#king baldwin fandom

[speef115]

"King Baldwin was the most courteous, the most valiant, and the most virtuous prince ever known in the world. Although he was leprous, he did not for that reason cease to govern his kingdom wisely, and to make war on the Saracens, and to fight against them manfully, as though he had been sound in body."

Credits: Ambroise, Chronicle of the Third Crusade

[hydravns]

Baldwin IV of Jerusalem The Leper King in KINGDOM OF HEAVEN (2005) Dir. Ridley Scott

[flowerandblood]

White Marriage (2)

[ Kingdom of Heaven • King Baldwin x female ]

[ warnings: fingering, virginity loss, sex content, poetic smut, angst, a detailed description of the deadly disease and the unpleasant symptoms associated with it ]

[ description: After their nuptials, the court becomes even more divided. The King, however, wishes to spend the last years of his life experiencing the joys he finds in the closeness of his wife. His bride was never to lose her maidenhood, however, is what the King has proclaimed to his subjects what he really craves? ]

Author’s Note: After the warm reception of the first part, which I didn't expect at all, here is the second part of their story! I have to admit that I had a great time writing it and I love them. I tried to leave some realism and not forget about his illness and the fact that it is contagious.

Part Two of Paradise Fruit. Can be read as a standalone story.

Word count: 4.600

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Their nuptials were humble – apart from the Archbishop, who gave them his blessing, uniting them for eternity, they were accompanied only by Sibylla and her husband, enraged, thinking that the King was just fulfilling his sneaky plan.

He truly believed that he would have exposed her to such danger, condemning her to the cruel disease that tormented his members to try to beget an heir.

She was grateful to her Princess for lending her one of her beautiful, gold-embellished robes that day – Sibylla knew what purpose this marriage was intended to serve and that it would not change the order of succession.

She was to be his comfort, a moment of relief and solace, nothing more.

Nevertheless, she smiled, feeling happiness filling her heart, her king's gaze tender and full of affection, from which she felt warmth in her chest.

She thought that she had fallen in love with him.

Their marriage was announced to all and sundry, and she became a king's wife, but not a queen.

She was not bothered by this.

She was assigned a chamber right next to his – she could now visit him whenever she wished and did not have to worry about the King's honour.

As she walked into his quarters, clad only in a thin night robe, a smile of happiness adorned her face. Baldwin, though tired, also seemed pleased and rose at the sight of her.

"Wife." He said, entwining his hands behind his back.

His figure was all clad in white as usual, though the material of his wardrobe seemed thicker to her, a silver mask on his face.

To her surprise she noticed that his gloves were black, apparently made of leather.

She bowed to him, recognising that she was not intending to think about it now.

"My King. My husband. You are the man of your word." She whispered warmly, looking up at him from above her long lashes, feeling a pleasant tickle in her lower abdomen meeting his gaze, hot and dark.

"I am." He replied. "I couldn't deny myself this pleasure. It was an act of my selfishness, not my greatness."

She blinked, cocking her head, feeling for some reason amused by his words.

"Does it matter now?" She asked lightly – something flashed across his gaze, she thought he smiled.

"No. Not in the slightest."

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his orders – he had announced that because of his disease he would not take her maidenhood and their marriage would be white, however, after what had gone on between them earlier, she did not think her husband would want to remain an ascetic in every aspect.

"Let me see you." He said finally, his voice like a sigh.

She knew what he meant, she knew what he wanted – she could see it in his gaze. Her hands rose to the small knot above her breasts, untying it, slipping the thin material of her nightgown off her shoulders in a light, gentle motion, remaining bare before him.

She shuddered, feeling the chill of the chamber surround her body despite the flames burning in the fireplace beside her, her lips parted as she noticed her king's gaze shift, misty and filled with a familiar, hot desire.

For a moment he looked at her with his head tilted, as if he was simply admiring her, nothing more.

"My physicians have said that the leather material, as opposed to linen, will ensure that you are protected from the touch of my bare skin and what it may cause." He said, tentatively extending his hand to her, and she felt her heart thump harder in her chest with joy.

She could touch him.

They both drew in a loud breath as she placed her fingers on his palm, letting him pull her a little closer, the spot between her thighs all swollen with desire, slowly growing moist with her wetness.

Her lips parted with her gasp of surprise as his other hand touched her cheek – she snuggled her face into it, placing affectionate kisses of her lips on it.

"I would give all the treasures of this chamber, my possessions and my gold coins to feel the taste of your lips on mine." He gasped, looking at her as if she were a precious jewel, a spring water that quenches thirst, an olive tree that feeds whole nations.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the sizzling fire and their hitched breaths as his thumb ran over her full, lower lip. She parted it before him and let him slide it deeper, between her teeth. Her lips clamped slowly around his finger, looking up at him with desire as she began to suck.

A low groan escaped his throat at the sight, clearly imagining that he was forcing something completely different down her throat.

He placed his other hand on her back, at the same time pulling her closer and holding her at arm's length, apparently afraid that even his breath was dangerous to her, possibly dooming her to his fate.

She moaned when he gave in, when his mask pressed against her forehead, his eyelids all red around his bright pupils.

"– forgive me –"

She didn't know why his words, filled with so much sadness and desire, made her throw her hands on his shoulders, her lips clinging greedily to the unpleasantly cold, silver structure of his mask.

She closed her eyes, hearing his gasp of surprise, placing lingering, hot kisses full of her saliva and tongue on the surface of it, imagining he was able to feel it, his hands sinking into her hair.

"– touch me, husband – I crave you –" She mewled helplessly, running her hands over the material beneath which was his head, his hair, his jaw and neck.

She squealed when he lifted her suddenly by her buttocks, the quiet hiss that escaped his lips made her understand that this sudden movement must have caused him pain.

She stroked the back of his head as he moved towards his bed with his face nestled between her breasts, not wanting to show him any sympathy now that he wanted to be a strong man in her eyes.

He let out a breath as he laid her down on the soft sheets, his gaze full of tenderness as he looked at her face.

"– lie on your stomach and spread your thighs –" He said calmly and gently, however, something in his words and their undertone made her feel a heat in her lower abdomen and a wonderful tickling sensation.

She obeyed his command immediately, feeling her legs become stiff as he caught her around the waist and lifted her hips, forcing her to buck her buttocks in front of him in a shameless manner.

She heard his heavy breath as he positioned himself behind her on his knees, running his leather-gloved hands over the soft skin of her buttocks, herself panting hard, knowing where he was looking now.

"– the reason why Paris abducted Helen of Troy – the cause of the downfall and delight of all mankind locked deep between my wife's thighs –" He whispered in such a sensual way that she moaned pathetically, clenching her eyelids as his thumb ran over her leaking, throbbing womanhood.

Apparently he liked the sound she made, because one of his hands slid into her hair, holding her in place, reassuring him that she wouldn't take advantage of his weakness and try to expose him in an act of pleasure, endangering him and herself.

"– lie still – shhhh, my love –" He whispered, hearing her innocent cry of desperation as his fingers began to trail around her oversensitive, swollen bud, waves of tingling and tickling sensations spreading through her body dulling her mind, causing her to emit uncontrollable sounds.

She could hear him panting as she watched what he was doing to her, his fingers digging into her delicate folds with a loud click of her wetness, barely teasing her – her hips began to roll back and forth, responding to his treatments, trying to find a better source of rubbing.

"– have mercy on me –" She mumbled with difficulty, her lips parted wide in a girlish moan when, at her request, the tip of his middle finger burst into her fleshy, hot interior.

The experience was at once full of discomfort and delight – at first the material of his glove was cold, but in time her body temperature enveloped him with its heat.

"– God – so warm –" He whispered in a voice trembling with emotion, in some involuntary, primitive reflex forcing her to take his finger deeper inside her, meeting resistance.

"– yes or no –" He breathed out, making her gasp.

Yes or no.

She froze, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, knowing that he had lied: he had only declared their marriage as white so that after his death his sister's husband would not attempt to kill her out of fear that she might be carrying his heir.

The future King.

"– yes –"

Her fingers clenched on the fabric of the sheet beneath her as he pierced something inside her in one aggressive motion, along with her squeal taking her maidenhood.

She began to wriggle under him with sweet whimpers of delight as his first finger was joined by a second, opening her wide for him only to fuck her before his eyes.

Tears of pleasure and shock ran down her cheeks as she moaned like a mere whore, spreading her thighs wider, his fingers thicker and longer than hers, stretching her so wonderfully.

"– please –" She whimpered, responding with her hips to each thrust of his hand, the tips of his fingers hitting the sweet spot deep inside her with startling precision again and again, while his thumb teased her little pearl between her folds with reluctance.

She bucked up more, panting loudly along with him, feeling the drops of her own wetness begin to run down her thighs one by one, soaking his hand, the fingers of his free palm clenched in her hair.

"– go on – please your King –" He commanded in a low voice from which her weeping cunt clenched around his fingers in convulsions of ecstasy, the sweet, stupefying pleasure making her cry out loudly, her legs bent at the knees quivering all over from the exertion.

"– a-ah –" She mumbled out, her face red with emotion as her body shook with a fulfilment so strong that her leaking, hot walls began to simply suck him inside. He felt it and moaned in a boyish manner, stopping moving, keeping his two fingers slipped deep into her body, just wanting to feel how it pulsed around them.

"– yes – just like that – easy now – easy –" He praised her, slowly sliding them out of her, and she swallowed hard, letting her body fall back onto the bed, panting loudly.

She sighed as he turned her onto her back and spread her thighs, looking at her with eyes black with desire, his hand slipped under the material of his robe.

Only then did she notice that his garment had a slit in the area underneath where his manhood was.

Although he had not allowed her to look at it then, now that he had grasped it in his hand and directed it at her throbbing womanhood, she saw the fat, pink head of it, dripping with his desire.

His hand clamped down on her soft breast, careful, however, not to cause her pain as he began to squeeze his swollen erection in his palm, with sharp, aggressive strokes from the very base to the tip chasing his fulfilment.

She moaned innocently, surprised, tilting her head back as his thumb ran over her hard, sensitive nipple, playing with it, something like satisfaction flashed through his gaze when he saw that this kind of touch was giving her pleasure.

"– my wife is so eager – so devoted to her poor husband – hm? –" He gasped, his breathing heavy as he accelerated, already squeezing only the base of his manhood, rocking his hips back and forth, struggling to restrain himself from opening her up, from sinking into her, from feeling her.

She rolled her hips forward encouragingly, rubbing her moist cunt against the thick head of his erection, drawing a low, almost animalistic groan from his throat, his silhouette moving slightly away.

"– no –" He growled with pain and anger, involuntarily returning again and again to her warmth, letting the tip of it push against her swollen, thirsty slit.

"– please, my King – put inside me –" She begged, but he shook his head and simply came with a loud moan of pleasure, his pearly, sticky spend spewing onto her womanhood.

He stared at this shameless sight, his head bowed low, his breath heavy as if he had just accomplished some heroic feat.

