Of Men and Lions - An Aquitaine HIP AAR

[BlackZeroX987]

Table of Contents​

Duke Philip I of Aquitaine
Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six
Chapter Seven -​

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A Foreword​

Hello! Long time lurker here!

I've been reading AARs here for the past year or so, and I've read a great deal of them, as rich and varied as they are, and I finally decided to try my hand at an AAR. Normally, I try to be as close to history as possible when playing these sort of games, you all know the nature of the game and how ahistorical it can get. Like, literally as soon as you unpause, it's already diverging.

But there are times where I wonder what if history had actually diverged on its own. A moment, a single instant, that would alter everything else to follow. What if Ragnar hadn't perished in a pit of snakes? What if Edward the Confessor had issue of his own? What if the de Normandie dynasty had maintained their rule of England? What if Saladin hadn't captured Jerusalem? What if the Fourth Crusade hadn't sacked Constantinople? And Crusader Kings 2 is a fantastic game to explore these sort of moments.

This AAR is all about one of those moments.

It took a bit of setting up with console commands and referencing actual history for a more accurate background to build on, so it's safe to say that this isn't an Ironman game, which is a shame because that would have been fun. Plus, with my Ironman version, it consistently ended too early or ended up taking huge leaps forward, so I've had to use console commands early on to stop that from happening. And apart from one instance where I had to play a chess game with Death, there's no save scumming either. But of course, apart from that, the story that follows is as it occurred in the game. And ultimately, that is what this is, a story I'm hoping to tell.

Below is the prologue to my AAR. The next update will contain both the first chapter and pictures to go with it! I thank you in advance for taking the time to read!

Enjoy!

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DLCs & Mods​

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Of Men and Lions
An Aquitaine HIP AAR
~
Prologue​

"From the Devil we sprang and to the Devil we shall go."​

Limousin, the Castle of Chalus
The Sixth of April, in the Year of our Lord 1199

The day was nearly spent.

Eleanor sighed as she came to the tent, deep within the encampment, dreading this moment throughout her entire journey from the palace of Poitiers. The news had not been good but she could not have ignored it, would have never ignored it. Not when it concerned her favorite son, her most beloved child.

"My lady." A man stepped forward. Unlike the two knights guarding the tent, this man was older than them, much older. He bent low before Eleanor, but there was no mistaking the mask of grief on his face, as dark as it was now. "He is inside."

"Henry... How is he?" She asked of Henry of Thornham, a kinsman of the famed soldier and administrator Robert of Thornham, one of the King's most trusted servants. Robert could not have accompanied the King here, as diligent as he was about the management of the King's business. But Eleanor knew how much the old man trusted Henry, how capable he was. It was why the King had taken him along, after all.

Henry could only give her a sad sigh. "The physicians do not think he will last the night, my lady. The bolt was removed but... His wound stinks of gangrene."

She inhaled sharply. As far as news went, this was particularly abysmal. "And the man who removed it?"

Henry of Thornham looked at her then. "He has been put to death, my lady. By the captain of the King's mercenaries, Mercadier. As soon as the King was struck, he was brought back here. Mercadier is preparing for an assault on the castle. He's sworn to hang any man that remains within the walls."

"What about the one who struck my son? This..." She began.

The steward nodded. Grim business, that. "Pierre Basile. Or Peter. I am not entirely certain, my lady. But he is dead. The King pardoned him for inflicting the injury on him, but... Captain Mercadier..."

"Go on."

"He has already had the young man flayed."

Eleanor looked past Henry then, toward the tent flap. "A pity. I would have inflicted much worse. I will see my son now. Please ensure that no one interrupts us."

"By your command, my lady." Henry bowed again, as one of the two knights drew open the tent, allowing Eleanor of Aquitaine entry. She could smell it then, the stench of the gangrene.

It was brightly illuminated, with two braziers in place. On the bed, Richard rested as best as he could despite the agony. His arm, she could see even from here, had been mangled by that fool of a surgeon. "Mother...?"

She approached the bed, seated herself beside her favorite child and rested a hand on his trembling cheek, slick with sweat. "I'm here, Richard. Oh, my poor child, my little lion... What has that butcher done to you?"

Through the agony, he smiled. "It is of little consequence now, mother. The Devil will have his due, I promise you that. But that matters little now. What matters is that you're here." Richard the Lionheart groaned in pain then, before looking up at the woman who had given birth to him, had stood by him so much, had aided him throughout his life. There could not be a finer mother anywhere else, he knew. "My time is short, I know. I can feel my death approaching. The succession..."

Eleanor sighed. This was what she had been afraid of for so long now, the matter which laid before them both. She had hoped, had begged her son on countless occasions, for true issue of his own from his marriage with Berengaria of Navarre. But thus far, the marriage had proven fruitless.

Though she could not place the blame on Berengaria. Not when her son was constantly at war and oft found excuses to be elsewhere.

"You have no heirs of your own." She spoke simply.

Richard grimaced with pain, before giving her a weak smile. "I have a heir, mother. My brother John will succeed me."

"Yes, John." Eleanor sighed. "I know you love him, Richard. But I tell you once more, John is not the man you think he is. You esteem him too much, overlooking his many faults. Compared to you, he is nothing. Weak. Craven. False. He has always been envious of you and Henry and Geoffrey. And he has conspired and schemed and plotted to rob you of everything you hold." She shook her head then. "England may accept him, but his French and Occitan vassals will not. In time, even the patience of England's barons will be tested. He may become King but he will lose everything. Normandy. Anjou. Poitou. Aquitaine. Gascony. Philippe will take it all from John. Everything your father built, gone. King? Yes. But the last of the Angevin kings."

Richard could only give her a sad smile in response. "He is still my brother, in spite of all that. He is still your son. Soon your only surviving son. He will be King. There is no other choice. I should have listened to you, mother. But now... I have no son to pass on my inheritance."

Eleanor was silent.

The Lionheart chuckled ruefully. "Truly now, I have been a bad son, a bad brother, a bad husband, and a worse king. Perhaps John will do better. How could he not, compared to what came before him?"

The Queen Mother could not listen any further. "You are wrong, my sweet son, my beloved Richard. You lament now that you did not listen to me before? Well. Listen now, child. Listen to me. I counsel you now, one last time."

