SassMasterEdelstein + Lizstomania
Aug 31, 2014 18:04:23 GMT -6
Post by lisztomania on Aug 31, 2014 18:04:23 GMT -6
A Hapsburg Monarchy RP
***
Summer 1526
Spain wasn't good with anger. He was good with a lot of other things, though, with women, with dances that sounded like the sun over Andalusia and the Mediterranean Sea, with prayers recited in devout Latin and with the feeling of the wind in his hair whenever he stood on a boat with a self-assured smile on his face. He was good with the battle axe and he was good with the crossbow, and he had grown quite good at fighting with France over the last century. France. France, France, France. The simple thought of him made him boil with fury.
Spain wasn't good with anger, especially not with anger he couldn't use to break things, kingdoms, empires, people with. He broke things anyway, a few pieces of furniture that didn't matter much anyway in Madrid, before storming away from the court, and to a place he knew would always feel more like home than the court of a king he sometimes wasn't sure he adored or despised. Charles was wise just as much as he was a devout, but he still felt like a foreigner, sometimes, whenever he spoke in that very peculiar kind of Dutch with an ease that never failed to remind Spain of where his loyalty stood. Charles wasn't a Spaniard the same way his son Philip was. Charles was the head of the House of Hapsburg, and he obeyed to its rules, to its interests, and to the demands of politics Spain often didn't fully understand. He wasn't like Austria, not in that way anyway, and there was no point in trying to make him understand why they were negotiating a peace that everyone knew would not last.
It had been two weeks since he had left the capital, and five days since he had last left his rooms, in Seville's Alcazar's, in which he had barricaded himself with a Latin copy of the Bible, a vihuela, and enough wine to drown the entire French Army. Spain knew he was an empire, the largest one Europe had seen in centuries, the Empire upon which the sun would never set, stretching from the Americas to Asia, but he didn't feel like being one just now, not when being an empire meant signing peace with heretics. France. France and the Moors. He would have killed that arrogant French king himself, had he gotten the chance. Spain didn't feel like being an empire just now, not when Turkey walked hand in hand with France to destroy everything that was holy in the Western hemisphere. He felt like playing music, like sleeping, like breaking a few more pieces of furniture in fits of rage, and like drinking his problems away. There was gold, from the Americas, and there would always be gold, and silver, and the holy power that had been bestowed upon him as a savior of Christendom ever since he had risen back from the ashes and taken the land that had always rightfully been his, in the same Andalusian soil in which he was currently standing.
He should have known better than not to expect a certain someone he had learned to know all too well in the last few years to come and drag him out of his drunken apathy. Political unions and kings that were more German than Spanish. Spain should have known better than to end up in a marriage with Austria.
. I should be the one apologising about Spain being a dick lol.))