"– you need to bathe in hot water – immediately – dress yourself, I'll call the servants –" He exclaimed, rising abruptly from the bed, covering his manhood back with his robe, wiping his hand sticky with her wetness into its material.

She stood up quickly, horrified that he was surely angry with her for not listening to him, hastily dressing her nightgown over her shoulders, bursting into sobs.

"– forgive me, my King – forgive me, do not send me away –" She begged, but he did not listen to her, ordering his servant to immediately bring the tub into his chamber and fill it with hot water.

Although it slightly burned her skin when she stepped inside, her husband-king explained that the heat killed whatever was spreading his disease, and the oils and herbs that were thrown in were to prevent any other infections.

She looked at him with big eyes as he sat beside her, dipping his leather-gloved hand into the water along with a piece of cloth, sinking it then between her thighs, making sure not a single drop of his seed remained on it.

"– will you forgive me, my beloved? –" She muttered pleadingly, watching his face. He looked at her with a chastising look and sighed heavily.

"– it is I who should beg your forgiveness – I have allowed myself to be carried away by my desires, which have suppressed my reason – do not fear, it will not happen again – after your bath you will return to your chamber and will no longer visit me in the evenings –" He said calmly, looking away.

Her heart stopped in her throat, her brow arching in pain and disbelief at his words.

"Are you sending me away?" She muttered with difficulty. He looked at her, surprised apparently by her question and reaction, his hand froze in mid-motion.

"You can't sleep here because I am here. My breath, my proximity are deadly. I am exposing you even now. Before sleep, my physicians pull off most of the fabric that covers my body. I will never let you see this." He said and swallowed hard, seeing as tears one by one began to run down her cheeks.

"You break my heart. At least let my bed be placed next to yours. Drape it with curtains so that I may not see you or your body at night, but that I may at least hear your voice, hear your presence in the same chamber." She said pleadingly, touching his beautiful silver mask with her hand, his gaze tired and sad, filled with pain.

He hesitated.

"The chamber is not locked. Place my bed by the windows, by the fresh air. Do not condemn me to solitude, show me mercy, my King." She whispered, once again placing a kiss on his mask, on his cold, silver lips, his sigh testifying that he pressed his lips on the other side, reciprocating her caress.

"You are my doom."

At his command, her bed was moved to his chamber, raising voices full of resentment from some of the monks and priests, commenting on the fact that her maidenhood might be called into question.

"White marriage, to my knowledge, does not mean that husband and wife live separately. On the contrary, we should indulge in prayers together and be each other's comfort by day and night."

Honour Knights and Lords were concerned about what kind of comfort his little wife was to him.

Each day, the physicians sent by King Saladin checked the condition of her body and whether there were any signs of infection – her husband watched it from the sidelines in horror, relief in his gaze each time he heard from their lips that his wife was in good health.

However, taking advantage of the fact that the King had left the chamber after her examination, returning to his duties, one of his medics approached her, pale.

"My Lady. Spending so much time in the King's company, you will certainly contract his disease. Often its first symptoms do not appear until years after infection. It is possible that it is already too late." He muttered, bowing before her.

She swallowed loudly, looking at him calmly, feeling discomfort in her stomach.

"Would my husband live to see the time when the first symptoms could be apparent? If it turned out I was infected." She mumbled, and he shook his head.

"No, my Lady."

She smiled at his words and nodded.

"Thank you. Assure my King that I am well and can abide with him as before."

The man looked at her, in his eyes disbelief but at the same time a kind of admiration, compassion and warmth from which she felt a squeeze in her throat.

"My Lady."

The days in Jerusalem were often sunny and hot, and as her husband rejoiced at the sight of her bare body, she walked around his chambers naked, feeling like a Greek goddess, Aphrodite or Artemis.

She would read old volumes, play the lute or embroider while spreading out comfortably on large cushions so that he could see her, and he would admire her from afar like a nymph.

"– my wife is like a fruit of paradise – like a goddess born of the sea foam –" He murmured, looking at her contentedly, bent over the dozens of parchments spread out on his table.

The servants knew that they could not enter his quarters without permission, for although he was gentle and affectionate in his manner, he did not wish to share this shameless sight with anyone.

However, what most of their days consisted of were conversations.

Her husband was a great speaker – they were discussing the Bible, faith, philosophy, poetry, art, war and history for long hours.

At nights, when he couldn't sleep from his pain, hearing his sighs and quiet moans that he tried to suppress for her sake, she would ask him questions.

She couldn't touch his hands or embrace him – his body needed rest, to breathe to keep from rotting and for at least a few hours a day it was supposed to be uncovered.

"Christ says to the adulteress: go and sin no more. However, he knows, as God incarnate, that this is not his command, but a recommendation. Sin is the fatal disease of every human being and we all sin in thought, in speech, in deed, in neglect. This is no reason to be sad. Christ is merely saying: live in such a way as not to cause yourself or others suffering, try to live with dignity, in harmony with yourself and your Father in Heaven."

"Is it known what happened to her afterwards?" She asked quietly, looking at his silhouette, seeing only its outline on the other side of his bed.

"Some identify her with Mary Magdalene or Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus. But it could also have been a person not mentioned by name in the Gospel. She certainly followed Christ and became one of his disciples." He said, his voice clearer without his mask, calm and soft.

"Do you think God considers me an adulteress?" She asked in a trembling voice and heard him shift restlessly in his bed.

"Why should such an unjust and harsh judgment fall on my wife? Because she is devoted to me with her soul, heart and body? Haven't you done everything I asked of you and even more? You are as pure as the sheet I lie on, as the delicate fabrics I wear on my skin. Your beauty makes me even more aware of my ugliness." He whispered with pain that made her swallow hard, shocked by his words.

"To me, you are the most beautiful of men. Before I met you, I swore to God that I would never marry, that I would not share Sibylla's fate. He showed me mercy, filling my heart with a burning feeling for you, my beloved."

He was silent, but she heard him exhale loudly, his trembling sigh full of suffering.

He cried.

"If only you could look at my face, see what a disgusting caricature of a human I am, you would understand what a great mistake you made." He howled, choking on his own tears, clearly letting out what had been weighing on his heart for weeks.

The fear that if she accidentally saw his face, she would scream in terror and run away.

"Is your faith in me so weak? I hoped you think of me with respect." She mumbled, heartbroken, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

She heard him swallow hard at her words, clearly terrified that he had offended her.

"I do, my love. Forgive me."

"I fell in love with a human, not an earthly shell." She said, but he didn't answer her.

She watched the silhouette of her husband and his physicians each evening through the curtains, seeing them only as through a fog in the candlelight, their shadows dancing around her.

She could hear his hisses and cries of pain as they treated his wounds, see the outline of his head, always with his back turned to her.

When they were finally left alone and he lay down on his bed, she heard his sigh of relief, his face, though she couldn't see it, turned towards her.

"My sweetest?" He whispered, and she smiled warmly, feeling a wonderful delight in her heart every time he called her that.

"I'm here, my love." She murmured, twisting comfortably in her bed.

"I desire you."

She swallowed hard, feeling her warm womanhood throb around nothing.

"I desire you too, my beloved."

They were both silent for a long moment, the tension around them palpable in the air.

"– one of my physicians –" He began in a trembling voice. "– at my request, he created something that I can – put on my length so as not to touch you directly – from what I understand, he made it from the intestine of some animal and disinfected it – he assured me that it would be safe for both of us, but –"

"– yes –" She muttered, feeling her heart begin to pound like crazy at the thought that he wanted to do this to her.

"– you know it's a risk –" He said, his voice quivering with longing, the shadow of his silhouette turned towards her.

"– I knew it from the very beginning – I don't care what happens to my body – I just want to feel my beloved husband inside me –" She whispered with embarrassment and that seemed to be enough for him.

She heard him stand up, quickly putting the cloth and mask over his head as he appeared on the other side, beside her bed, looking as he usually did – the same black leather gloves on his hands, his fingers clenched on a small wooden box.

"– undress –" He commanded, and she did so, literally ripping off herself her nightgown, laying down on her stomach.

His silhouette was instantly next her, kneeling behind her buttocks, his breath hitched and quickened when she heard the rustling of something and another strange, sticky sound.

After a moment, his fingers tentatively and gently ran over her swollen, pink folds, collecting her wetness, which had already managed to trickle down her thigh.

"– no other treatments are needed – my sweet wife is leaking like a forest stream –" He hummed with delight and admiration, she felt her cheeks blush with embarrassment.

They both sighed as she felt something thick and hard begin to push against her puffy slit, opening her wide – despite her lack of preparation her cunt pulsed in delight, moist with desire.

The feeling of him deep inside her, so intense and definitive, of how hard his long, thick erection stretched her fleshy walls was shockingly pleasurable and terrifying at the same time, as if her body no longer belonged to her.

"– yes, yes, yes –" She mewled as she felt his hands clamp down on her buttocks, spreading them apart as if he were tearing a piece of fruit, another determined thrust of his hips sinking him completely into her hot core with their moans of pleasure.

"– fuck –"

She wasn't sure if he had ever cursed before, but then, as his hips immediately began to pound into her with loud slaps, nothing more than their panting, grunts and words insulting to God left his mouth.

"– we'll do it frequently – so that you can remember this feeling well – your husband deep inside your warmth –" He exhaled in a way from which her little cunt began to squeeze him greedily, sucking his erection inside, her lips parted wide in a loud, helpless whines of pleasure so strong that she had to close her eyes, her hands clenched on the bedding.

His gloved fingers dug into the delicate structure of her hips, imposing a more aggressive pace on her, his fat manhood bursting deep between her fleshy walls without slipping out of her, hitting again and again her sweet little spot.

"– yes – yes, I love you, I love you, I love you, please –" She cried out, feeling the tension in her silky womanhood reach its zenith, the pleasant tingling in her belly testifying to the fact that she was about to reach her peak with him and dreamed of nothing else.

He moaned low, slamming into her like mad, feeling her weeping core clench around his twitching length more and more, his manhood hard as a rock with desire.

"– G-God – oh, fuck, yes, yes, my sweetest, let me, ah –" He gasped in delight, coming deep inside her, filling the thin material overlying his manhood with his release.

Her eyes closed and her mouth parted wide as her peak came down on her like a thunderbolt, shaking her body with convulsions of delicious delight.

They both moaned and panted, rocking their hips for a moment more with the loud click of her slick cunt, his hands soothingly kneading the skin of her buttocks.

"– I will order more of this to be prepared – so that I can fulfil my marital duty every night –" He sighed with satisfaction.

She involuntarily smiled under her breath, looking up at him over her shoulder, the moonlight shining outside the window reflected in his mask.

"– what kind of white marriage is this? –" She asked teasingly, rolling her hips, feeling his half-soft manhood pulsate inside her again.

"– our kind – do not fret – I will explain it to God once I am before him – I will tell him that I loved my wife too much –"

_____

Author's note: Between their wedding day and this next act, weeks actually pass during which he doesn't touch her (she mentions the days spent in his company and how she is examined every day, how he watches her naked, but apart from that nothing happens between them). He is afraid that if he tries to touch her again, he won't hold back (he had already had difficulty not taking her on their wedding night), so he tried to think of something so as not to touch her directly with his manhood. Their intimacy is an act of their desperation, the pain of knowing that their marriage will last a year or two at most. The desire to touch her and feel her is as strong in him as the desire to protect her and push her away. Their love is tragic and complete to me, and she knows what she is risking (she knew from the very beginning).