Richard sighed, closing his eyes. He was tired. So very tired. And the agony did not abate. It refused to, despite all his physicians' care and their many treatments. Nothing worked. Though, he supposed that was because he was no longer in their care. No, death had its grips on him now, and it would not let loose such a great prize.

"Counsel me then."

Eleanor sighed then, encouraged by her son's willingness to listen. "You are not without issue. Your bastard. Legitimise him."

He opened his eyes and stared at his mother with great incredulity. "Philip? Have you taken leave of your senses? If paying homage to John is distasteful to my lords, then it will be doubly so with a bastard. Besides, I know his ability. If John is inept, Philip is even less capable."

"But he has potential. I taught you how to rule your lords when you came to Aquitaine as her Duke. Under my tutelage, I can mold Philip into a proper heir. Legitimise him, name him your heir, and I will shape the son into a caricature of the father. They will not love him as they love you, Richard..."

He could only remain silent now.

But that silence did not deter Eleanor. "... But they will fear him. You have a lion's courage, my son. I will give him a lion's wrath."

At last, Richard laughed. "A fearsome thing, that. To have a lion's courage in addition to the black bile of our family's evil origins." The King smiled. Or was it a grimace? Yet, Eleanor understood what he was getting at. Henri II had been quite fiery and full of rage, as had all of her sons thus far. The infamous temper of the House of Anjou ran strong in the descendants of Geoffrey Plantagenet after all.

Richard coughed then, groaning in pain before collecting himself once more. He smiled again. "From the Devil we sprang, mother. And to the Devil I shall go."

His mother said nothing. How could she? All depended on Richard now. She had said her piece, after all. It was now up to her son to decide whenever to act on her counsel. But even then, if he did... She knew John would still be King. After all, any pretender to the throne, John would do away with. There was always the possibility that her grandson by Geoffrey II of Brittany, Arthur, would be chosen over John. But she did not expect the child to last long after Richard. Arthur was only twelve after all. And she knew the nature of her son well.

John would surely kill Arthur.

No. If Richard did legitimate Philip, John would still be King. But she could ensure that Aquitaine remained outside John's grasp. By giving Aquitaine a new Duke to call her own. One that could perhaps in time challenge John and take his father's throne. If not Philip, then surely his son instead.

Richard sighed. "Very well. Draw up the document. I will legitimise the bastard. After that, I commend him to your care."

Eleanor did a marvelous job of containing herself but she got up then to do as her royal son commanded. There was much to do, after all. Perhaps, she dared to hope now, perhaps the Angevin domains would not fall into the hands of Philippe Augustus. Until then, she could only hope that the magnates of England and France, William Marshal of Pembroke and Robert FitzWalter of Essex among them, would keep John in check.

Else there would surely be a war between John and his Barons.

A war in which the power of England's Kings might be forever diminished, if not irrevocably broken. Such a thing must never come to pass, she instinctively understood. Until then, she would enjoy what little time remained to Richard, for she knew that this night would end with her beloved son dead in her arms.

And by morning, the fate of a bastard would be forever altered.

 

[stnylan]

Nice point of departure!

Welcome to AAR writing. I hope you enjoy yourself.

One editing note, I believe the word is legitimise in its verb form.

 

[Nuada Airgetlám]

An interesting point of divergence! Was there much in the way of console setup needed?

 

[Idhrendur]

This ought to be good.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Cautiously interested, I think.

 

[BlackZeroX987]

Nice point of departure!

Welcome to AAR writing. I hope you enjoy yourself.

One editing note, I believe the word is legitimise in its verb form.

Drat! That'll teach me to not write so late at night! My thanks, however! -rushes off to edit-

An interesting point of divergence! Was there much in the way of console setup needed?

Let's see... I originally started with Eleanor of Aquitaine, exactly one day before the day she originally died on. She already held Poitiers, Saintes, and Aunis. Found Richard I's bastard and gave him Poitiers first, switched over to him, then gave him the rest of Eleanor's lands, along with the Duchy of Aquitaine. I tried returning some vassals to King John such as the Prince-Bishop of Agen and the Earl of Perigord, as I wanted to start with as little as possivle, but he kept returning them to me. -_- After that, she was moved to his court.

Afterwards, it was mostly fiddling with traits. Philip de Cognac already had a decent set of traits and stats on my start so all I really had to do with him was switch out the Bastard trait for the Legitimized Bastard trait. William Marshal, the Earl of Pembroke, was also given the Strong trait, because historically, he lived to be 72 years old and he has been said on countless times to possess incredible strength. I also altered the names of several provinces, such as Aunis, to better reflect what I wanted to accomplish in-game, as you'll soon see.

All in all, it didn't take too much to set up.. Although, looking up all the necessary information for the console commands was the hardest bit here, it was much easier because I had already gone through a number of books on historical figures like the Marshal himself and of course, Richard the Lionheart.

This ought to be good.

Hopefully! Glad to have you with us!

Cautiously interested, I think.

Immensely grateful, I am. Welcome aboard!

 

[BlackZeroX987]

Of Men and Lions
An Aquitaine HIP AAR​

~​

Chapter One​

"His life was one magnificent parade, which, when ended, left only an empty plain."​

- Sir Winston Churchill, History of the English-Speaking Peoples​

Berkshire, the Royal Castle of Windsor
The Eleventh of March, in the Year of our Lord 1204

John sat atop his throne, the very same throne he had hungered after for so many years now. The throne of his father, of his brothers. He had done much to gain it, such terrible things. But they were all worth it, to him. After all, was he not the King of England and Lord of Ireland now? It should have been so much more, however. By right, he should have also been Duke of Normandy, were it not for the treacherous King of France, that self-serving back-stabbing Philippe Augustus...

Ah, there was plenty of time to recover his lost territories later.

He would give Philippe a good thumping and take back what had been taken from him. Then no one would dare antagonize him again. Nor compare him to his own predecessor, the widely loved Lionheart. That arrogant little bastard, more like. To him, it must have seemed like everyone was willing to overlook Richard's flaws while they never let him forget his own faults.

How monstrously unfair!

But it didn't matter. He'd silence them all. Especially the Earl of Pembroke. King John looked to the side then, his gaze falling upon William the Marshal, that most famed of knights. And he smiled.

