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FIC: Clovis (historical fiction)
Title: Clovis
Inspired by: Week 2:2
Warnings: Historical inaccuracy
Rating: G
Author's Notes: This is the reason that one shouldn't go to a community designed to inspire you after a day's worth of none-stop history study. Take note.
Historical Background: Clovis ruled over the Franks from 481-511 AD (the beginning of the Dark Ages), and he was the first to unite all the different tribes that were living in the Roman Gaul (France, basically) under one ruler. He married Clothilde of Burgundy in 493, and three years later he was baptized a Christian. At the time of this story, she's eighteen and he's about 25-27 depending on the dates you use.
“I want to marry him.” Clothilde said. She hadn’t really been aware that she had felt that way, but now that it was said…well, she felt at right with the world again. Her sister had choked when she had spoken, and was now just staring at her.
“Ah, eww, ‘Hilde. He’s got, like, long matted hair. And he throws axes into people’s heads.” Well, Basina was only thirteen. She could be forgiven for not seeing why exactly Clothilde had to marry him. The reason escaped herself, but the Burgundian princess felt sure that it would come to her at some point.
“Do you think I should tell Mama and Daddy first, or tell him that?” Basina just continued staring at her with a look of disgusted shock before she grabbed her sister’s hand and yanked her out of the Great Hall.
-
“Mama, Mama, ‘Hilde’s sick!” Queen Agrippine looked up from her weaving. Her oldest daughter smiled at her dreamily.
“I want to marry Clovis, Mama.” Now Agrippine was a calm, practical woman, so when she spoke her voice was calm and sweetly reasonable.
“Now, Clothilde, you know he is a pagan, don’t you?”
“I don’t care. I want to marry him.” Her mother’s smile began to falter slightly.
“What about that nice Roman boy your Uncle Gundobad found you? I thought you two got along.”
“Oh, we did. But I want to marry Clovis.” Agrippine found this statement oddly unsettling, but she did what mothers do best.
“Ask your father tonight, sweetling.”
-
“Daddy, I want to marry Clovis.” Her father looked up from where he was eating dinner and frowned.
“I do beg your pardon?”
“I want to marry Clovis.” Clothilde repeated calmly. Honestly, she really didn’t see why her family was making such a fuss. It must be the hair.
“Isn’t he that young upstart king of the um…the a…”
“The Franks, Daddy.”
“Yes, that’s right. Conducting some sort of campaign of overlordship, isn’t he?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“And has a terrible temper?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“And is pagan?”
“I’ll convert him, Daddy.”
“How?” Agrippine was having mild hysterics in the background.
“I’ll think of a way.”
“I’m sure you will, you’re a clever girl.” Her father shrugged slightly. “Well, I have no objections.”
“Chilperic!” Clothilde hid a smug little grin at her mother’s screech.
“Oh, hush, dear. She’s obviously thought about it, and it’s a good match. She’ll be queen. Now, ‘Hilde, told him yet, have you?”
“Oh, no, not yet. I thought I’d tell you first.”
“Good girl. Well, run along and tell the boy.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
-
“You’re crazy.” Clovis told her after a long moment.
“Oh, no, I’m quite sane.”
“Fine. Then you are feverish.” She smiled at him, and the young King looked slightly worried.
“I am perfectly healthy.”
“Look, Princess, I am quite flattered, really, but aren’t you endangering your immortal soul or something by not marrying a Christian?”
“No.”
“Oh.” He looked a little suspicously at her, but Clothilde just continued smiling at him. Well, for another minute anyway. The smile turned into a frown, and she looked very hurt.
“Don’t…don’t you want to marry me?”
“What? Of course I do!” Clovis stopped short as she began to smile again, and realized what he had said. Ah, what the hell, she seemed a sensible girl. And pretty. Never forget pretty.
“So, it’s all settled then?”
“…don’t we have to ask your father first?”
“Oh, I already did. But you can ask again if it makes you feel better.” As he reached to take her hand, Clovis began to wonder what on earth he had gotten himself into.