[milaeryn]

Imagine if King Baldwin was married...

[multific]

Maybe In Another Life

King Baldwin IV x Reader

Warnings: Mention of smut, Illness, Mourning, Death

Summary: A short piece about a King who was doomed to die early and his Queen.

You were promised to him before either of you were even born.

You were married by the time you were 13. He was 14 years old.

And you loved him.

You loved how smart he was. How gentle and kind he was. 

Your love for him started when you began to grow older, you got used to one another.

You loved him.

Then, he started to get more and more sick. It scared you. The thought of losing him petrified you.

You tried to ignore his illness, you tried to act as if everything was fine. But you couldn't hide it for long. 

He was a strong soul, but his body was weak. 

You remember the night of your wedding when you had to consummate your marriage. It was a night you would never forget.

It was the first time you laid with him. It was the first time you felt truly loved. 

Even if you wanted to, tried to, there was only ever one time when he gave himself to you. 

You seduced him, not giving him an option, you laid in his bed, bare and presented yourself to him. It was his 16th day of birth before his illness got worse.

He began to wear the mask, never letting anyone touch him.

You loved him, it was simple yet complicated.

But you knew he loved you. 

His actions showed it to you. 

The garden he built just for you, was grand and gorgeous.

"Just like you, My Wife." he would say. "This garden will be the proof of my love for you and of your beauty for the upcoming centuries." 

How he loved your smile. 

But then, you were sitting next to him as he was taking his last breaths. Your tears falling, you couldn't control them.

"I will miss you greatly." you said as he moved his hand and allowed you to take it.

One last touch.

"I love you," he said and you smiled, allowing him to see it right as he died.

You took a deep breath and placed a kiss on his mask. 

"I love you too." you said as you broke down sobbing. 

You visited his grave daily.

In the beginning, you didn't even leave it for days.

They will crown a new King, and people will move on, but not you. 

Barely a year passed and you were lost. You had nothing and no one to live for.

You still visited your husband's grave daily, hoping he would wake up, hoping he would come back to you, but he never did.

Your mourning caused you to become sick.

In the hopes of joining your husband in the afterlife, you prayed and begged for death until the day it finally took you.

You joined him in death as you wished.

The wife of King Baldwin IV was placed to rest next to him, your rightful place, right by his side. 

Maybe in another life, you two would meet again, hopefully, that time it will be right. 

----

They say you don't remember your past life, but the feeling stays with you.

It is why a person who you know you have not met, might feel familiar. In a past life, you might have known them.

Then, there are people who claim to remember their past life. Who say they found their true love once again.

You used to laugh at those people.

But not today.

Not when you couldn't look away from him.

He stood right across the other side of the street. Occasionally, cars obstructed your view, but he was there.

With each passing car, you feared he would disappear.

But he didn't.

His eyes were glued to yours.

A familiar feeling flooded you, you knew him but you never met him.

You would remember such a handsome face, he was tall, lean yet built, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Nothing spectacular.

But he looked amazing in your eyes.

Soon, he crossed the road, and you felt your heartbeat pick up.

You didn't move as he walked closer to you.

He was even taller up close.

"My Wife." he said and it felt so right.

You have never seen this man in your life. And yet, you remembered him.

"My King." you said as tears fell from your eyes.

"I remember learning about you in history class. The Mourning Queen of the Leper King." he stepped closer, lifting his hand to your cheek, and you smiled.

"I told you before, I couldn't possibly live without you." he smiled as you leaned closer, grabbing his shirt to pull him down.

And now, you could kiss him freely.

Your past was filled with love and pain. You both will make sure that this life will be a happy one.

You both pulled away from the kiss and spoke in sync.

"I love you."

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

I have literally read all you stories and im so so impressed. Im not sure if your taking requests or if. If not than im very sorry. If yes then could you please write one where a modern doctor ends up being reborn as a Nobel princess who is about to marry king baldwin. She could then cure him.

♧ A Better Life - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: HELLO FRIENDS!!! I am back officially now!! Exams are over and the school year is done! I am so exited to be back!! Anon thank you so much for this beautiful request. This took me so long and I really hope you like it!!! This was an amazing one to return with, I hope yall enjoy it!!. As always this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy, Slight mention of blood

Y/n remembered little to nothing from that night.

Simply getting into her car late, well after the sun had set, and driving. Then the lights. Then the crash. Everything else was fuzzy. Even in her life before the crash, the only knowledge she seemed to remember was what she had learnt in medical school all those years ago.

Nothing about her beautiful rooftop apartment where she lived alone. And certainly not the crippling loneliness she dreaded returning to every night after work at the hospital.

------------------------------

Y/n’s eyes flew open and she sat up with a gasp, clutching at her pounding heart. After a few seconds of panic, she looked up at her surroundings.

There was no car, no wreckage, no blood.

Just a plush, white sheeted, four poster bed that held her trembling form. The curtains that hung around the top of the bed shrouded her view of the rest of the room, but from what she could see, an open balcony window allowed sun to shine through and into the large, beautifully decorated stone room.

Confusion soon replaced fear in the young doctor's mind. Was she in a hospital? No, it wasn't sterile enough to be a hospital. There was no beeping of machines, no bustling nurses. Something she was all too familiar with.

She tried to think back to what had happened, but all she could remember was the crash. Nothing else. Y/n pulled back the covers and cautiously stepped out of the bed. She barely got one foot on the ground before the large, wooden doors opened to reveal young woman carrying a tray with an assortment of dishes that y/n had never seen in her life.

“Good morning my lady” the young woman said with a smile, approaching y/n’s bedside.

“Good morning,” the doctor replied, trying to hide the confusion in her voice.

“I hope you are excited for today my lady, everybody in the maids chamber surely is!” the young woman said, her bright eyes practically glowing.

“I'm- excited for what?” y/n replied cautiously.

“Well your wedding of course, everybody has been anticipating this day for months now! Our kingdom will finally have a queen!” she was grinning now, y/n couldn't help but smile despite her confusion.

“Oh- yes! How could I have forgotten” the doctor said, once again attempting to hide the fact she had no idea where she was.

After the maid had left, y/n inspected the food. It looked delicious but eating was the last thing on her mind, for now. She slipped out of the bed to take a look around the room. There were books stacked on a shelf, a desk, a face washing basin and lots and lots of religious imagery, painted in typical pre-renaissance fashion.

Judging by the beautiful stone walls, she was most definitely not in the twenty-first century anymore. Nothing was boring and white. No white walls, no white marble countertops. Everything was handmade. Genuine. It was certainly a changeup from the old routine.

You see, y/n was intelligent. She always had been and on top of this, her years as a surgeon had taught her to act reasonable, calm, and logical even in the most outlandish situations.

Waking up in a different time period after a car wreck was no different.

She had to think of a plan.

“It's morning, people should be expecting me somewhere soon”. Turning to the bookshelf, y/n picked up a book and opened it. Handwritten. In Hebrew.

“That should place me somewhere in Israel, perhaps Jerusalem” she thought.

“And it's definitely before the renaissance, but after the birth of Christ”.

Placing the book back on the shelf, y/n continued to think. She had to figure out where she was and fast.

Y/n turned her attention to the other side of the room. The bed, a couch, and the open balcony doors. Approaching the balcony, y/n looked outside inspecting the area around the building she was in.

Knights. Many knights.

“Medieval “ was the first word that came to mind.

“That should place me somewhere around the 12th century-” was the last thing her mind concluded before the wooden doors opened again.

Six maids came into the room, each carrying something different. Some carried jewelry, some hairbrushes and combs, and others beautiful white fabric that appeared to be some kind of dress.

“Oh my lady, you have barely touched your breakfast!” one of them exclaimed as y/n entered the room from the balcony.

“You will need your strength for today!”

“Oh I'm terribly sorry, I forgot all about it! I was just getting some fresh air, I'm a little nervous” y/n said as calmly as she could, praying that they didn't notice something was off.

“That's alright dear” the oldest of the maids said, “it doesn't matter now because we need to get you dressed! Come, sit” she gestured to a vanity mirror and chair that y/n hadn't even noticed. 

--------------------------------

It felt like hours that the doctor sat in that chair, as the maids worked tirelessly on her hair and face. Braiding and brushing, applying makeup and finally helping her into the beautiful white dress robes.

They fit perfectly, just like a glove. As if they were made for just her and her alone.

“You look immaculate, your majesty,” one of the maids said, taking a step back to admire their future queen. Y/n smiled, for a moment forgetting her predicament.

It felt as though she had lived in this world her entire life.

“Come now darling, we don't want to keep the guests waiting!” the oldest maid said, taking the doctor's hand and leading her towards the door. Y/n followed blindly.

“This should be interesting,” she muttered.

-------------------------------

It was a short walk from her chambers to the church. There were already plenty of people waiting inside. Y/n barely had any time to think before a bouquet of flowers were shoved into her hands and she was walking down the aisle, people standing left and right staring at her.

Taking a deep breath, y/n steadied her hands and continued walking at a slow, measured pace.

“Come on y/n, this has to be the least nerve racking thing you've done all week”.

Looking up, she could see her “future husband” standing at the end of the aisle. It was strange, she couldn't see his face, he was wearing white robes and a veil that shrouded his features almost entirely. But from what she could see, it appeared he was wearing some kind of mask.

Then it all connected.

Not only had y/n taken a myriad of science and math subjects in highschool, she had also taken an ancient history class. One unit had specifically focused on the “Leper King of Jerusalem, Baldwin IV”. This must have been him.

As she approached the end of the aisle, her mind wandered to a patient she had treated with severe leprosy, contracted while he was on a tropical holiday. She remembered how much pain he had been in and her heart broke thinking about this poor king who had gone untreated for so long.

She was only snapped out of her thoughts when she came face to face with her soon to be husband. His eyes met hers and what she thought would have been a neutral feeling (since she did not yet know this man at all) turned quickly to a feeling that she had not experienced in what felt like years.

Love.

The doctor's heart skipped a beat looking into those eyes. Those beautiful, blue eyes. The mask he wore was polished to perfection, the metal was perfectly shaped into sculpted, masculine features.

He was beautiful.

Y/n was far too focused on just how captivating the man who stood before her was to pay any attention to whatever the priest was saying, until once again she was snapped out of thought by the large crowd cheering as they were pronounced husband and wife, in the name of the Lord.

-------------------------------

Later on, the guests had left and all had returned to somewhat calm after a day of celebration. Y/n was slightly shy at first during the celebrations, doing everything in her power to read the room and understand her place in this new world. But after a while, she began to enjoy herself.

Her “husband” had barely spoken a word all day, but she had caught him looking at her as she talked with his sister and associates. She was told by a few maids that after getting changed from her wedding attire, she would go and meet privately with her new husband.