By the time he was finished with the Marshal, William would be begging for mercy and royal favor once more.

Then he turned his attention back upon his Chancellor who now approached the king with a younger man in tow. Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, bowed deep before his lord and master. As did his accompanying guest. "Your Majesty, I have the honor of bringing before you Philip de Cognac, the Duke of Aquitaine."

Gasps could be audibly heard everywhere, as courtiers and nobles and guards craned and peered to have a look at the newcomer.

King John, admittedly confused and surprised, did well to maintain his composure. It did not bode well for a king to be unable to control himself, after all. But... The last time he had seen this whelp, it had been three years ago, when he came to sell the honour of Cognac which his own royal father had given him. He had not expected to see the boy again after that, but... All the same, he gathered himself. "I bid you welcome to my court, nephew."

Philip de Cognac cut a striking figure there in the midst of King John's court. He looked very much like his father, though not as tall nor as imposing. And there was none of the telltale trembling Richard the Lionheart had, the nervous energy within just waiting to be unleashed. But here he was, a son every bit as impressive as his father.

King John felt something on his hand and looked down then, noticing his wife squeezing his own hand. He realized then that he had been lost in thought. It was strange, like seeing the Richard of old suddenly spring up in front of him. But this was not the Richard of old.

Philip bowed once more, smiling as he stood up straight. It was strange to see, a bastard knowing how to behave before nobility, as if he were one of them. Someone must have taught him, John quickly realized. "Beloved uncle, it is my honor to stand once more before the finest king England has ever known."

And though John knew it was only flattery, he could not help but puff up slightly, hoping to look yet more regal. "Unless I misheard, and I do not think I have... Duke of Aquitaine? What claim does a bastard have upon Aquitaine, pray tell?"

His Chancellor approached closer then, carrying a scroll in his hands.

"A bastard no longer, your Majesty. In his final moments, he legitimized me as his true heir to the Duchy of Aquitaine, in the hopes that you would know just how dearly he loved you. My father understood just how treacherous King Philippe of France is. He knew you would need a true friend in the days to come, and so... Uncle, I have come to do homage to you and swear fealty to the one true king of both England and France."

King John relaxed yet more, comforted by this. So he had not come to challenge his uncle for the throne nor lay claim upon it as his heir. Though, it was obvious to all that should John die without any true issue of his own, Philip would certainly be crowned king after him.

That would never happen, not when he still had such a young wife in Isabelle Taillefer of Angouleme. Surely they would have plenty of children together shortly.

"Come forth then, nephew." King John gestured for him to approach.

Philip came closer still to the king and knelt before him, as silence filled the court. "I Philip, Duke of Aquitaine, come here today to pay homage to my rightful liege, John, King of England by the grace of God. I voluntarily swear to always be your man in all things, to be true to you, to defend you from your foes, to render unto you what is due you, to provide you with men and arms for your wars. All this, I will do to the best of my ability from now until the end of my days. I swear all this before these witnesses and before God himself." Then he looked up at his liege lord now. "Furthermore, I swear fealty to you and to you alone. I shall always be faithful to you, to provide good counsel when asked, to never be false to you, to carry out your will and enforce your just laws, and to always be your man, so help me God."

King John stood up then, stepped down from his throne, and approached his nephew. He raised Philip from his kneeling position and kissed him on the cheek. "I accept your homage and your oath of fealty, Philip of Aquitaine. From this day forth, you will rule Aquitaine as my vassal."

The two embraced then, Philip pleased to have his investiture confirmed and John at potentially gaining such a useful ally and pawn. They parted then. John gestured toward the men and lords that served on his council. Named to his royal council, other than Earl Robert of Leicester, was the Marshal of the realm, Vicomte Gui of Carlat, along with England's chief administrator and steward, Earl William of Pembroke, the master of spies, Earl William of Derby, the arbiter of England's faith and all things ecclesiastical, Godfrey de Melton, the Prince-Bishop of Elys. Philip also espied among them another uncle of his, William Longspee, now the Earl of Wiltshire through his marriage to Ela of Salisbury, its Countess.

John smiled at his nephew. "I would have you join my council and counsel me in all matters."

Surprised at the offer, especially so soon now, Philip could only bow once more. "You are most generous, uncle. I fear I am unworthy of such a boon but if this is your will, then I must accept." He straightened up again and smiled as well. "After all, one does not refuse the King's command nor his generosity."

The King smiled and laughed then, returning to his throne. "Good! I am well pleased, Philip!"

The Lion's bastard cleared his throat. "Uncle, I should like to return to my holdings and present this wonderful news to your mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine."

John smiled once more. "Yes, of course. You may go and inform her of your new position here at court. Do not stay afar for too long, however. I intend to reclaim my just rights and inheritance soon from Philippe and I will have need of your counsel and support." He gestured for Philip to leave then, dismissing his new vassal. "And tell my mother that it would gladden me if she visited."

Philip bowed deep one last time. "I shall, uncle." The Duke of Aquitaine left then, his business in Windsor concluded. It had all gone quite well, he was glad to note.

Just as his noble grandmother had counseled.

 

[Nuada Airgetlám]

Philip has indeed been taught well. He is saying all of the right things to keep his head.

He knows that advisor is as weak a council position as it gets. But still, a start.

 

[stnylan]

Everything has to start somewhere. And access - that is what is important.

 

[BlackZeroX987]

Philip has indeed been taught well. He is saying all of the right things to keep his head.

He knows that advisor is as weak a council position as it gets. But still, a start.

Philip may not have been born and raised to rule anything, but five years is plenty of time to hammer in some general guidelines into his head, courtesy of Eleanor of Aquitaine. I was honestly surprised to get offered a position so soon, but then again, Earl Waleran, the Advisor at the time, was getting on in his years so he just up and kicked the bucket. XD

Everything has to start somewhere. And access - that is what is important.

Truth. And for Philip, this is merely the start of his adventure! As weak as the position may be, it certainly gives him influence on the council, which is a start, and it's a position I'd gladly have Philip take as I wanted him to have a free hand in reigning in Aquitaine before taking on a role more substantial later on. He'll eventually aspire for greater heights (Don't we all?) but until then, he has plenty of unruly lords to tame and enemies to declaw, least of all a troublesome Queen!

But that is a story for another ti- Actually, it's the next chapter!

