sets down her own bowl, gathers her skirts, and wordlessly takes Flint’s empty bowl and ladles another serving of stew into it. “My lord,” she says quietly, obediently, as Flint accepts it. Jesse is looking on approvingly, and Alex exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.  Lady Guerin is being… surprisingly submissive lately, ever since her conversation with Alex about Jelnos. To be sure, she is still herself with Alex – sharp, witty, opinionated. But with his brothers and father… Perhaps hearing about Kyle’s fate had impressed upon her the depths of his father’s hatred.

Alex watches as the Lady Guerin resettles herself on the log she is using as a seat.  She doesn’t reach for her bowl.  “My king,” she says, voice hesitant and soft, and Alex freezes. “Have I permission to ask a question?”

Jesse’s mouth twitches, and for a moment, Alex thinks he is going to deny her. “I’ll allow it,” he finally says.

Lady Guerin dips her head low. “Oh thank you, my king,” she says, sounding genuinely grateful.  Alex’s eyes narrow. “I feel blessed by the gods to have played some small part in assisting you with King Noah.  I hardly dare ask anything more, but I must know, when can I expect to wed Sir Alex?”

“Eager, are you?”

A convincing blush appears on the woman’s face.  “He has been most attentive, my king, even in the midst of this unusual situation.  There are some who would find it unseemly for a woman to be traveling, alone, with a group of male companions.  A quick marriage would surely silence any wagging tongues.”

Jesse huffs a bit.  “I don’t know that I share your concern, my lady, given that the parties in question are you,” Alex hears the note of distaste, “and my son Alex. But I am eager to resolve our bargain.  We shall hold a small gathering the evening after our return. One of our clergy will perform the ceremony at the castle.  No need for a spectacle.”

The woman’s face scrunches up in concern.  “That… is unfortunate.”

Jesse’s frame goes rigid. “You dare to question me?”

The woman’s brow furrows. She looks regretful.  “It is not… not a question, my king, simply an observation. It has been such a busy time for you, and I am so unused to being in the presence of such greatness.  I may not have spoken with proper clarity earlier, when I informed you that King Noah had, prior to you besting him, boasted about your impending death to all who would hear it.” She bites her lip.  “You, of course, are all-powerful within your realm, and I heard nary a word of your troubles with King Noah inside Unidos. But over the border, in Antar…” she trails off.  “The rumors there… by the gods, the things I heard were far worse than what actually transpired!” She sighs. “And I can only imagine what King Noah has told his allies.”

Jesse’s gaze is hard as he considers her.  “You clearly have your own ideas about this matter, so what do you suggest?”

“A feast.  A grand display. An opportunity to present the truth, to your people and to all the kingdoms in the land.  Let it be known, far and wide, that King Manes of Unidos has bested Antar. It was your own cunning that allowed you to discern the correct answer, of the many you received. You needn’t have trusted me, but you did,” she says.  “That was a decision borne of your own wisdom.” Her gaze drops. “I know what I am. I am no prize, especially for a royal son.  But what a statement it would make, for all to know that your son had such love for you, such loyalty that he would marry a woman of my station, my appearance, just because it pleased you, my king.”  She raises those amber eyes now, and the effect is striking.  “Let your kingdom, and all kingdoms, know your power.”

Alex is stock-still, eyes darting from his father to the woman and back.  

Jesse eyes her, a glint in his eye. “King Noah… he has spoken poorly of me? Of my cunning, my strength?”

The woman gives a shuddery little sigh.  “He has spoken abominably, my king.”

Jesse nods, a tight little motion. “That cannot stand.” He pauses. “We shall have a feast. A grand banquet with all of our allies.  I want everyone to see me in my power, to know that I have bested King Noah of Antar in a battle of wits.” His smile goes hard. “It will also ensure that my youngest son be properly and publicly recognized for his life-long commitment to you, my dear woman.”  He emphasizes the last word as his gaze slides to Alex.

Alex steadily meets his father’s gaze, nods in submission.  Jesse smiles.

***

They’ve ridden about a mile when Alex finally speaks.  “You said you wouldn’t lie.”

He hears the woman scoff. “I said I wouldn’t lie to you,” she says, matter-of-factly.  “I believe it is a matter of survival that I lie to your father and brothers. Fools that they are…” she mutters.

“My brothers, I will give you. But my father…” Alex says, voice tight.

“Are, are you cross?” asks the Lady Guerin, gently squeezing Alex’s shoulder.  

Alex sighs. “Not… not cross, just confused.  Why would you want a large wedding?  Nothing about you that I have seen so far would lead me to believe that you desire such a display.”

“I wish for my protection to be public knowledge. I have seen the way your brothers look at me.  Your father.  Frankly, I am relieved to still be part of this journey.”