She was nervous, but not even half as nervous as somebody else was...

Baldwin paced up and down his chambers until his legs were in agony. The day had been strenuous on his body and the pacing did not help.

The young king slumped down on his couch, cursing his frail body. He had watched her all day, his wonderful y/n. So full of life, so intelegent, speaking with everyone and enjoying her time while all he could do was sit and watch.

Oh how he had wished to join her, to dance with her, to speak with her, to hear every word her beautiful voice had to say, to look into her eyes. Those perfect eyes.

He hoped that she knew just how much he had fallen for her, even though they had not spoken a single word all day.

He cursed the mask that shrouded his emotions, forcing him to look cold and stern when all he wanted was her to know how warmly and deeply he felt for her. Baldwin sunk deeper into the couch cushions. His body craved sleep, craved a break from the pain. But he couldn't. He had to see her right this instant.

Taking a deep breath, or as deep as his failing lungs could take, the young king sat up and stared down into his hands, anticipating the moment y/n knocked on his door.

He did not have to wait long because no more than a minute after he sat up, a small knock came from the wooden door. Baldwin got to his feet, perhaps too fast. He steadied himself and called for her to enter. Y/n pushed open the door. She looked as beautiful as she did in her wedding dress.

“Good evening your majesty” she said with a graceful curtsey.

“Hello” he replied, suddenly feeling incredibly shy.

Y/n smiled. He was truly adorable. He looked so soft and warm in those robes. Good lord what was she thinking? She had barely met this man and yet she was acting like a teenager in love!

“Would you like to take a seat?” he offered, his voice gentle and kind. “Of course,” she replied. The two sat in silence for a moment. But it was not an awkward silence, more of a comfortable silence as the young couple took each other in.

It wasn't long before they got to talking. Two intelligent, young minds in the same room were bound to connect almost instantly. And that's just what they did.

Y/n tried to not say anything about her “world of the future”. That was until they were brought to the topic of his disease.

“So, you have no issue in being wed to a leper?” Baldwin had asked, his voice growing sad. Her heart broke for him in an instant, remembering how terribly people with his disease were treated at this time.

“Of course I don't” the doctor replied.

Her kind voice soothed something deep inside Baldwin. Something untouched for so many years. His eyes burned with tears but he dare not  let one fall.

“Really?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

“Of course! All I see is a beautiful, young man with a bright future. And from what I've heard, you're a wonderful ruler, and I know you will be a wonderful husband too”.

Baldwin smiled beneath the mask. He hoped she could see the smile through his eyes. Y/n took a deep breath before her next choice of words.

“You know, where I come from, lepers can be healed,” she said softly. Baldwin’s eyes widened.

“Truely?” he said in disbelief.

“Yes, but you can not tell anyone”

“I won't, of course! Please, share this with me” the young king said in a hushed voice taking her hands in his.

“Alright. I'm going to need a few things to do it and it may take a while-”

“Please, y/n. I'll do anything” Baldwin was on the verge of tears now. “Now I have you, I have a reason to live. I need to live, please” he begged.

Y/n’s heart sank as his previously strong demeanor shattered into a thousand pieces before her very eyes. As gently as she could, y/n wrapped her arms around her husband, pulling him into a gentle yet firm hug.

At that moment, the young doctor understood why all of this had happened. She was brought here for a reason. To cure this poor young man, to show him the love he deserves and to have a better life by his side.

“I promise Baldwin, I’ll make you well again. No matter what it takes. I'll do it”

[knightessofjerusalem]

[baudouinette]

just say something about chess or heroic tales and you’re probably his

[lambergarden]

meme

[deepfivetraveller]

King Baldwin iv x Time!Traveller!reader

Chapter 4

chapter 3 here

“However I have one small request.”

All the men look at each other. “And what might that be?”

She takes a small breath. “Please ensure I only get the appropriate reward I deserve. I do not wish to be flattered by sparkling treasures.”

A higher status would mean destruction to the trust you built with your customers. Not only that, you would be a target among high ranking nobles. 

“Very well.” The king agrees. “I bestow you the title of Dame” He looks with curiosity, trying to think what you’d do with the title. “You shall also receive a small manor where you can reside. I wish you the very best for your new beginning, Lady Y/n.”

Hmm. The title of a female knight was not bad. Only thing was she didn’t do anything knight-worthy. 

Another man speaks up. “We shall provide a physician to learn our nation's medicine. He’s one of the best. I’m sure, combining your country's knowledge with ours will prove successful.”

“Of course.” Yea right. The knowledge of a highschool graduate would totally help curing some ancient king. She wasn’t hopeful about his condition.

She bowed again, signalling she was to leave the room. King Baldwin nodded and the lady exited the room. The moment she did, dozens of documents were dropped onto her hands, all about her title and the new land under her name. The king’s bedroom door closed, while two people emerged out of the pillar in front. 

“How did it go?” The guard who escorted you, didn’t look as stoic as before. No, He was worried.

“Well… apparently I’m a dame now.” Y/n announces, almost dazed from the sudden shock of it all.

“Wonderful news! You’re the only female knight of the country.” A female servant explains. “Has his majesty given you any other reward?”

“A manor.” Your voice trails, taking one of the documents. “In the middle of Jerusalem's agricultural fields by the looks of it. Honestly the travel time is perfect from the manor to the castle.”

“Wait what?” She asked abruptly. “Sorry.” The servant clears her throat. “Can I inquire why, my lady?”

She sighs. “I’ve been put incharge of treating his majesty.” Seriously, all you did was feed oranges and now you’re in charge of curing the country’s most important man.

“That’s…Not what I thought would happen.” The guard seems even more worried, though she can’t pinpoint why. “By any chance, have you been granted a physician to inquire about his majesty’s illness?”

“Not quite, I’ve been provided a physician to learn about your country's medical procedures, but I’m sure they’ll also tell me about the king's ailments. Why do you ask?”

“Oh no.” The woman looks at the knight pitying the new noble.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well it’s just that…” She gulps. “My lady, you’ve probably been assigned a man named Omar Jahid. He was one of the physicians gifted by king Salahuddin. However he is an egoistic, self-centered, haughty Bicot” A nerve pops up on her forehead.

“I-It seems you speak from experience…” The lady smiles crooked. “However, I don't expect much. Almost every professional in their field has some form of anger issue. Take Gordon Ramsay for cooking.”

The guard looks confused. “Who?”

“A famous person from my nation.”

Frustratingly enough, the Lady was only given two weeks to adopt  into her new life. “Here are the books you requested.” The young girl with freckles hands them to you. “Thank you Margaret.” The girl gives a polite smile and urgently resumes other tasks.

‘Quite the hard worker you are.’ Screen reads from a distance. ‘I’m sure your basic knowledge you received from the modern era will be more than enough.’

The Dame soon came to realise that was not true. While searching for servants to hire, she had learned a lot about this world. The class system, the law and even some basic etiquette. She soon came to the realisation that although this era lacked technological advancements, it was still a functioning and organised society. Unlike how TV shows portrayed the people of this era too, didn’t accept social standards. Yes, women did get the same amount of education as that for a man, but only for nobility. Yes, slavery does exist but so does equality in its own way.

“I need to meet the gardener now.” She gets up from her seat. “Let's see what he's done.”

As you walk (and screen hovers), the feeling of anxiety still runs behind your mind. That physician, seems to have a reputation of scaring disciples away and you were not quite sure you could take him head on. Secondly, you’re an atheist present in a country of christianity, although you can make up an excuse since you’re clearly not from Jerusalem. Your spice stall is gaining a profit on the good side. It seems that people have realised your stall is one of the few that sells unadulterated goods.

 Both dame and screen arrive at the garden, covered with flowers of soft and vibrant textures. “Crispin.” She calls out one of the boys present. “M’Lady!” The young man with brown hair gets up from his knees, ignoring the task of trimming bushes. She gracefully asks, “Where is Thomas?”

“He’s somewhere out there, near the trees.” Crispin points.

“Thank you.” She leaves the area. While walking towards Thomas, the head gardener of the manor, she sees him instructing a few people. “Use the fertilizer near the blueberry patches.” He says with disgust. “And water those…things. Whatever they are.” He aggressively points at the orange trees.

“Thomas.” Y/n calls. He seizes his work and turns. “Lady Y/n.”

“How are the trees?” She smiles.

“Look at it yourself M’Lady. ” Thomas looks high up, gazing at the coconut trees.

“Perfect.” Her ecstatic mood brightens the servants around. “Can someone please grab one?” She looks hopeful. Surely enough, someone does take one of it down.

“Thank you.” You look at Thomas. “Although it looks like a giant nut, it’s actually a fruit. Cracking it will give us the sweet water present inside.”

“Do you want to try some?” The Dame suggests. No wonder, he was taken aback by great shock.

“M’lady I don’t know if you’re tryin to test me or remind me of my position, but I'll decline.” It came out a little gruff than he expected.

“I just need the shell” She hurriedly replies. “I can’t drink all that’s in here. Please help me out.”

“...”

A few minutes later

“It's actually not that bad.” He remarks, surprised. “Do these plants grow in your hometown M’Lady? ”

“You can say that.” She takes a sip from her copper cup.

“I can see why someone would want the juice, but why the shell?”

“I think it’ll be of use later on…” She looked at the coconut husk being turned to ash.

‘Are you sure about this?’ Screen follows you as you walk. ‘You could just buy some antifungal cream or something’  I’m pretty sure he’ll be impressed.'

“And what if he asks how I made it?” You shut the creature. “I might have ruined the future just by introducing a fruit, I’m not taking any risks. From now on, that online store is just a hub for creating money in an emergency.” You stood still at the gate of the majestic house.

“And how may I address you to Lord Omar Jahid?”

“Lady Y/n L/n.”

“I see.” The guard replies. “He’s been awaiting you. Please come.” He shows inside, while the other guards open the giant door.

After waiting in the drawing room for what seemed like 10 minutes, Omar arrived, dressed simple but elegantly. You waste no time standing up. “Lord Omar.”

“Lady Y/n”. He slyly looks at you top to bottom, judgingly. A realisation occurs. “You brought no servants?”

“I didn’t want to burden them. They already have difficulties adjusting to a new manor and changing their schedule for a mere visit might be hectic for them.”

Mere visit? He was a royal physician for God's sake. Was she illiterate or was it her way of telling him she does not value him? When he got the news that a woman, an untrained commoner, was incharge of treating the king he was flabbergasted. 

“Unbelievable.” He chuckles under his breath. “Tell me, You haven’t come empty handed have you?”

“Of course not. I have come up with a few ways to reduce the scars of leprosy but I’ve seem that—”

“Wait.” He interrupted. “Have you tested it out?”

“No…” Y/n slowly replies. “I thought we could test it out on another patient but…”

“Yes?”

“The method might come off… unconventional.”

“That doesn’t surprise me, most methods are usually like that. Tell me, what is it?”

“...Molded bread.”

Omar blinked rapidly. “So your way of treating leprosy is to make the king eat stale bread?” You can feel that insulting tone sticking onto your skin like honey.