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Liking it so far. Which version of the game are you using and what dlc slash mods?

 

[BlackZeroX987]

Of Men and Lions
An Aquitaine HIP AAR​

~​

Chapter Two​

"See the cunning of this accursed man! To obtain his ends he would first employ force
then smooth words. We never had to face a craftier or a bolder enemy!"​

- Bahā' ad-Dīn Yusuf ibn Rafi ibn Shaddād​

Paris, the Royal Castle of Melun
The Twentieth of March, in the Year of our Lord 1204

It had been quite a journey from Dover to Calais, but one he couldn't have avoided. If paying homage to the King of England was crucial, then paying homage to the French was even more so, especially when one's lands remained within easy reach of his power.

Philippe Augustus.

Such a fearsome foe, not only for King John and the English but also for the lords of Aquitaine and their new Duke. Philip could only gaze in amazement as he came across the Wall of Philippe Augustus, not yet completed but already impressive in the size and scope of Philippe's vision. It was clever, he knew. The Duchy of Normandy had been held by English kings at the time when he conceived his Wall, and the western passage posed the greatest danger to Paris. It was to cost the King considerable sums of money and take many years to complete but Philip could not fault the King for choosing to build such an obstacle to ward off his enemies. He would have done the same were he the King of France himself.

But then again, he wasn't and he had only begun to view things in terms of strategy and necessity, as a part of the many lessons he learned from Eleanor of Aquitaine. That, and he was little inclined to say anything here. Les barralhos an ès è las parets aurelhos, his grandmother had told him before departing for England to see John, but Philip supposed the saying was also valid here as well.

Hedges have eyes, and walls ears.

Philip continued on, urging his horse forward as his affinity followed close behind, household knights and trusted servants all.

It was many hours later when he was finally granted an audience with the French monarch. Ahead, as he walked down the breadth of the great hall, sat the greatest of the Capetian kings, a man said to be divinely touched, a gift from God himself. This was the very man who had treated with Richard as a friend and ally at first, only to become a troublesome foe later on.

Philip found it difficult to think of him as anything but his father's greatest rival.

And so he bowed before the King of the Franks, his grandmother's warning fresh in his mind. "Philippe is the most dangerous enemy you will ever face, more than your own royal uncle. You would be wise to tread carefully with caution and be mindful of all you say to him," Eleanor had warned him.

"Bonjour, Philip of Aquitaine. I have heard much of you as of late." The King stood up as he greeted the Lionheart's son. While Philip did not think this king was lying, he couldn't help but wonder as to what he had heard. No doubt he thought of Philip as little more than a bastard with a bit of luck. And he had no doubt as to what Philippe intended to do with him.

After all, Eleanor had instructed him in the strife between his grandfather King Henry II and his sons, how they had rebelled against their father and found a friend in this French king, only to lose that friendship once they each ascended to thrones of their own.

A simple yet ever useful strategy, that. Divide and conquer. No doubt this king now wished to do the same with him against King John.

"Your Majesty," Philip smiled.

"I suppose you've come to pay me homage for Aquitaine?" Philippe sat down then, beckoning a servant forth for some wine. "Would it not have been wiser to come to me first, considering your Aquitaine will soon be within my power? Although, no doubt John Lackland expects to regain Normandy for himself. Tell me, do they still call him Softsword behind his back?" He chuckled then before drinking some of his wine. "I could never decide on whenever it was because of his poor ability at war... Or because he hasn't any children of his own?"

The Duke could only smile. "He has two bastards, your Majesty."

"Yes, yes," Philippe waved that aside. "But they are only bastards. Still, two of them. That's something he did better than your own father, I suppose."

And the smile faded away.

"Forgive me, your Grace. It was merely a jest. You must give your uncle something to be proud of, especially when he is just about to lose everything." The King smiled again, helping himself to some more of his wine. "That, and I fear that it is an immutable fact of our times that a strong king can say what he wishes, while a weak one must be mindful of what he has to say. Don't you think so?"

Philip nodded in agreement. There was his own experience with King John just a week ago, after all. He sensed that there was much more John wanted to say, especially about being robbed of his inheritance of Aquitaine. But what could he say about it now? What more could he do other than show his approval?

While he knew that Philippe was very much the master of France now, after having made war on his own vassals just some scant years ago. And already, he risked antagonizing the Emperor himself.

This Philippe did not fear anyone else, even if he had sufficient reason to.

"Though it may be presumptive of me to ask you this, but... If you would, I've some counsel for you." The King continued, and Philip could not have disputed this nor would he have refused the opportunity to hear what was on a king's mind. "Denounce your royal uncle. Swear fealty to me instead. I intend to swallow up all of Poitou soon. It is already an established fact, but it would be all the easier with Aquitaine's aid. Besides, if Aquitaine deflects, Gascogne and Auvergne must needs follow suit. Else, you will find yourself surrounded on all sides by the likes of Anjou and Toulouse."

There was little fault in the King's logic, Philip knew. All this, he had heard from Eleanor. Though, she had cautioned a different path. He sighed before answering, "I thank you for your royal advice, your Majesty, but I fear I must disappoint you this time. I have already sworn fealty to my uncle, and to renounce that... I am no traitor, your Majesty. I have only come to pay you homage."

The King, clearly displeased, made no attempt to hide it.

But Philip was not yet finished. "However, if you were to reclaim your lost territories, then I would gladly swear fealty to you instead and to fight your wars for you. Until then, I can only promise to not knowingly do you harm and to pay you what is due you as Aquitaine's dejure overlord."

Philippe glared at the younger man. Then he laughed. "Well said, Philip. You are your father's son, after all. I confess myself disappointed that you will not align yourself behind me but that changes little. I will reclaim Poitou and Aquitaine and all else eventually. And when I do, I shall hold you true to your word."

The Duke bowed deep once more, pleased that he had yet again escaped a king's wrath.

But he knew it wouldn't last forever. There may come a day where he must decide between England and France, after all. And no matter what he chose, one king would feel himself betrayed. Until then, he would do the best he could in ensuring his survival and the survival of Aquitaine. "You will find in me a most loyal subject, your Majesty, if that day ever comes. Until then, I hope you think of me fondly as a friend, just as you were to my father."