Alex shifted uncomfortably, thinking back to his earlier conversation with Flint. “You said you had troubles with King Noah.”

“Yes.”

Alex bit his lip.  “You don’t… don’t have designs on the crown, do you? Of Unidos or Antar?”

The woman chuckles.  “By the gods, no. I am but one woman, and King Noah is very powerful.  And Unidos, well… I would not move against your father or brothers.” She pauses. “Unless you desired it.”

Alex huffs a breath. “Of course not.”

“Of course not,” the woman repeats.  “My other reason for having a large, public celebration of our marriage is for you, Sir Alex. Your allies, even your enemies, they know the sort of ruler your father is. The sort of man. But you… I want to show them that you are different.”

“How?”

Alex can feel the woman shrug. “You are marrying me. Willingly. Without disgust or embarrassment. I told your father that such an action would reflect well on him, and to some it may.  But for most, I believe that the favor will fall on you.”

“Why… why does such a thing matter to you, my lady?”

Her hand twists in his cloak, grasps at him.  “You are good, Sir Alex.  I… I was not expecting that.  You are a good man, and that deserves recognition.” Lady Guerin’s voice is unsteady with emotion. She seems to realize how tightly she is holding onto Alex, and eases her grip. “And if I am about to join the royal family of Unidos, I want to be able to learn more about the world I will inhabit.  Who attends a feast only out of obligation?  Who jostles for attention?  That sort of thing.”

“My lady,” Alex says with a light laugh, “I fear you may be too cunning for your own well-being, at times.”

He feels the woman lean back a bit. “And does that displease you, my cunning?”

Alex shakes his head and reaches up to give the woman’s hand a light squeeze.  “No, not of itself.  I… I value your cunning. You have a way of… extracting what you want that is truly a talent.  I just worry about my father. He does not favor you.”

“Has he ever favored a woman, or anyone that he could not totally control?”

Alex is silent.

“If it makes you feel better, Sir Alex,” says the woman softly.  “I do not intend to be in his crosshairs for long.”

***

They are nearing Unidos. Once there, Alex knows there will be much business to attend to, and he realizes that he will actually miss the constant company of the Lady Guerin.  With her, he finds that he can speak freely, about nearly any topic.  She listens to him, but not in a submissive way, or in a manipulative manner, as with the courtiers. No, she seems to be genuinely interested in his ideas, his opinions, and ready to speak of her own, too, even when she disagrees with Alex.  

His father informed him yesterday of his intent to conduct the wedding ceremony as soon as possible. Alex knows that his father sees this as a form of control for Alex, and cannot possibly comprehend that Alex actually… likes the Lady Guerin.  Not, not as a marriage should be, he thinks, but he could have never had such a union anyway, not in Unidos.  No, if he must marry a woman, the Lady Guerin is as fine a match as any.  His father, for whom women play one of three roles - broodmare, political pawn, or pleasure object – could never understand such an arrangement.

Alex and the Lady Guerin are talking politics, at the moment.

“Who do you think will attend the wedding? Who will be invited?” she’d asked, miles ago, and it had helped the time pass, with Alex telling her at length about the various alliances and rivalries within the kingdoms.  

“King Elios will come,” Alex says, distaste evident.  “He and my father are cut from the same cloth.”

“Along with King Bartos,” the woman says, note of bitterness in her voice.

Alex pauses.  “He… I doubt that he will make the journey, given his state.”

“His state?” the woman says, sharply.

“Yes. Since the accident, he has rarely been seen in public.  His wife, the Queen Elizabeth, has assumed his duties, and I daresay the Tamarin Isles have been all the better for it.”

The woman exhales slowly.  “I don’t doubt it.  I was unaware that there had been an accident, that Queen Elizabeth was in power. Anyone would be better than Bartos, that brute.”

“You don’t know the half,” Alex says, darkly.  “Queen Elizabeth… she is my cousin.  She grew up here, as Lady Elizabeth, in Unidos with me.”

“A beauty, I have heard.”

“Oh yes,” Alex affirms.  “But not just that.  Clever.  So smart.”

“I… I have heard that, too,” the lady murmurs, almost fondly.

“My father never liked that much.” Alex pauses.  “Tried to block her from accessing the palace libraries, shadowing the royal physicians…” He smiles at the memory.  “I was her accomplice.” The smile fades, replaced by something hard and bitter. “She was fourteen when father arranged the match with Bartos. Everyone knew of his reputation.” Alex’s jaw tightens. “I am glad of his fate – is that awful?”

“What, what did happen to him, exactly?” the woman asks, curious.

“It is a queer thing,” Alex says, “for they say it was a clear night. He was struck down. By lightning.”

#my fic #malex #roswell nm #sir gawain and the dame ragnell au