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mary-tudor · 4 years

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“Louis Auguste was the fourth child and second surviving son of Louis XV's eldest son, the Dauphin Louis of France and his second wife Maria Josepha of Saxony, who was affectionately known as 'Pepa'. The royal couple had been considered unusual at Versailles for their domestic harmony and frank and open adoration of each other in a court where it was considered bad form to be openly affectionate towards one's spouse.

The Dauphin was a complicated character: he wrote to a friend that his soul was 'always gay' and indeed there was a liveliness and cheerfulness about him that made his company much sought after. However, he had also inherited the morbid nature of his parents Louis XV and his devout Polish wife Marie Leszczynska and was obsessed with death and dying, much as his cousin Isabella of Parma had been during her time in Vienna. His mother kept the skull of the delightful courtesan Ninon de Lenclos on her desk, garlanded with flowers (....). She called it 'Ma chère mignonne'.

It is recorded that in the early days of their marriage, the young Saxony princess Maria Josepha had been horrified to witness her new husband and his sisters spending evenings dressed in black and walking slowly around a dim candlelit room murmuring 'I am dead, I am dead, I am dead' in a continuation of a favourite game from childhood. It all seemed a bit weird and unacceptably morbid to a young princess who adored dancing, laughing, being outdoors, having fun and celebrating life.

It didn't help matters that the young Dauphin had been married once before, to the pretty Infanta Maria Teresa Rafaela of Spain, who was four years his senior. The court had giggled behind their spangled and painted fans at the young's bride unfashionable red hair, but the Dauphin had fallen immediately ans violently in love with her and was thrilled when she became pregnant. 'I can hardly believe that I am so soon to become a father!', he wrote to a friend, his delight echoing that of every young father throughout the centuries.

Maria Teresa gave birth to a daughter Marie-Thérèse in July 1746 and died four days later. Her young husband, just sixteen years old at this time, was genuinely devastated with courtiers likening his grief to that of ‘an inconsolable child’, which in many ways he was. The little princess, his only link with his deceased love, was to live for just two years and would die in April 1748 after being given an emertic in an attemp to alleviate the pain of teething.

No one knew quite what to expect when the Dauphin was married again, this time to Maria Josepha, and she must have been quite perturbed when on their wedding night he collapsed in tears into her arms and sobbed about his dead wife, which must have been somewhat awkward to say the last. The marriage seemed doomed to failure until the Dauphin caught smallpox and his little wife insisted on nursing him back to health herself. It is said she took such great care of him that a short sighted doctor (...) said to the Dauphin, ‘You have an excellent little nurse there. Never get rid of her’. The Dauphin made a full recovery and filled with gratitude, he fell in love at last with his wife.

The young couple enjoyed a blissful life together, almost a second honeymoon in fact, and were to be seen at their devotions together in the Versailles chapel every morning, before taking the air together on the terrace by the Orangerie.

They shared exactly the same tastes for music, reading and gardening and loved to spend their time together. The Dauphin was a talented musician and played the violin, organ and spinet as well as singing in a very fine baritone. (...) He was also a talented actor, capable of reducing an audience to fits of uncotrollable laughter with his comedic roles.

(...) Both were keen philanthropists, who loved to assist the needy and were generous givers to charity. They gave instructions to their children’s tutors that the princes and princesses should be taken to the houses of the needy so that they could see for themselves how the poor lived.

‘They must learn to weep. A prince who has never shed any tears cannot be good’, the Dauphin explained.

He was also very fond of taking his sons to view the baptismal register of the parish of Versailles, where their names were written alongside those of more humble infants.

‘Look my children, look at your names written after the name of a pauper. The only thing that can establish any difference between you is virtue’, he would say.

(...) When Louis Auguste was born in the Dauphine’s bedchamber on the ground floor of Versailles in the boiling hot summer of 1754, the royal nursery at the palace was already home to Marie Zéphyrine, who was born in August 1750 and Louis Joseph, who was born in September 1751. Another son, Xavier, had recently died in February 1754 at the age of six months.

(...) Their new son was born at quarter to seven and immediately passed into the care of Madame de Marsan, who was already governess to his elder brother the Duc de Bourgogne (...).”

From: “Marie Antoinette: An Intimate History”, by Melanie Clegg.