With that, the King merely smiled and gestured for him to leave. Philip made good his dismissal and speedily left Paris that day, unwilling to risk anything further. Eleanor had not taught him to be a fool, after all.

---

Poitiers, the Palace of the Counts of Poitou
The Twenty-Eighth of March, in the Year of our Lord 1204

At last, home.

He could feel fatigue beginning to set up, from weeks of travel and standing his ground against two kings. Exhausting, to say in the least. His squire dismounted before him and rushed to take the reins of his own steed. Philip followed suit before patting the boy on his shoulder. Guillaume de Rovignan was only eleven but already he showed all the signs of the man he would soon grow into, especially with how conscientious of his duty he was.

The fact that he was French could be forgiven. Duke Philip handed the boy his sword before taking off toward his home. Ahead, he could see one of his vassals awaiting him. Of course it would be him. The Duke greeted his spymaster then, Bertrand of Ventadour, the Prince-Bishop of Agen. Ever since he had been young and named to the bishopric of Agen, Bertrand had been his grandmother's servant, always keeping her informed. Thus far, the Duke found him content to do the same for the grandson of Eleanor.

"Your Grace," Bertrand fell in behind the Duke, accompanying him on his walk, though Philip took care to slow his pace enough for the older man. "How find you our kings?"

Philip sighed. "One is a craven fool, the other insufferably arrogant. In other words, a fair sample of kings, would you not say?" Bertrand smiled, amused. There was something in that, given the kings that had come before them. "All the same... King John was pleasant. As pleasant as one can find him, I suppose. And King Philippe has made no secret of his desire to reclaim all of Aquitaine. He also seeks to turn me against John, I suspect."

"Just as your grandmother warned," Bertrand nodded.

The Duke knew that as crafty as Philippe was, his grandmother was craftier still. And it would take both guile and force of arms to maintain his hold on Aquitaine. It did not matter which king ruled him, he would rule Aquitaine regardless. "We have much to do, Bertrand. I will have great need of your talents and your support in the days to come."

The Prince-Bishop smiled. "I have ever been loyal to your grandmother, as I was to your father. Rest assured, I am your man... My prince."

Philip grinned then.

The two made their way to the great hall in silence then, Philip lost in thought. There was indeed much to do. So much. Least of all, he had to make sure the lords of Aquitaine would obey their Duke. Thouars to the north, ruled by Earl Aimery. Lusignan and La Marche, in the hands of Earl Hugues de Lusignan. In Limousin, Earl Gui, and in Ventadour, Earl Archambaut, both of the house of Comborn. Both Countess Mahaut of Bourbon and Vicomte Gui of Carlat to the east. In the south, Vicomtesse Beatritz of Dax, though it was her daughter and her husband who represented a union that posed more threat to him.

And on top of all that, Angouleme in the south, ruled by Isabelle of the house of Taillefer. The Queen herself. She was young, yes. Younger than him. But she had the favor of John. Royal favor that would grow stronger yet in the presence of children of their own. Though without a heir to call his own, Philip suspected John would be less forgiving toward his wife.

Until then, he could not rely on that. That and he misliked the look the Queen had given her earlier. No doubt she had hoped to be Aquitaine's Duchess instead. A pity for her there was only one Duchess that could call Aquitaine hers, and that was his grandmother. Still, Isabelle did appear as if she had plenty of appetite, and a willingness to fight for what was not hers by right.

Soon or later, he suspected there would be conflict between Isabelle and himself. If kings were difficult to manage, then queens were even more so.

Shaken from his reverie, the Duke of Aquitaine seated himself and gestured for his council to approach, as the great hall had been emptied of all other courtiers save for guards whose loyalty to Eleanor could not be questioned, and thus they would serve the grandson as well. Several of his knights flanked him then, ever present and ever prepared to defend their master.

His Lord Constable, the Sheriff of Royan, a fellow by the name of Girard, bowed first. Earl Alias of Perigord presented himself next, as his chief administrator and Lord Steward. The Prince-Bishop of Agen remained seated, as aged as he was, while a younger peer of his came forward. Guiraud, the Bishop of St. Jean d'Angely, bowed deep as well before speaking. "Your Grace, as ever we are joyous to see you return."

Philip smiled before looking around. "And the Lady Eleanor?" As his regent here in Poitiers, she had taken on the most duties for herself, intent on ensuring her grandson a strong foundation to build on, thus far she had served as an unofficial chancellor of sorts.

Instead, one of his household knights, Robert de Longchamp, stepped forward. A nephew of the same William de Longchamp that had served Richard as his chief administrator and regent before being overthrown by the King's magnates, though unlike his uncle, Robert had taken the prudent step of regarding himself English and not Norman. "In her room and resting. She is unwell, my lord. The physician believes it her time soon. She has requested to see you as soon as possible."

The Duke sighed. He was afraid of this. She had aged quite terribly the last few years, ever since the death of her beloved son. As a sign of her deep mourning for Richard, Eleanor had become a nun, though she was adamant about remaining in Poitiers until she accounted Philip prepared.

"I see. I go to see her now, my councilors. We will convene once I have returned."

With that, the Duke made the trip to his grandmother's room, accompanied by both Bishop Bertrand and Robert de Longchamp, as well as his squire Guillaume. He knocked on the door then, which a servant soon opened and excused herself upon his entry. The others remained outside.

"Grandmother," Philip smiled.

"Philip," Eleanor sighed wearily, though there was a spark of pleasure in seeing her grandson home safely. "I trust you have accomplished all that we hoped?"

Pulling up a seat, the Duke sat down beside Eleanor and nodded. "Yes, grandmother. I have presented myself to my uncle and won his approval. He has accepted me as his vassal and has already named me to his council as advisor."

Eleanor gave him a look then. "So soon? I suspect something..."

Philip nodded. "The Marshal," he explained, "I caught the look your son gave him behind his back."

"Of course," Eleanor sighed. "Poor William. My son has never liked him, though he was ever the faithful subject. If he has named you to his council, I think he plans to put William in his place and to demonstrate to all his authority. He will have little luck, however. William Marshal has never been a man to allow his foes strike him down freely. John clearly seeks your assistance in this matter, but..."

The Duke smiled. "I understand. I will aid the Marshal as best as I am able. He was loyal to you and to my father. That is enough for me. And mayhap he will make a most useful ally as well."