“Actually it’s to place the molded bread on the affected areas of skin.” Dead silence enveloped the room.

“Okay that—” He sighs. But his eyes brighten in a moment. “It could work.” You can’t exactly pinpoint how, but there seems to be something more fishy than hope in his eyes.

“Come with me, Madame.” He paces out of the room fastly, and she follows. 

“Where are we going?”

“To the Domus Leprosorium. Wear this cloth mask.” He takes it out of a servant's pocket he was standing next to. 

“B-But I don’t even have stale bread!”

“That’s fine, I’m very much confident they have it”

Upon leaving the house, both enter separate carriages. ‘Seriously? Molded bread? You expect THAT to work?’ Screen pops up. 

“It’s an early stage antibiotic.” She answers, not even looking at the inanimate being, trying her best to focus on the physician’s carriage seeing him read a book. The ride went silently from then on but her eyes still lingered on Omar. 

Quickly, the vehicle came to a halt. “That was fast.” You remark.

The Dame wastes no time in getting down, almost tripping while doing so. Omar only waits till you stand up and dashes into the hospital.

While the both walk, the Dame sees countless patients bedridden. She knows leprosy is not a disease that transfers quickly in physical contact but is still very grateful for the mask.

The two nobles quickly reach a well-ventilated room that has plenty of sunlight. It almost looked like an apothecary, without the herb cabinets. There, she notices slices of bread, all molded up, neatly arranged.

“This is what you meant right?” He points. “I shall fill your forms stating your medical trials using this. Come let’s—”

“Stop.” You affirm boldly. “It doesn’t make sense.” Omar frowns.

“It makes perfect sense”, now hurry–”

“You were so repulsed working with a commoner not some time ago, but now you’re so eager?” He freezes.

The Dame crosses her arms. “You know. You know this is how ancient Egyptians treated infected cuts and scrapes. In fact, every royal physician knows about this treatment, but don’t dare to use it.” She takes a step forward while he takes one back.

“You…You’re using me as a human shield.”

“What?” He pretends to be confused. “Your ideas are preposterous.”

“You’re scared. No, everyone’s scared they will be punished if they try this. After all, His majesty is not your true master.” He gulps.

“If the method works, which it partially will, you’ll kill me. And if it doesn’t, you’ll frame me for treason. After all, nobody cares if the king’s suffering ends, they just want to profit from it.” You take one of the slices of bread and stare.

“The physicians get to keep their job, and the Muslims get to keep this land.” The last part comes out laced with anger.

“You and every other physician, are spies sent by Salahuddin.” You calmly state.

“Don’t you dare utter his name—”

“Why do you care?” The Dame clenches her hand, scrunching the slice. “You’re an atheist anyway. I don’t think a man such as you will respect a head of a religion if you don’t believe in God in the first place.”

 He sighs, frowning. “How did you know?” 

“No Muslim would willingly enter Christian land if they don’t even have a proper place to pray. I don’t know about the other physicians but you certainly don’t seem bothered about it at all.”

This didn’t occur in your original timeline. Your presence has completely changed everything. Even with your limited knowledge in history, you knew this isn’t how Baldwin dies.

“My nation is currently trying this very method to cure leprosy. Although, I can openly admit about this while you can’t.” You sit on the marble table. “Quite funny, this geopolitics. Saying my nation's name might avoid persecution and give you an escape from this lifestyle.” He catches your idea quickly.

“Spare my life. Take the credit. Use my nation's name to cure him, I’ll even provide you with proper evidence it is, in fact, from my nation.”

“How are you so sure it’ll work?”

“It will because it has before.” She stated him dead in the eyes. “Go on, no need to conduct trial runs. Test it on his Majesty using your own name. It won’t cure him completely but will decrease its spreading. However if you even think about harming his majesty I shall strip you of everything you have.” You lean in closer. “You have a son and a daughter waiting for you at home. Think about it.”

As you storm off the hospital, screen pops up ‘How did you know all of that?’

“I bribed his servants.”

��Really? That simple?’

“...And gossip with the maids of my manor…and the castle.”

“I can’t believe he actually told my name. That too moments before he quit.” You sit on your bed, shocked from it all.

‘I can’t believe you didn’t expect him to. Your name can’t be ignored if your country is mentioned y’know?’

“I know but still whatifigetputinadungeorsoemthing. ”

‘What?’

“Whatifigetputina—-”

“NothankyouscreenI'mfine.”

“Girl you okay? If you want to calm your nerves I can access Ao3 or something but please don’t read anything other than fluff this time.” It recalls the war flashbacks from a few days ago.

‘Clearly NOT. I’m not good with this emotional stuff. Call Margaret or someone.’ It pops away. Heeding to its advice, she rings the bell in her room and Margeret arrives.

“Yes my lady?” The girl arrives graciously, awaiting orders.

“HelpmeMargeretIdon’tknowwhattodo.”

“Ah.” she realises. “There’s no need to be nervous my lady, this is not the first time you’re meeting the king so I don’t understand the need for the nervousness.”

True. But the last time you were dragged by crusaders immediately to the castle. Now you were given time to think, spiking your anxiety.

“Still…” You pout.

She giggles. “My lady, you're acting more childish than me.”

“What would you do if you were to meet the king?” You reason, hugging the pillow

“Oh I’d faint on sight.” She accepts the truth. “What kind of man is he?”

“I only met him once.” You look dead-panned.

“More than me. Tell me, how was he to you?”

Memories flowed like a  calm river in your brain. The moment passed fast. The only two constants you could remember were his blue eyes and your weirdly fluttering heartbeat. 

“He was kind. Even though he was sick, he was level headed.” The dame chuckles.

“I remember when I was sick when I was eight.” The ginger replies.  I don’t remember much but It was deadly. According to my brother, I was the crankiest during then.”

“It takes true strength to be kind during the toughest times…” You trail off your voice. Margaret notices your quelled down anxiety, but lack of uncertainty. 

“Would you like to have your favorite dish as dinner?” She suggests and you nod. “I’ll inform the chef and prepare your dress for tomorrow.” 

As she leaves the room, you call her once more. “Yes M’lady?”

“Thank you…for the words.”

The girl’s smile radiates the whole room. “Your welcome, M'lady.”

Surprisingly, the carriage ride didn’t cause you car sickness. “Gerald”. You call him.

“Yes?” It was the same guard who escorted you before, carrying out the same duties as before

“How is his majesty?” You question.

“Quite alright now. His health has drastically improved due to your help. Although I must say I was perplexed when I found out the method of treatment.”

You chuckle. “It is unusual, but the results show.”

“I was informed you shall be meeting his majesty at a lounging area and not in his bedroom like last time. You need not be nervous. It'll be the same as the previous encounter, just surrounded by his physicians, that's all.”

“...Thank you Gerald.” Was it really that obvious?

A nice conversation lasted inside the carriage. Both talked about the mundane aspects of their life - like the comedy her servants perform while he related it to his work life. This small period of bliss lasted for a short span. It didn’t take long for the both to reach the castle.

The guard got down first to help the lady, and she graciously accepted. The pathway was almost the same as the last time you entered the castle but with two extra rights. Briefly, both stood next to a luxurious door. You waited anxiously as another set of guards opened them and didn’t waste a second to enter.

The inside looked like a living room. And king Baldwin sat at the centre, next to his physicians.

“Your majesty.” The noble curtsies.

“My lady.” The king allows her to relax. “I cannot thank you enough. You and your efforts have tremendously helped me and my nation.” He takes a breath through his metal mask. “Tell me, do you wish for anything? Do not feel shy, speak your heart.”

“Thank you. I have a wish.” You look down. “This wish isn’t particularly for me but will help all. ”

“Go on.” He leans a bit closer to you.

Alright, here it goes. “Please dismiss your personal physicians…forever.”

All eyes turned towards you. It felt as if you were stabbed by a thousand swords all over your body. The Dame needed to give the king an explanation for her actions but her fear paralysed her entire body. 

‘Oh God. This is the end. I knew I shouldn’t have done that. NOW I'M GONNA DIE.’ Her thoughts are interrupted. 

“It seems it's no longer a secret.” He sighs. “If a foreigner knows, everyone in the nation knows.” He calls. “Guards, seize everyone in the room other than the lady.”

Someone yells .“Your Majesty! We are representatives of Malik Salahuddin! If you harm us, he will not stand idly by.”

“That's enough. I’ve bared your presence for too long and gave Salahuddin too much comfort.” Baldwin stared directly in your eyes. “Thank you for bringing me back to my senses, physically and mentally.”

“You knew???” You screeched.

“I am not stupid enough to have none of my own countrymen as physicians.” He turned and watched all the men being dragged away. “They informed me. I thought keeping his spies by my side would make my enemy feel as if he had control, but I failed to notice the grasp was tight enough to stop my recovery.” 

“But even my actual physicians didn’t have a clue about the method you used for me.” He looks at you again with the corner of his eyes peeking through the mask. 

“According to the public, I have no physicians as of the moment.” Baldwin gets up. ‘Lady Y/n L/n, I hereby give you the task of finding new physicians for me. You may use all of my resources. But until then…’ He comes closer.

“You are responsible for treating me.” He smiles under his mask.

[vamlentvair]

First ever drawing of King Baldwin IV (I’ve never watched Kingdom of Heaven)

[speef115]

King Baldwin IV x Female Reader

Warning: Adolescent sex, oral sex, breeding kink

King Baldwin IV found himself in the present day and ended up in (Y/N)'s room by mistake. When (Y/N) saw him, she screamed in surprise.

"I-I apologize! I have no idea how I got here!" Baldwin exclaimed.

(Y/N) exclaimed, "How did you manage to arrive here?!"

King Baldwin IV protested, "I already mentioned, I have no idea!"

After calming down, (Y/N) observed the king closely and remarked, "I recognize you... You must be King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem."

"You are correct. How did you come to know that?" inquired King Baldwin IV.

"I am a fa-," (Y/N) stopped abruptly, looking away in embarrassment.

"Who might you be?" King Baldwin IV inquired of (Y/N).

"I'm (Y/N)," she responded.

"Ah, (Y/N), a unique name," King Baldwin IV said with a smile beneath his mask. He then glanced at (Y/N)'s clothing, "Your garments are quite revealing," he observed.

"I apologize, but this is my school uniform; I'm still a student," (Y/N) explained.

"So, you're saying you're young and still in school?" King Baldwin IV asked.

"Yes, exactly," (Y/N) confirmed.

"What's the current year?" he inquired.

"It's 2024," she answered.

"This must be the fashion for women in your era," King Baldwin IV mused.

"That's correct, but it's not universal for all women," she responded.

King Baldwin IV couldn't help but admire (Y/N)'s flawless legs peeking out from her very short plaid skirt.

(Y/N) blushed and pleaded, "Could you please not gaze at me like that."

"I-I'm sorry, it's just that I've never seen a woman dressed like this before, and, well, you're quite captivating," King Baldwin IV admitted, blushing beneath his mask.

"Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?" (Y/N) inquired.

"I appreciate the offer," King Baldwin IV responded, unaware that deep down, he craved (Y/N).