#18th century #King Louis XV #Queen Marie #marie leszczynska #House of Bourbon #Capetienne dynasty #Capét #Marie Antoinette #Louis XVI #King Louis XVI #Dauphin Louis #Maria Josepha of Saxony #Maria Teresa Rafaela of Spain #Dauphine #modern age France #portraits #Versailles

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emmaofnormandy · 4 years

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~Hear them Roar: when Louis VIII of France meets Jaime Lannister~

Found in his favourite residence, the Château de Montpensier, was the king of France. His beloved wife, Queen Blanche, insisted in making him company. Or that at least, she requested, that he joined her in bed.

“It does little good for yourself to stay up as late as this hour”, she warned him.

But the lion of France was a stubborn man. Naturally, he refused the invitation, as tempting as it might had been. Truth was, he was expecting a guest. Despite the insistences of Blanche, upon which she was far more reasonable than him when claiming no man, regardless of his status, would come to the destiny late at night, he waited.

He was pacing around the great hall of the castle, built of stones. The fireplace warmed enough the surroundings, but Louis was too tired to bother the reminiscences of the cold. In fact, when he approached the windows in an attempt to find a light out of the dark, he knew there was little to hope for. He opened it, nonetheless, but one small breeze blowing against face made him quickly step backwards to his seat close to the fireplace.

As an aging man, Louis felt death dancing too close to him. When he took his seat, he could feel the shadows of the ending life tossed around him. A warning, he could hear from the ghosts, that the end was near. His memories, by then, took him back to the days where he almost became the first Louis to become sovereign upon all the Englishmen. He could even picture submitting other unimportant realms such as Wales and Scotland, had he had the chance of doing so.

Sword was his best friend, his best lover. The power with which he swung the sharp blade against his enemies, taking their lives out of their fleshes, could still be seen through the old lion’s eyes. He was great. The greater Louis, the king thought. However... what was the point of the recognition of his skills when his reign entered it’s twilight?

Immersed in such thoughts, Louis did not hear steps coming. Of course, as a king, he could not be alone. There were guards in their posts, eyeing every corner, every detail, always aware of who was in, who was out. Admittedly, however, Louis never saw them as a single person, an individual who, like himself, had each stories to collect and tell. That was why he was startled when the captain of his guard announced:

“Your Grace, a knight man named Jaime of the House Lannister has arrived. He claims to have been invited by you, Sire”.

Louis sighed. A sign of his hand was the answer needed and soon Louis’s eyes were drawned to the figure that was this close to be the ghost of himself. There was this man, a knight whose fame overshadowed the deeds and brilliantism of Lancelot and Percival, two of the greatests knights who followed King Arthur. Louis wondered if the man that stood before him would have been acquainted with such stories. After all, as far as he was concerned, Westeros was a completely different realm from France, even England, or elsewhere he’d been before.

Jaime was not that younger than him, after all. When his dark pierce blue eyes got accostumed to the figure before him, Louis could tell they were of close age. The Lannister knight was dressed in his best costumes, with a white cape capturing his attention in particular.

“Your Grace.” Jaime said, greeting properly the king of such a distant and foreigner land. “’Tis a pleasure to be at your presence. On behalf of the king Tommen of the Seven Kingdoms, we are pleased to note this meeting finally took place”

Louis immediately decided that he liked the other male. A kind gesture followed brief presentations, in which he indicated a seat for Jaime to take, which he did. In turn, Jaime thought only pleasantries when he took his place. As a matter of fact, it surprised him to see how similar they were in manners.

Quiet, reserved, but definitely fierce warrior in battle. The man too keeps his sword close to him and he dresses accordingly his station... though I’d say it fits more a soldier than a king. His eyes are studying me as much mine are studying his. Good, I suppose.

Once wine and food were served, Louis the king did not take much longer to pursue conversation with Jaime the knight. Soon, he had his confirmation that they shared many things in common besides the looks and the age.

“I trust the journey has not been dull?” He inquired as he took a sip of his wine. Burgundian, as he appreciated. Sweet.

Taking notice the court of the king appreciated the wine a little too much, which bitterly reminded him of Cersei, Jaime, though, kept the perceptions to himself. He thus took the glass to his lips and sipped quietly before answering:

“Not at all, Your Grace. It was a very long one, which is what one supposes to be when studying the distance between two different kingdoms. Thankfully, however, it was hardly anything that should not be inquired in what we qualify as dull.”