Eleanor gave him a weak smile. "Yes, he will. You have learned well, Philip."

"I had the best teacher, grandmother."

The Duke looked to the door then. "They tell me that the physician believes you will leave us soon."

Eleanor nodded. "I feel my time coming to an end. Do not mourn it too much, Philip. I have wanted to go for a long time now. Ever since Richard... But you will do fine, Philip. I have faith in you. You've learned much and you've great potential. Your knights love you as Richard's knights loved him. Keep their loyalty and their love, and you will surmount all challenges. You will need a Lord Chancellor of your own as well. Keep an eye out for talents."

Philip nodded. "Yes, grandmother."

"With an attentive eye, the talents of this world are countless. With an open mind and sound judgment, you will find no shortage of capable men to serve. But always, always be on your guard against the ambition of others. They will seek to use you as you use them, and when you are of no further use, they will betray you, Philip."

He could see that she was growing increasingly tired. She would need her rest now. As much as possible. Philip excused himself and stood up then, making for the door. Behind him, he could hear her saying one thing more.

"In a world of men... Be a lion."

---

Poitiers, the Palace of the Counts of Poitou
The First of April, in the Year of our Lord 1204

"Eleanor of Aquitaine is dead." The chamberlain reported, as Philip sat in his great hall.

The Duke of Aquitaine sighed. Now he was the master of Aquitaine in spirit as well as title. How strange it felt, to be in a world without Eleanor of Aquitaine, she who had the greatest impact in his short life thus far. No... She was second only to his own royal sire, the Lionheart.

"Thank you," Philip began, then he fell silent for several moments. When he did find his voice again, the Duke gestured his chamberlain forward. "She is to be interred at Fontevraud Abbey, alongside her royal husband and her son. I want mass to be said for her in every church, abbey, and monastery in Aquitaine. Send a message to King Philippe, requesting his permission for a funeral procession to be made into Anjou, under his protection. And another message to King John, informing him of his mother's death and my deep sorrow at his loss."

He sighed then. It was strange. He was now his own man, master of his own fate. No longer would he have her precious wisdom nor her sound counsel to rely on. Now he would have to make do with the advice of lesser men. He would have to be truly careful now, he knew.

"We will also have a fair this summer as well." The Duke continued, "Eleanor of Aquitaine was an extraordinary woman, an extraordinary mother, and a better grandmother than I ever deserved. She had no cause to love me yet she did, despite my bastardy. I would have her life celebrated."

"Yes, your Grace." The chamberlain bowed. "And on the behalf of all of us, my Duke... We feel heartfelt grief for you and your loss."

Philip nodded, grateful for the chamberlain's message. As sad as he felt, Philip understood then that he was not the only one who suffered now. All of them had loved Eleanor.

With the chamberlain's dismissal, Philip gestured for Robert de Longchamp to approach him. "I understand that there is a message from Beatritz d'Albon, the Gravin of Valentinois?"

Robert nodded then, beckoning forth another man who soon joined him before the Duke. "Sire, this is Alexandre de Bourgogne."

Alexandre gave the Duke a bow then. "My greetings, your Grace. It is a great honor to be welcomed inside your magnificent hall, though I must express my condolences at the loss of Eleanor of Aquitaine. She was truly a beauteous and talented woman and her passing leaves this world even more wretched." Philip nodded his thanks. "Gravin Beatritz has heard out your grandmother's proposal and has given it considerable thought."

The Duke gave Alexandre all of his attention then. This had been one of the last things his grandmother had been most concerned about. It was crucial, she insisted, that he found the best possible wife. And there had been a few choices. Alix of Brittany for one. Though she was young, she would have brought the kingdom of the Bretons to their marriage as a dowry. There were also the daughters of Geoffrey of Brittany, Eleanor's own son. Marrying one of them would have given him a stronger claim to the throne of England in spite of his bastardy, as well as given him a claim to Brittany as well. Flandina de Belesme and Mahaut de Courtenay were also attractive choices but they would have also given Philippe greater influence over the Duke. William Marshal also had daughters of his own but... As loyal and faithful as the Marshal was, he was only recently made an Earl.

It had been imperative for Philip to father sons of his own. Even with her death, the urgency had not lessened any. Philip understood his father's failings well enough. And he was determined to not make the same mistake.

In the end, Eleanor's choice had fallen upon Marguerite de Bourgogne, the daughter of Beatriz of Valentinois as well as the deceased Duc of Bourgogne itself. Her family was quite fertile and she brought with her both prestige and claims. And she was nearly of marriageable age as well, which made her an attractive option.

Alexandre smiled as he presented a scroll to the Duke. "Beatritz has agreed to your grandmother's proposal."

Philip nodded in return. "I am well glad to hear of her decision, and I look forward to the day I meet my bride. Please return whenever you are prepared and inform her mother of my gratitude. Perhaps one day Aquitaine and Valentinois may be more than friends." He smiled, knowing that Alexandre would catch the allusion to an offer of alliance.

Alexandre bowed deep before excusing himself. Philip returned his attention to Robert then. "What think you of him?"

"Alexandre?" Robert de Longchamp looked back at the retreating courtier, then at his Duke. "A fine man, I suppose. Friendly, well spoken, and he understands the ways of the court. Though, I suspect he is rather ambitious himself, and greedy for his own inheritance."

The Duke tilted his head then. "Ah, yes... He would be brother to the Duc of Bourgogne now. And the Duc hasn't any children of his own yet. No doubt he hopes his brother perishes soon enough. It is a common tale as of late, is it not?" Philip grinned and his courtiers laughed in return. "Go with him, Robert. Inform him that I judge him a talented man and would be pleased if he found it in himself to call Aquitaine home. I am, after all, in need of a Lord Chancellor." Robert smiled and bowed then, taking off after the heir to Bourgogne.

"That explains all the flattery. No doubt he hopes to claim his inheritance, either by an assassin's knife or by the strength of Aquitaine's arms. He will find himself disappointed in the latter, but until then... I shall make use of him and his talents." Philip smiled, amused at how obvious the man was. At the very least, King Philippe was upfront about his intentions. In the end, he knew Alexandre would come over to him. Perhaps it would take some convincing. Perhaps it would take some gold. But Alexandre would soon be in his employ.

