FRAGMENTS OF A DYNASTY
Based on the TV Show "Tudors"

Summary: the start of a dynasty, the day Margret Beaufort marries Edmund Tudor in the eyes of Jasper Tudor. Inspired by Philippa Gregory's novel The Red Queen.

Pairings: implied beginnings of Jasper/Margret

His brother's bride is barely a slip of a girl.

Small, flat as a boy, swamped in her bride clothing, and had the tiniest hands clasped into his brother's. Margret Beaufort was only twelve years old, as many brides usually are. But Jasper couldn't help think she was the tiniest bride to walk down the aisle. The wedding ring that had been picked out without much thought was so big on her tiny childlike finger that it kept slipping off and she had to pick it up off the floor countless of times.

Edmund didn't have much patience with her and Jasper couldn't blame him, after all they were two young men with a thirst to fight. They didn't need to be slowed down by a small little girl who is only here to give Edmund the sons he needs.

The wedding ceremony was dull but the feast afterwards was all good fun. As they prayed, Edmund nudges him and nods to his new little wife who looked very devout and pure as she prayed. Eyes shut peacefully, face relaxed but no smile; hands clasped tightly, the epitome of a good Christian.

She was praying longer than anyone else who had already begun to eat.

"It's bad enough I'm married to a child but a nun as well?" Edmund murmured into his ear.

Jasper attempted a laugh. He loved his brother and they usually had good fun teasing everyone around them but the moment Edmund had mocked his wife's devotion to God, her eyes opened and he saw something there.

"I hear her servants say she speaks to God," he murmured back. He was slightly awed in what he saw in the little girl's eyes. There was devotion, determination and a light that he had never seen in anyone. He could almost believe that she could hear God's voice. "They say she is fascinated with the Joan of Arc story," he added.

Edmund snorted. "Joan of Arc was a witch and nothing more, I don't believe the nonsense that she had spoken to angels. My new wife is a child still; she probably imagines it because she has nothing better to do than pray."

"Probably," Jasper snorted, he then stood up and held his goblet up. "To my brother and his new wife."

The guests cheered and all drank for Edmund and Margret Tudor. They ate and talked merrily before it was time for Edmund, Jasper and Margret to take their leave. It would be a long journey back.

As Margret met them at the door, her ring slipped and landed on the stone floor with a clang. She looked slightly irritated and embarrassed, Edmund grunted but Jasper smiled and bent down to pick it up, he presented to her as gallantly as he could without bursting out into laughter.

"Thank you," she said smiling for the first time.

Her face lit up with that smile. That light he saw earlier grew a little brighter in her dark eyes. He swallowed and shook his head. "There's nothing to it," he said, "come on Edmund we must go before it gets too dark."

He never cared before that he was the second son. After all, who needs all the hassle of being the heir when you can have all the fun you want as the second son? But for a moment, a split second, he wondered what it would have been like to be the first son, to be the one to marry and take this strange little girl back to his bed. He squashed the thought immediately, he might have seen something in this child but then again he's probably listened to too many servant whispers.

But there it was deep in his mind was a dark whispering as he watched Edmund grudgingly do his husbandly duty by helping Margret onto his horse. Edmund, who had little patience for women when he can be out doing whatever he wanted to do, will not be a good husband.

The dark little whisper in the back of Jasper Tudor's mind told him he would be a far better husband.

Jasper just put it down to the drink.

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