Such remark brought a smirk to the king’s lips.

“Well then, at least all went well”, said he. “Tell me, my lord, what is Westeros like? You must excuse my ignorance on that matter for most of my life was spent in wars, whether inside or outside in England, so I’ve had little time to be informed of Westeros. A knowledge that my father decided to keep to himself.”

Another one who has issues with his father?

Jaime pondered his words carefully before explaining the other king about his realm. In truth, he knew that if Joffrey was present, he’d take the older man’s words as insult, regardless if Louis was his equal in status. But these days were thankfully not governed by his bloody son, and even now Jaime was far from the brutus idiotic he might had been in the past. After all, don’t people evolve?

“Westeros is composed by seven kingdoms, Sire. Each one once had their own overlords before the conquest of the House Targaryen”, and here he explained who were these Targaryens and could see the perplexity behind Louis’s eyes, those also showing some skepticism. The usual reaction. “However the Targaryen rule did not last as long as one might think. I suppose it /did/ last long enough, but we had a rebellion that put them down for good.”

Jaime wiselly kept the king ignorant of his part on Robert’s rebellion, not telling him he was regarded as kingslayer for many years. Even nowadays, people insisted in calling him so. However, king Louis was no fool. He could read the eyes of every man and woman who sat before him and knew when they were telling lies or not.

Louis believed in Jaime, but understood that a man as him had his secrets.

We all have that side we’d like to keep. Arrogance, vanity, overpowering others... These precisely faults that led me to loose the crown of England.

“We have much in common, I see. Your stories did reach my ears, a contrast to the history you lectured me.”

Jaime smiled. He was not expecting this to be.

“I appreciate it, Sire. You are mostly kind. But I don’t think I deserve these stories... I’m afraid they make me no justice.”

Louis’s interest was captured. He inclined little forward.

“How so?”

The man is a well reader of persons.

Jaime looked uncomfortable, but there was little need to tell lies.

“I fear my morals were corrupted with time.”

“It usually happens to many of us.”

Louis smiled and such men, formerly strangers to one another, found comfort in each other’s presence. A comfortable silence came between them, but the conversation started naturally again after a few moments in contemplation.

“I was told you are the lion of France”, mentioned Jaime, in awe.

At such unexpected remark, Louis’s features softened. He was not sure how to respond this. But eventually a smile came out as response before saying:

“I fought many battles ever since I was a young lad. My father wanted his son and eventual heir to be shaped in his image.”

At this, Jaime laughed.

“My father too hoped to turn me in his heir.”

Louis’s eyebrows raised.

“Really? What happened then?”

“I’ve made a vow and the disappointment was crystal clear”,said the kingslayer, eventually telling how the last Targaryen king chose him to become part of the King’s Guards and therefore could not take a wife nor have a part of inheritance of the family. A perpetual, but disgraced vow.

“I’m sorry about that”, said Louis, genuinely so.

As they exchanged looks, Jaime felt as if, for the first time in his lifetime, he found a genuine friend. Maybe too early to make such assumption, but with his father’s demise and the disappearance of Tyrion, he felt alone in this world. Perhaps this diplomacy mission he was sent for was not entirely a bad idea.

“At times, I feel sorry too.”

Wine was served once more before the two men contemplated silently how similar were their lives. How God’s purpose was strange in bringing such men together.

“A lion in this world survives alone”, said the French king, “because the authority that comes with force is unmatchable. Our legacy, my friend, is left in conquests written in History, but for our enemies... Our roar will continuously roar within the depth of their far more lonely minds.”

Jaime smiled. Who could tell there’d be comfort and learning in such strange lands? He rose his glass filled with wine and toasted:

“A friendship uniting two realms. For this, I cheer upon.”

Louis followed him in gesture and said:

“For the alliance brought upon us. For Westeros and France.”

In the end, even such powerful lions could not dwell upon their destinies alone. That was how they survived, that was how they roared in such a world. No death could eclipse that...

#Jaime Lannister #House Lannister #Louis VIII #King Louis #Louis VIII of France #Capét dynasty #House Capét #Capetienne Dynasty #lion of france #crossover

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