It was simply a matter of time.

 

[BlackZeroX987]

Liking it so far. Which version of the game are you using and what dlc slash mods?

Glad you're enjoying it so far!

Let's see, I haven't updated HIP in a while now, so I'm not entirely sure if it's the most up to date version. I'll have to check soon! Other mods I'm using are... Unique Buildings, Battle Captives, and ah, Revoke All Titles Decisions, for an earlier attempt at setting up the game, but it didn't quite turn out as well as I had hoped. So really, just Unique Buildings and Battle Captives, along with HIP.

 

[Nuada Airgetlám]

Philip has had to come into his own. He has not stumbled thus far.

 

[stnylan]

She set his feet upon the path.

But he now has to walk it alone.

 

[Idhrendur]

The stage is now set. And our protagonist looks to be a shrewd one, as well.

 

[BlackZeroX987]

Philip has had to come into his own. He has not stumbled thus far.

A fair assessment, yes. He has only just left Eleanor's tutelage so he's still cautious. But whenever that caution lasts or not, it remains to be seen!

She set his feet upon the path.

But he now has to walk it alone.

Eleanor has certainly done the best she could, but it's definitely come down to his own natural ability and what he's learned from his grandmother from this point on. English politics is brutal enough on its own, certainly. But with a powerful French king looming tall over the Duchy of Aquitaine, things are... Complicated, to say in the least.

The stage is now set. And our protagonist looks to be a shrewd one, as well.

Shrewd, yes. But certainly not as shrewd as his grandmother was. The real question is... Is our protagonist wily enough to tangle with the likes of Philippe Augustus? And even then, the King has a strong heir of his own in his son Louis. Handling John is one thing, but the Capetians? That is quite perhaps a difficult order to fill out!

 

[BlackZeroX987]

Of Men and Lions
An Aquitaine HIP AAR​

~​

Chapter Three​

"His courage, cunning, energy, and patience made him the most remarkable man of his time."​

- Ali Ibn al-Athir, al-Kamil fi at-Tarikh​

Poitiers, the Palace of the Counts of Poitou
The Nineteenth of May, in the Year of our Lord 1204

Duke Philip, sitting comfortably in his chair at the head of a long table within his private quarters, stared down at the piece of parchment in his hands. The situation was not good at all. Despite his promise to his grandmother, he had found it difficult, almost impossible, to shield the Marshal from John's rancor.

Within the space of a single month, the Earl of Pembroke had been dismissed from the royal council, had been stripped of royal favor, and sent retreating to his holdings in Wales.

The Marshal was a great man.

And this was as humiliating as it could get for a great man, to rise so high only to be cast aside and brought low. Philip sighed as he went over the letter again, this time for the benefit of his council who had come to his quarters as soon as they were summoned. "The Earl of Pembroke has been made a vassal to the Duchess of Glamorgan."

And now, there were rumors that some among the aristocracy in Ireland now conspired to rob his wife of her own holdings there and diminish the Marshal even further in exchange for John's gratitude, whatever form it may take for them.

He looked around at the men that made up his council. The newest addition sat directly to his left, his new Lord Chancellor, Alexandre de Bourgogne. Alexandre, before returning to relay the message to the Gravin of Valentinois, had hesitated for a time before agreeing to take up the post and serve Philip. Next to him, the Sheriff of Royan sat quietly as his Lord Constable, though Philip could tell that the Occitan was more loyal to the memory of Eleanor than to her grandson. That would change or the position would go to someone else.

Robert de Longchamp perhaps, he had proven himself loyal so far.

Next came the Earl of Perigord, who dutifully served as Lord Steward though it was clear that he did not bear much love for the Lionheart's bastard. On his right, the ever loyal Bertrand de Ventadour, his chief councilor now that Eleanor was gone and the master of his spies. And beside him, Guiraud, a young protege of Bertrand's and a learned man who had just recently been made his Court Chaplain.

Other than them, his commanders held seats at the table as well, Robert de Longchamp among them. An old friend of his, Henry Howe, had been made a commander recently, along with Guilhem, a kinsman of the famed Mercadier who had so loyally served Richard the Lionheart then Eleanor of Aquitaine after him.

It was a pity that old Mercadier was dead now, having passed on only recently as well. He had found the old man quite clever and could certainly use his advice as well now, but he would make do.

Philip could see that most of them shared in his disappointment toward John's treatment of one of the realm's greatest magnates. If the Marshal was not safe, then who was? He only regretted that he could not have done more to aid William of Pembroke, but it would have been suicidal to do so by standing against John, especially so early on and without much support. "I want a message sent to the Marshal, reminding him of both my grandmother's affection for him and the respect my father had for him, and inform him that he still has friends at court."

His secretary began scribbling down a letter, with the Duke dictating in full his message. Once he had finished, he read it before handing it back to the secretary. The man would prepare the letter for sealing and find a suitable messenger, he knew.

The Duke brought up another piece of parchment. "During my time at the royal court, I have been in correspondence with my uncle, the Earl of Wiltshire. Because of the Marshal's treatment, he has finally agreed to the necessity of an alliance between the two of us."

Philip glanced over at Bertrand, the Prince-Bishop of Agen. "We have a friend at court, who will also appear a friend to the King as well. However, I do not feel inclined to trust my uncle any more than I trust the other one." After all, William Longspee had chosen to support John early on. Whenever it was out of loyalty or necessity remained to be see. "I think it would be wise if we were to have friends of our own in the Earl's court as well."

The elderly man nodded. "I agree. There is always someone willing to... Share whatever rumors they may hear, especially when gold exchange hands." The Duke smiled. That was certainly true, and he knew it applied to his own household as well. Yet another thing to be careful about.

"Now, how goes my royal uncle's preparations?"

Bertrand sighed. "Unfortunately... Despite our king's preparations for the invasion of Normandy, Philippe of France seems to be making much progress in his own preparations for war. His lords are all gathering in Paris, while the King fortifies his garrisons in Normandy and Anjou, no doubt a precaution in case he must fight on two fronts. His son, Louis, is traveling south, on the pretext of meeting with the Count of Toulouse. However..."

The Duke nodded in return. "He's coming for Aquitaine. I do not know if I entirely believe everything Philippe said, but I do believe he was quite honest about his desire for Aquitaine and me. He wants me to march alongside him."