As (Y/N) searched for food on her food cart by the side of her room, she leaned down, causing her short skirt to ride up, inadvertently exposing her white lace panties to King Baldwin IV.

King Baldwin IV gazed at her through her panties, studying the curves of her buttocks and the flawless, blushing skin of the back of her thighs. He also noticed a new sensation—he felt a hardening in his groin, a feeling he had never experienced before.

(Y/N) handed King Baldwin IV some chips and placed them on her bed. "Here you are, give these a try. They should satisfy your hunger. I'll be organizing things in my bag," she said, before sitting on the edge of her bed and reaching for her bag.

King Baldwin IV glanced at the chips on the bed, then watched (Y/N) as she settled down and began rummaging through her bag. He admired her shapely figure from behind, and in that moment, an idea sparked in his mind.

King Baldwin IV quickly sat beside (Y/N) on her bed, picked her up, and put her on his lap before starting to do what he wanted.

King Baldwin IV embraces (Y/N) from behind and then proceeds to inappropriately and forcefully touch her.

King Baldwin IV runs his hand delicately over (Y/N)'s panties, lifting her short skirt. His fingers move over her delicate area while she is still wearing her lace underwear. His gentle touch sends shivers down her spine, causing her to let out a moan.

"You are incredibly beautiful," King Baldwin IV murmurs in her ear. "You belong only to me..." he adds.

King Baldwin IV places his left hand on (Y/N)'s left breast, softly squeezing it with desire as he explores her bra and ample bosom. "I want you," he expresses, while his right hand continues to caress her over her panties.

(Y/N) submits to King Baldwin IV's advances without resistance.

He then examines her blouse, noticing her ample breasts pushing against the fabric. As he studies the design of the garment, he carefully unbuttons her top, revealing a delicate lace bra that conceals her rosy, blushing breasts.

"Why are you wearing that?" King Baldwin IV asked (Y/N), pointing to her bra. She blushed and didn't say anything.

"Anyway, it looks nice on you, but I want to see more," King Baldwin IV said, gently touching her big breasts, making her feel good before uncovering them slowly.

With her breasts uncovered, showing her pink nipples, King Baldwin IV carefully takes off his gloves and bandages from both hands.

"Stay calm, (Y/N)," he murmured to her while starting to uncover his hands.

(Y/N) observed his scarred hands from leprosy, but he was excited to cautiously touch her, a sensation he had never felt before.

King Baldwin IV begins to gently touch the aroused nipples of (Y/N) with his leprous fingers, exploring her feminine form as he admires her blushing breasts. He embraces (Y/N) from behind, leaving her unable to do anything but observe his actions.

Occasionally, he traced circles around her areola with his fingers, then he touched her nipples, sometimes giving them a gentle pinch, eliciting an aroused moan from (Y/N), a sound he found pleasure in hearing.

"I'm loving this," he whispered with desire in (Y/N)'s ear. "I'm glad I came here just for this."

"Baldwin..." (Y/N) said softly, blushing.

"I understand, you want more as well," King Baldwin IV said to (Y/N).

He became slightly forceful as he squeezed her breasts more firmly and alternately pinched her nipples.

(Y/N) had no choice but to surrender to the pleasure she was experiencing at that moment. King Baldwin IV also opted to take off his metal mask, exposing his scarred leprous face. This allowed him to kiss and lick the left side of (Y/N)'s neck while continuing to caress her breasts with desire.

Despite the king's appearance, (Y/N) took pleasure in the feel of his leprous fingers on her breasts and his lustful kisses on her neck.

While King Baldwin IV persistently caresses her charming breasts, he observes her immaculate white thighs and her lengthy legs adorned with extended lace white socks reaching her knees. His excitement grows at the prospect of exploring the lower regions of her feminine form. Additionally, he notices her overly short skirt, now revealing the lace panties he had touched earlier, fueling his eagerness to delve into her intimate womanhood.

With a swift motion, the king tore (Y/N)'s blouse, throwing it aside carelessly. Next, he struggled momentarily to unclasp her bra from behind, but quickly succeeded. Continuing his actions, he forcefully squeezed (Y/N)'s left breast with his left hand, while his right hand moved downward to her panties, where he aggressively fondled the fabric and scraped against her vagina.

(Y/N) feels both intense desire and passion simultaneously. She finds the words to express to the king, "Things are getting intense," while occasionally moaning.

In response, King Baldwin IV continues his sensual touches on her private areas, expressing that it's still not intense enough for him, "we're just getting started."

King Baldwin IV paused and motioned for (Y/N) to turn towards him, which she did. He gazed at her bare upper body, focusing on her breasts, before turning his attention to her beautiful face.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) looked at the king's scarred face without feeling repulsed.

"I believe I love you," King Baldwin IV confessed to (Y/N), leaving her stunned. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her passionately on the lips.

Afterward, he glanced at her nipples and licked the left one, eliciting a gentle, vulnerable moan from her. Meanwhile, his other hand caressed her right breast as he continued to savor the other nipple.

Occasionally, he alternated between tasting her right and left breasts, taking turns to enjoy each one.

Then he kissed her passionately once more.

He then swapped positions with her as they continued kissing, before gently laying her down on her bed. (Y/N) now feels exposed and instinctively covers her breasts from the king.

King Baldwin IV chuckled at her vulnerability, but then his gaze shifted to her alluring thighs and the glimpse of her panties peeking out from her short skirt.

He chose to remove her short skirt and threw it aside, leaving her in only her lace panties and knee-high lace socks.

Then, he ran his leprous fingers over (Y/N)'s soft thighs, moving back and forth. Eventually, he lowered his head to her thighs, lustfully sniffing her left thigh while his left hand continued to caress her right thigh.

He allowed his sniffs to reach her panties, then paused to gaze at (Y/N) before proceeding. With their eyes locked, he softly kissed her panties and then gave her vagina a gentle peck.

Observing (Y/N)'s panties before him, King Baldwin IV remarked, "beautiful." He then planted loud kisses upon her vagina, even as she remained clothed in her underwear, prompting (Y/N) to release soft moans.

King Baldwin IV expressed his gratitude by saying, "Thank God..." while continuing to shower (Y/N)'s vagina with kisses to show his love for her.

The king paused briefly and gazed at (Y/N) once more. As he locked eyes with her, he subtly indicated that he desired to perform oral sex on her through her underwear.

He licked her underwear while she let out a gentle moan, then he licked her once more from below while gazing at her with desire.

"You taste amazing," King Baldwin IV said to (Y/N), as he kept licking her vagina, gradually becoming more assertive.

After a brief moment, King Baldwin IV rotated her body so that she was facing down on the bed. Now, he admired her pinkish-white and flawless buttocks, enhanced by the beauty of her panties from behind.

He was astonished by the beauty of (Y/N), even with her buttocks exposed. "By the heavens, I feel truly fortunate to witness such beauty," King Baldwin IV exclaimed as he gently ran his leprous hand over (Y/N)'s soft buttocks.

"Even this garment enhances your attractiveness," he remarked, referring to the laced panties she was wearing.

He used both hands to gently stroke both sides of (Y/N)'s flushed buttocks, appreciating their fullness. He even used his fingers to trace along the center of her buttocks, continuing down to provide another sensation of his touch to her vagina.

He playfully stimulated her there, applying a passionate touch to a specific area of her vagina. As it grew more intense, (Y/N) released a sultry moan, once again satisfying King Baldwin IV.

Following his exploration of her vagina, he opted to kiss the cheeks of her buttocks. With tenderness and affection, he placed a peck on the left buttock while gently caressing the right one, mirroring his actions with her breasts earlier. Occasionally, he alternated sides, kissing, licking, and tasting both her left and right buttocks.

"You're incredibly enticing," King Baldwin IV praised (Y/N), acknowledging her beauty and allure. "You must be an angel, perhaps even a goddess."

He then repositioned her to face him once more, while she remained lying on her bed with her breasts still exposed to him.

"I feel privileged to have experienced you," King Baldwin IV said, taking (Y/N)'s hand and tenderly kissing it, feeling as though he had fallen for her deeply.

"This is quite unexpected," (Y/N) responded, blushing and averting her gaze.

King Baldwin IV gently guides her head to meet his gaze. "I want you," he expressed before sharing another passionate kiss with her.

As their embrace continued, his lips journeyed downward until they reached her panties once more. This time, he slid her panties down her legs, all the way to her feet, and then discarded them. He marveled at the sight of her feminine intimate area.

(Y/N) purposefully crosses her legs to shield her vagina, but King Baldwin IV gently parts them to inspect her intimate area.

"Beautiful," he murmured upon seeing her vagina, a sight he never thought he would behold as a leper. He entertained the idea of engaging in intercourse with her.

King Baldwin IV slowly takes off his clothes, showing his leprous body underneath.

When he's fully naked, (Y/N) sees his scarred body but also notices his muscular shape, proof of his training as a king.

Looking downward, she observed his erect penis, while King Baldwin IV positioned himself to penetrate (Y/N).

He widened her legs without seeking consent, letting his penis graze against her vagina. With a back-and-forth motion, he waited for her vagina to become wet.

As (Y/N) grew wet and aroused, he readied his still erect penis to penetrate her vagina.

He inserts his penis into her opening and softly moves it back and forth. "This will stay with me forever," he whispers as he passionately moves inside her. It's an occurrence he never imagined he'd have as a leper.

Blood trickled from (Y/N)'s vagina, causing her to scream in pain, revealing that she was still a virgin, now no longer after King Baldwin IV.

"The most incredible sensation," he remarked, proud to have taken (Y/N)'s virginity and purity, becoming the first man to do so.

As King Baldwin IV's penis moves inside her, (Y/N) begins to appreciate his masculinity and feels pleasure. She gradually acknowledges that he is handsome despite his leprosy.

As they proceed, her moans intensify, adding to the passion of their lovemaking.

Feeling close to climax, he quickens the pace before pulling out and ejaculating onto (Y/N)'s breasts.

After this, he desires another round, reentering her and kissing her with lust, while aggressively squeezing her breasts and thrusting inside her.

Sharing a passionate encounter, he kissed (Y/N) while grinding his penis inside her vagina, experiencing the ultimate pleasure. As he neared climax, he decided to keep to himself the desire to ejaculate inside (Y/N).

And it occurred; he allowed himself to ejaculate inside her without withdrawing his penis. (Y/N) grew curious, but soon realized what had happened after a few moments. "I love you, I love you..." King Baldwin IV declared before kissing her passionately once more.

He then penetrated her once again, resuming his movements. After a while, another ejaculation occurred inside (Y/N).

Exhausted from their activity, the two lay side by side on the bed. King Baldwin IV grabbed a blanket from beneath them to cover them both. They lay naked, with (Y/N) resting her head on King Baldwin IV's sturdy chest, drifting off to sleep together in the afternoon.