Fin.
Inspired by: Week 2:2
Warnings: Historical inaccuracy
Rating: G
Author's Notes: This is the reason that one shouldn't go to a community designed to inspire you after a day's worth of none-stop history study. Take note.
Historical Background: Clovis ruled over the Franks from 481-511 AD (the beginning of the Dark Ages), and he was the first to unite all the different tribes that were living in the Roman Gaul (France, basically) under one ruler. He married Clothilde of Burgundy in 493, and three years later he was baptized a Christian. At the time of this story, she's eighteen and he's about 25-27 depending on the dates you use.
“I want to marry him.” Clothilde said. She hadn’t really been aware that she had felt that way, but now that it was said…well, she felt at right with the world again. Her sister had choked when she had spoken, and was now just staring at her.
“Ah, eww, ‘Hilde. He’s got, like, long matted hair. And he throws axes into people’s heads.” Well, Basina was only thirteen. She could be forgiven for not seeing why exactly Clothilde had to marry him. The reason escaped herself, but the Burgundian princess felt sure that it would come to her at some point.
“Do you think I should tell Mama and Daddy first, or tell him that?” Basina just continued staring at her with a look of disgusted shock before she grabbed her sister’s hand and yanked her out of the Great Hall.
-
“Mama, Mama, ‘Hilde’s sick!” Queen Agrippine looked up from her weaving. Her oldest daughter smiled at her dreamily.
“I want to marry Clovis, Mama.” Now Agrippine was a calm, practical woman, so when she spoke her voice was calm and sweetly reasonable.
“Now, Clothilde, you know he is a pagan, don’t you?”
“I don’t care. I want to marry him.” Her mother’s smile began to falter slightly.
“What about that nice Roman boy your Uncle Gundobad found you? I thought you two got along.”
“Oh, we did. But I want to marry Clovis.” Agrippine found this statement oddly unsettling, but she did what mothers do best.
“Ask your father tonight, sweetling.”
-
“Daddy, I want to marry Clovis.” Her father looked up from where he was eating dinner and frowned.
“I do beg your pardon?”
“I want to marry Clovis.” Clothilde repeated calmly. Honestly, she really didn’t see why her family was making such a fuss. It must be the hair.
“Isn’t he that young upstart king of the um…the a…”
“The Franks, Daddy.”
“Yes, that’s right. Conducting some sort of campaign of overlordship, isn’t he?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“And has a terrible temper?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“And is pagan?”
“I’ll convert him, Daddy.”
“How?” Agrippine was having mild hysterics in the background.
“I’ll think of a way.”
“I’m sure you will, you’re a clever girl.” Her father shrugged slightly. “Well, I have no objections.”
“Chilperic!” Clothilde hid a smug little grin at her mother’s screech.
“Oh, hush, dear. She’s obviously thought about it, and it’s a good match. She’ll be queen. Now, ‘Hilde, told him yet, have you?”
“Oh, no, not yet. I thought I’d tell you first.”
“Good girl. Well, run along and tell the boy.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
-
“You’re crazy.” Clovis told her after a long moment.
“Oh, no, I’m quite sane.”
“Fine. Then you are feverish.” She smiled at him, and the young King looked slightly worried.
“I am perfectly healthy.”
“Look, Princess, I am quite flattered, really, but aren’t you endangering your immortal soul or something by not marrying a Christian?”
“No.”
“Oh.” He looked a little suspicously at her, but Clothilde just continued smiling at him. Well, for another minute anyway. The smile turned into a frown, and she looked very hurt.
“Don’t…don’t you want to marry me?”
“What? Of course I do!” Clovis stopped short as she began to smile again, and realized what he had said. Ah, what the hell, she seemed a sensible girl. And pretty. Never forget pretty.
“So, it’s all settled then?”
“…don’t we have to ask your father first?”
“Oh, I already did. But you can ask again if it makes you feel better.” As he reached to take her hand, Clovis began to wonder what on earth he had gotten himself into.
Fin.