The spymaster shrugged. "Then it may be a gambit of Philippe's. By sending an army into Aquitaine, he keeps you in check. And if you take him up on his offer... Between the Prince's forces and your own levies, Aquitaine is as good as his, as will be Poitou."

"It's a clever plan, in any case. Unfortunate for him, I was quite sincere when I said I would not betray my king." The Duke sighed, pressing his hands together. "Perhaps he thinks by bringing an army into Aquitaine, it will prevent me from joining forces with John. And once he wins... He will have me as well."

Bertrand nodded in agreement. "And he looks poised to win, your Grace. I estimate that John may raise as much as twenty thousand men, maybe. Philippe has raised nearly that much already, in addition to perhaps another ten thousand."

Robert de Longchamp whistled then. "Thirty thousand? A formidable force, to be sure."

"Thirty thousand, perhaps thirty five thousand," Bertrand confirmed. "But yes, all the same, Philippe is the stronger of the two kings in this conflict to come.

Philip chuckled aloud. "We have known that from the start, have we not? It was John's weakness that lost us Normandy, after all. But I'll not lose Aquitaine because of him. Let them come. Philippe or Louis, it matter not who. Let them step into the lion's den, if they have the courage to."

Berkshire, the Royal Castle of Windsor
The Third of June, in the Year of our Lord 1204

"War has come," The Vicomte of Carlat stated simply, upon reading the message he had just received. "Philippe of France has struck first." He looked up at John then, as did everyone else in the chamber. The King, surrounded by his war council and his commanders and knights, appeared frozen. As if he were caught off guard. Philip shook his head, knowing that it did not do to show your lords and servants any indecision.

It would be taken as a sign of weakness.

"God's wounds!" John finally shouted as he slammed the table, covered by maps of Normandy and France. All of his preparations for the invasion, useless!

The Duke of Aquitaine, along with the Earl of Wiltshire and their supporters, remained silent amidst the chaotic re-planning that came, redirecting troops and the hurried dictating of letters, as well as a frenzy of messengers that came and went. There was little for them to do now, not when they held so little influence on the council. No, the war planning was now dominated by two men; the Vicomte of Carlat, Gui, and to a lesser extent, the King of England himself.

From what Philip could understand, the bulk of Philippe's army had massed in Normandy, scattered along her coast, no doubt intending to lure John into an ambush where he could break the English army and force yet another treaty down the craven fool's throat. And true to Bertrand's report, Prince Louis and the Count of Toulouse had crossed the border into Aquitaine proper, at the head of five thousand men.

William Longsword looked to his side, eyeing his brother's bastard. "What think you of all this, nephew?"

Philip sighed. "If this is a sample of the years and the wars yet to come, then I think we are well and truly in the shit."

The Earl grinned, amused. "Well said. Were it Richard, he would have struck long before this and left Philippe pissing all over himself."

His nephew smiled in return. "Yes, my father would have." He looked around then, ensuring that no one unwanted was listening in on their conversation. It would have done little to endear him to his royal uncle. "A pity we serve a fool of an king now."

William nodded. "And Philippe is no fool."

Philip had to concede the point. "Truly. He has taken back Normandy, and now he will have Poitou."

The Earl looked back at him then. "Yes, if he wins, he will have taken much of your lands." And there was a look in his eyes that revealed more. William smiled as he turned his back to the council planning England's reprisal. "Something tells me Philippe wants more than just Poitiers and Aunis. I remember well how he treated my father's sons as dear friends, only to turn them against each others."

Philip returned the gaze, revealing nothing in return.

"I think he would sacrifice Poitiers and Aunis to win over the Duke of Aquitaine." The Earl went on. "After all, some would say that as Richard's son, you have a stronger claim to England's throne. And John's lords much dislike him... No doubt, they would find that they may stomach you better than your uncle."

"I do not doubt that, uncle." Philip smiled then, "But if they think me a better choice, it is only because they think me weak and ignorant."

"And you are not?" The Earl countered.

"It would be a difficult task, to be weaker than..." He gestured toward the King then.

And the Earl laughed aloud. "It pleases this old fool to see that my brother's cub has plenty of fire to him!" He stepped forward then, calling upon the council for attention then. "If Philippe has sent his son into Aquitaine, let her Duke defend her!"

John peered up then, locking gaze with his newest advisor. "And does her Duke wish to defend her? He is young still, and Philippe's son is a formidable foe."

Philip straightened up then. "Your Majesty, I thank you for your concern, but... Your mother was the finest teacher I could have asked for, and she taught me well how to defend my lands." The Duke approached the table then, joining the rest of the war council. "Give me leave, uncle. I would defend Aquitaine and all else that is rightfully yours, even from the likes of this French whelp that calls himself a prince."

The King's spymaster spoke up then. "I think it wise, your Majesty. Were his Grace to rout Louis and his men, it would distract Philippe from his perch, allowing us an opening with which to strike."

And the Vicomte of Carlat, suddenly realizing that the focus was no longer on Normandy and alarmed at the prospect of a bastard taking all the glory away from him, straightened himself. "A clever notion, to be sure!" He turned his attention to his king then. "Your Majesty, allow me to accompany the boy. Together, our levies will be more than enough to rout Prince Louis."

Surprised at the support from the Vicomte of Carlat, Philip wondered what he was really after but he wasn't willing to let the opportunity pass him by. "Your Marshal is correct, uncle." He looked over the map of France then and tapped where Aunis was. "The harbor here, La Rochelle. We can disembark from there and place ourselves between Louis and any possible reinforcements from his father, crush them piecemeal."

And Gui smiled, seeing where the boy was going, "Then march northward to reinforce you from behind Philippe!"

King John waved everyone else down, demanding silence. He looked from Philip to Gui, then back to his nephew. "You are confident you can best Louis?"

The Duke of Aquitaine smirked. "He is only a man, uncle. And I am your lion. Unleash me and I will devour him."

John laughed aloud then, amused by the fire in his nephew. "Go then! You have much to accomplish!"

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Time to make a name for yourself outside of Richards shadow. Might even get a title out of this, if you're lucky.

 

[stnylan]

Poor William Marshall to be do discarded. John is not worthy of service, but even so if one does not wish to be a plaything of the French...