-End-

[hydravns]

Baldwin IV of Jerusalem The Leper King in KINGDOM OF HEAVEN (2005) Dir. Ridley Scott

[flowerandblood]

Paradise Fruit (1)

[ Kingdom of Heaven • King Baldwin x female ]

[ warnings: watching each other masturbate, soft, poetic smut, a detailed description of the deadly disease and the unpleasant symptoms associated with it ]

[ description: After being treated by King Saladin's physicians, King Baldwin begins to leave his chambers. The people of the court whisper around her that the young ruler will not even live to be thirty years old. As a lady of waiting of his sister, she attracts his attention. ]

Author's Note: I said it and I did it: I know this isn't your typical Ewan Mitchell character, but I couldn't resist. I'm glad I wrote this because I had too many thoughts after watching this movie and now my soul is at peace! For those who haven't seen Kingdom of Heaven, I highly recommend it, it's an amazing production.

Word count: 3.900

Part 2 – White Marriage

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Jerusalem seemed to her at once a paradise and a hell on earth, both beautiful, sublimely sacred, as much as broken, dirty and cruel. The reign of King Baldwin IV was a reign of restraint and peace, the greatest evidence of which was his rich diplomatic correspondence with King Saladin himself.

Baldwin gave permission for the Muslim part of Jerusalem to hold prayers as it wished, on payment of appropriate taxes – a huge step towards reconciling the city's disparate population and a cause of contention among the Christian knights.

As lady of the court, she accompanied the royal sister, Sibylla, like her shadow, serving her with conversation, reading books in her company, being the equivalent of her friend and confidante, watching over her welfare.

She was the third daughter, and was therefore a burden to her lord father, who sent her to Jerusalem to the royal court when she was thirteen. Her father hoped that Sibylla herself would find her a suitable husband and put up the coins for her dowry, allowing her family to glory on the Old Continent in the fact that her chosen one was favoured by the God in the Holy Land.

Looking at Princess Sibylla's marriage, she prayed that she would never meet her fate, preferring to eventually fade into old age in a monastery.

Her Lady abhorred her husband: not in a physical context, for he was not unlike other great knights in stature or appearance, but in his heart, which was filled with the lust for power.

Although he believed that he was acting in the name of Christ on the Earth, he represented neither his mercy nor his prudence, being a simply unkind and spiteful man.

Sibylla was given in marriage to him at the age of 15, and she watched her sufferings and humiliations in silence, only being able to allow herself occasionally to close her hand on hers, giving her encouragement.

It was known that her husband's dream was the death of the King, for it would then be his wife who would become heir to the throne. Someone might laugh at this wish, knowing that King Baldwin was only 16 years old when she arrived at court.

However, despite such a young age, it was known that the King would probably not live to see his thirtieth year.

The cruel disease that had descended upon his body when he was still a young child, leprosy, was the reason why his whole body was covered, and his face was adorned with a beautiful silver mask – the only thing visible through it were his eyes, bright and wise, the skin around his eyelids all red.

His sister despaired at his undeserved suffering, at the thought that his body was falling apart, his skin peeling and pulling away from his muscles, causing him excruciating pain. He could not touch anyone or be touched directly because his disease was contagious.

Thus, one of the greatest rulers of Jerusalem, a man who had accomplished the impossible and ushered, at least for a while, the Kingdom of Heaven into this forbidden holy land, suffered daily torment.

As she prayed for the health of her family and his sister, she also prayed for him – since Christ was able to miraculously cure lepers, as the Bible itself said, perhaps there was hope for him too.

As a sign of respect and friendship, the Muslim King Saladin sent a retinue of his best physicians to relieve the King of his pain, which must have helped at least to some extent, for although she had previously only seen him in audience standing by his sister's side, now the King began to walk through the palace gardens on his own.

One day, when Sibylla noticed him standing next to one of the monks, she approached him immediately, praising his name, and she moved humbly to follow her, feeling grateful at the thought that the King was indeed feeling better.

That perhaps her prayers had been answered.

"Brother. It rejoices me to see you in the fresh air, away from the suffocating comfort of your chambers full of books and parchments." Sibylla said, pulling her shawl from her mouth, revealing her face to her brother.

As a married woman, she covered her face out of sheer decency, as her husband was a jealous man, but she, as a maiden, in addition almost always being in the presence of her Lady, did not have to do so.

"Your judgement is too harsh, dear sister. Books and parchments are my solace in the hardest of times." He said calmly and lazily, effortlessly – it was the first time she had heard his voice this close and she thought the words coming out of his mouth were like humming.

He had a white linen cloth draped over his head that reminded her of the headgear of the pharaohs, a richly embroidered white robe and gloves on his body, a silver mask portraying the features of a handsome, masculine man on his face.

She swallowed hard as his gaze shifted to her, catching her looking shamelessly at her ruler's face, causing her to lower her head immediately.

"Let's take a walk. We should take advantage of the beautiful weather." Said his sister, wanting to take his arm, he however moved away immediately and shook his head.

Pain and sadness crossed Sibylla's face, but after a moment she only nodded and forced herself to smile, walking ahead with him, letting her and the King's servant walk a few steps behind them.

That evening, for the first time, the King summoned her.

"Do not fret." Sibylla said. "My brother is a man of decency and sensitivity. Rest assured, he will not set upon your virtue or force you to do things unworthy of a lady. He confessed to me that he would like to look at your face for at least a moment longer and asked me to convey his wish to you, indicating that you may refuse."

She looked at her in disbelief, feeling the blush of embarrassment appear on her cheeks at her words, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad.

"If it is the will of our beloved King, I will do so." She said, and Sibylla nodded, giving her one satisfied smile.

She wore her most beautiful robe and hair adornments as if she were about to attend a nuptials – the material cast over her body was blue, fastened at the shoulders and waist with golden buckles, in her hair at the sides jewellery resembling a wreath of laurel leaves.

As she entered his chamber, candles burned all around, she was also struck by the intense scent of lavender – she noticed immediately his white, seated figure bent over thick tomes. His head turned towards her, in his mask she was able to see the reflection of everything around him.

"Do not be afraid. Come closer." He said softly and she nodded, feeling her heart flutter in her chest like a bird.

Her footsteps on the stone floor echoed through his chamber, the rustling of her robe as she sat down opposite him made her sound similar to the rustling of leaves.

She swallowed hard as she watched him sigh and spread out comfortably in his chair, looking her straight in the eye – she immediately looked away, unaccustomed to such confidentiality with anyone.

"No." He said. "Don't deny me this pleasure."

She tightened her fingers on the material of her garment, lifting her gaze to him again, feeling herself involuntarily begin to breathe through her mouth.

She could see the calm and curiosity in his eyes – his head was tilted slightly to one side, as if he was thinking about something, silence all around him.

"I'm making you uncomfortable." He concluded.

She shook her head quickly, horrified, thinking that something in her posture or gaze had discouraged him.

"No, Your Grace. I just don't know how to behave. What is appropriate for me to do or say in your presence. Silence is safe." She confessed in shame, lowering her eyes to her fingers again, reminding herself after a moment that she should not do so.

The King hummed at her words.

"Do not take my words as my attempt to mock you, however, knowing how little time I have left in this wretched world has made me tread lightly in courtly etiquette." He said with amusement, not taking his eyes off her, something flashed in his gaze as if someone had lit a candle inside them.

"We waste time feigning care and respect, hiding what is true, arising from the depths of our hearts, because that is what etiquette demands of us. When we stand before God, will we say to him: I have never really loved or sympathised, but my lips have left many beautiful, great words?" He asked, and she looked at him in disbelief, completely surprised by his approach and what she had heard.

Some part of her knew he was right.

"In this world, only the King can afford to lack beautiful words." She muttered, hearing after a moment that something akin to a chuckle had left his lips.

"You are mistaken. One word from the King can either create or destroy."

She lowered her head, wondering if he had just rebuked her, he, however, seemed satisfied.

"My reign will end with my death, which will be in a few years at the latest. I will not beget an heir to whom I can pass on my philosophy of ruling, the values that are essential. My sister's husband and his greed will sit on the throne, and Jerusalem will fall." He said calmly, as if he were telling her about the weather, his fingers clad in a white silk glove tapping rhythmically against the table top.

She swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in her heart, wondering if perhaps the reason he had summoned her was quite different from what she had suspected.

"What shall I do, my King?" She asked, and he laughed again, louder this time, looking at her as if something in her question gave him pleasure.

"Your devotion rejoices my heart. Do not think, however, that you will hear from me an order that would condemn you to eternal damnation. I could not then leave this world in peace. No. I wish that when I disappear, someone will watch over my sister. To help her escape when all is lost here, no matter what her husband will desire. Do you understand what I have in mind?" He asked softly, and she nodded, thinking she felt more respect towards him than ever.

"Yes, my King." She replied.

He smiled at her words, she saw it in his gaze. She lifted her gaze higher, towards the windows by which the shoots of dried lavender hung, surrounding them with a pleasant, refreshing scent.

"I had these beautiful flowers brought in from far away. They mask well the unpleasant ailments of my illness on hot days. The smell of rotting flesh is one of the most disgusting to man, for nature equates it with spoiled food from which he can die." He explained, and she looked at him in disbelief, feeling hot shame ripple through her body at his words.

His suffering must have been unimaginable.

"Knights praise their own greatness and bravery during battles wishing for songs to be sung about them. I, for one, hope to hear songs about Baldwin IV, a wise and prudent King, a merciful Monarch who fought each day with his own suffering and triumphed. I do not know the words that can convey my admiration for your person." She mouthed in a trembling voice, feeling that her hands lying on her thighs were quivering all over with emotion, burning tears for some reason squeezed under her eyelids.

The King looked at her for a long moment in silence, something in his gaze that made her feel a pleasant tingling in her fingertips.

"Your soul is as beautiful as your body. You are like a breath of cool wind on a hot day. I am grateful to you for allowing me to experience this joy."

As she left his chamber, for some reason she burst out crying.

She could not understand why: it seemed to her that her heart squeezed all over in pain, not only out of compassion, but also out of a sense of injustice that a man so great and enlightened was experiencing undeserved torment every day.

Or was it through his ordeal that he became such a man, such a King?

If the gates of the Kingdom of Heaven were to open before anyone in the second life, it was before him, she thought.

That night she could not sleep: she was ashamed of herself for thinking about him. She tried not to pay attention to men, knowing their nature, knowing that they might consider it an invitation on her part to sin.

However, the time she spent with him, although she might perceive his words as ambiguous, seemed to her something almost spiritual, a moment of awakening, as if she had been in a half-sleep until the moment she looked into his eyes.

His gaze would find her in the audience among the other servants and ladies of the court. She knew this because his eyes stopped on her face, and although he listened intently to what his subjects were saying to him, she knew that for that one moment he was focused only on her.

The flutter of her heart shamed her, allowing her to realise that, like a flower, a warm and pleasant feeling was blossoming within her, coming from God.

"You occupy my brother's thoughts. He follows you with his eyes." Said Sibylla as they walked together through the corridors of the great, cold stone fortress.

"It was not my desire to distract him from the affairs of the Kingdom." She confessed with shame, entwining her fingers on her womb, looking sadly at her fingers. His sister snorted at her words.

"Jerusalem is destroying him. It is the Kingdom that is his disease. He has taken upon himself all its sins, purified it. He gave it years of peace and dignity." She said with a pain from which she felt a sting in her heart.

Why was it that whenever she thought of him she wanted to cry?

"I want to relieve him." She said finally, looking at her uncertainly, afraid of how the words sounded when they left her mouth. Sibylla stopped, looking at her with furrowed brows.

"Don't be a fool. My brother will not condemn you to a fate similar to his own."

"There are many ways to experience relief. You said so yourself, Princess."

Sibylla looked at her thoughtfully and after a moment nodded, giving her wordless consent to whatever she wished to do.

The trust she had in her intimidated her.

As the siblings' chambers were next to each other, walking along the corridor from one quarters to the other was not a problem for her – Sibylla dismissed her guards so that no one could see in what negligee she went to the king's chamber.

Her long hair was loose, her body covered only by a thin nightgown, rubbed with fragrant oils, on her shoulders a cashmere shawl with which she covered herself to protect herself from the cold.

When she closed the door behind her and turned to face him, his eyes were wide in shock. He was silent for a moment, clearly not knowing what to say.

"No." He said finally. "Go back to your chamber."

"I have not come to you to sin. Does the sight of me disgust you, my King?" She asked in a trembling voice, feeling that she was breathing heavily through her mouth, her heart pounding like mad in her chest.

She saw something in his gaze that looked like he felt pain, his figure creased slightly, as if he had run out of strength.

"God created you to subject me to the ultimate trial. He is torturing me like Job."

She felt a single, warm, heavy tear run down her cheek at his words, her body trembling all over, hot and cold at the same time with desire, though she did not know what kind or what was causing it.

"God sent me to soothe your suffering." She whispered.

They looked at each other like that for a long moment that lasted an eternity, and only after a while did she realise that his silence was due to the fact that he wanted whatever she was going to do to be due to her free will. Therefore, she moved tentatively towards his bed, on which she saw a clean, snow-white sheets, and lay down on her back, putting her shawl aside.

She looked up at him – his gaze was fixed on her, his silhouette sitting in a chair by the window frozen in stillness, the whiteness of his attire seeming to her to shine amidst the candles and the surrounding darkness of the night.

She swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in her throat as her fingers lifted to the ties of her nightgown – she untied the knot, a pleasant squeeze spreading between her thighs, something sticky beginning to leak from it onto the sheet beneath her buttocks.

"– does what I am doing disgust you, my King? – is it a sin? –" She asked, sliding the thin material off her shoulders in a gentle, soft motion, unashamedly revealing her plump, sweet breasts. His gaze fled to them, as if what he had just seen simultaneously terrified and excited him.

"– looking at you, all I feel is desire – it's me sinning in my mind, not you –" He whispered so that she barely heard him, his hand sliding from the table top to his thigh.

Though she knew it was wrong, her whole body screamed, wanting him to touch her, to check for himself how soft and warm her flesh was, her moist, swollen womanhood, pulsing around nothing in desire.

"– not just you, Your Grace –" She muttered in a trembling voice, shamefully mimicking his movements, her long, small fingers sliding down her belly between her thighs, sinking into her warm folds like the moist flesh of an exotic fruit.

His head bowed as they both made a strange, unnatural sound full of surprise at the same moment, a moan as if they had caused each other pain, but yet all she could feel was a wonderful, hot tingling in her quivering womanhood, in her lips, in her nipples, in the tips of her fingertips.

He did not allow her to look at what he was touching under the material of his robe, she could however see the shape of that part of his body outlined on the material – his manhood was long and fat like a piece of stick, growing larger and larger with each squeeze of his hand.

She threw her head back, imagining feeling something that big inside her, in an involuntary reflex finding with her fingertips her puffy slit, slick and tight, resisting her as she tried to slide it inside her.

"– let me see –" He whispered, as if asking for something dirty, disgusting, repulsive.

She, however, felt only the heat of pleasure at his words shake her body – her thighs involuntarily parted, her legs bent at the knees allowing her nightgown to shamelessly reveal all that only her husband should be able to look at.

She felt tears under her eyelids at the thought of wanting to be his wife.

"– you have my love, my King – you have my heart –" She breathed out, digging her fingers deeper into the delicate structure of her folds, teasing again and again the small bud from which her body went through shivers of wonderful, familiar pleasure.

His eyes were fixed on what was between her thighs, his gaze hazy and hot, his breath heavy, the sound of his hand smacking against his flesh sticky and lewd.

"– like the inside of a ripe fruit – like Eve in paradise –" He breathed out, staring at her as if he were looking at something delightful, accelerating the splats of his hand with a low grunt of pleasure. "– so beautiful –"

She felt a thrill of pleasure shake her, shivers ran through her cheeks, breasts and legs at his words, so shameless and yet poetic, beautiful, like the Song of Songs of King David.

"– her breasts are like two fawns –" She hummed, quoting one of the biblical verses, the gaze of her King again fixed on her face, full of fire, heavenly or infernal. "– like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies –"

"– her lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb – milk and honey are under her tongue –" He whispered in reply, quoting another of the songs from the manuscript, making her involuntarily allow her own fingers to invade her insides at last.

She threw her head back with a girlish moan, her free hand gripping the frame of his bed, rolling her hips back and forth, stretching her tight interior with the sticky clicks of her wetness.

"– she is a spring enclosed – a sealed fountain –" He muttered and let out a low, helpless groan of relief, leaning down, his hand lying on the table top clenched into a fist.

She felt a wonderful convulsion shake her body at his words, her fleshy, moist walls beginning to throb and clench around her own fingers.

She imagined that her body had just sucked his seed deep inside her, which would take root in her like a tree, giving him a future and an inheritance.

She moaned as she felt her pleasure reach its peak, seeing for a moment only the darkness before her eyes – her fingers, all wet with her moisture stroked for a moment more the little spot deep inside her, her whole body hot and sweaty from the exertion.

Her release was wonderful and sweet, as if she had tasted the most delicious of fruits.

She opened her eyes and met his gaze, his figure relaxed and spread out comfortably on the chair, his hand laid back on its armrest, his glove sticky with something pearly and shiny.

They breathed loudly for a while, just watching each other – she decided not to cover her body, wanting to give him that pleasure, wishing only his gaze could see her like this.

Bare.

He sighed quietly, cocking his head, his gaze satisfied, indicating that he had clearly made a decision in his heart.

"– I will marry you tomorrow at dawn –"

She blinked and raised herself up on her elbows, horrified.

"– my King – that's not –"

"– I know that this was not your intention – I also know that you will understand that it will be a white marriage, which I will declare to all and sundry – you will not lose your maidenhood – you will not bear me children – the Kingdom will treat you after my death as a saint who stood by the dying King in his misery – when I join my Father in the Heavens, you will be free to remarry –" He explained and she shook her head, feeling offended by his words.

"– I will not take another husband –"

He fell silent and swallowed hard, as if something in the certainty in which she said this moved him deeply.

"– very well – I have only one condition: you will never take off my mask – not even after my death – you will see me as I am only in the Kingdom of Heaven –"

[milaeryn]

Sometimes babygirl is a christian king that died one hundred years ago of leprosy...

[multific]

The Mask and the Veil

King Baldwin IV x Reader

Summary: Disguised as a male physician to avoid being sold into slavery, you are brought to court under false pretences only to discover your patient is the masked king himself.

The robes are too long.

The beard itches against your chin, false and thin. You walk with your shoulders square, your eyes downcast, and your voice lowered to the timbre your father taught you when playing riddles.

A scholar’s daughter disguised as a male physician. One mistake, and you’ll be chained or sold like the others.

But your hands do not tremble.

They bring you through the narrow halls of Jerusalem’s royal palace, past silk-hung windows and braziers burning with bitter-smelling oil.

It’s nearly silent.

The king, they say, is very ill.

Dying, though no one says the word aloud.

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” the steward warns you. “He is... strange. And not fond of noise.”

You’re led to a chamber lit only by dusk-filtered sunlight and the dull gold of censers.

The scent of sandalwood is heavy here, sharp, almost medicinal.

And then you see him.

Seated in a high-backed chair, hands gloved in black, face hidden behind a silver mask.

Young, they said. A boy king.

But the figure before you is no child.

“Leave us,” the king says quietly. His voice is low, steady, tinged with fatigue but unmistakably sovereign.

The steward hesitates.

“Now,” Baldwin adds, not louder, but colder.

You are alone.

The king studies you in silence. You bow low, keeping your eyes respectfully away. But you feel his gaze, sharp as a knife slipping between ribs.

“I’ve had a dozen healers in the past year,” he says finally. “Christian. Arab. Greek. Old men with soft hands and nervous eyes. You are not one of them.”

You stay quiet.

He rises, slowly, like a man in pain.

His steps are careful and controlled. The silver mask catches the fading light.

“Your hands are steady,” he murmurs. “But they are not a man’s.”

Your throat tightens.

“I don’t care,” he continues, surprising you. “If you’re a woman or a ghost. I only care if you know how to stop the pain when it claws through my bones.”

You dare to look at him.

He nods, barely visible. Permission. He gave you permission.

So you step forward and examine him with a healer’s mind.

The sores at his joints are inflamed.

His breath is shallow.

His body smells of sickness, but not rot. Not yet. There’s still time.

You prepare a bandage from the pouch you brought, mixed with oils, crushed myrrh, and poppy.

You speak little. So does he.

But you feel his eyes on you, curious, alive, burning with something that should have died long ago.

The next night, he speaks first.

“Why did you hide yourself to become a physician?”

You answer without thinking. “Because no one listens to a woman’s wisdom unless she wears a man’s face.”

He chuckles, quiet and dry. “Then perhaps I’ve done the same. Worn a face that isn’t mine.”

You glance up. He’s watching the moon through a high window. His voice softens.

“I’m not the king they wanted. Not the warrior. Not the martyr. I only ever wanted to study the stars.”

You don’t know what makes you speak. “Then why be king?”

He turns toward you. “Because they made me.”

And for a moment, there is no veil between you. Just two souls under the weight of expectation.

The intimacy grows slowly.

In wordplay.

In silence.

In the long, dark hours when you sit at his side as he struggles to breathe.

You call him my lord. He calls you physician but always with a curve at the edge of his voice, as if it amuses him to pretend he doesn’t know your truth.

Then, one night, as you smooth a balm across his shoulder, your fingers tremble from how close you are.

He says softly, “You don’t need to wear the beard in my chambers anymore.”

You go still.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark and endless behind the mask. “It doesn’t fool me. It never did.”

You remove it slowly.

He doesn’t smile.

But something in him shifts, quiet and warm. His gloved hand finds yours, carefully.

Your heart pounds.

“I’ve known a great many liars,” he whispers. “But you’re the first whose lies I’ve wanted to keep.”

You don’t speak. You can’t.

Because his thumb is brushing over your knuckles, warm.

And when he leans forward, masked, you meet him halfway.

The kiss is not on the lips, not yet.

Just his forehead touching yours, the brush of silk and sandalwood, and the fire you’ve both been holding back for far too long.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/