#kingdom of heaven fanfic

[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).

[arioloyal]

Cr: @arioloyal

I believe that the most underrated people on social media are artists:)))

Glory to ahura mazda ⚜️🔥

[sunnycanvas]

Hello, can you make one of what Baldwin would be like as a husband, boyfriend or during married life and as a father?

As a lover:

Baldwin IV already has very low expectations when it comes to love. You might also call it non existent

In case he has a crush on some one Baldwin IV would be quite about it and perhaps give prolonged glances to his crush.

Unless he gets a push or you don't approach him. The king will likely won't approach you as well preferring to stay in solitude not wanting to bring you in his "curse"

In case he gets a push to talk to you or you talk to him. Baldwin IV would be happily chatting with you. Trying anything and everything to prolong the conversation as long as he can, he will try not be obvious about his intention

Baldwin IV would reluctantly let you go once your conversation is over and will go back to how it was, so mainly as his s/o you has to take initiative to talk to him

Once you start getting close Baldwin IV would be very fond of your company. Which certainly won't go unnoticed by others and they will try taking advantage of it.

Baldwin IV would try to make time for you out of his tight schedule. Although leprosy has taken away his sensation he will still adore holding your hand or try trancing his fingers on your skin.

Baldwin IV believes he is unfavoured by God so he will have conflicting emotions about being in relationship on which he will confide in his s/o . Once assured Baldwin IV would be very grateful to finally have some one. Who loves him for who he is, doesn't judge him or use him for power. The king surrounded by ambitious people can be lonely at times

Being thrifty Baldwin IV will give expensive gifts to his s/o but upto limitation. His s/o being demanding will quickly turn him off.

He will certainly gift jewelry, dresses etc but his gifts will mainly be personal. Handwritten love letter with passionate declaration of his love for you. Baldwin IV will certainly cherish his s/o handwritten leters treasuring your declaration of love and keeping it safely

Whenever he feels lonely and you don't happen to be there, Baldwin IV will read your letters gently stroking your handwriting. He will also carry small gifts from you. When he leaves for battle or has to travel outside where you can't accompany him

Baldwin IV is aware that people wish to overthrow him and take away his crown so an ambitious s/o trying to find position in court won't won't be helpful. He might get paranoid that his s/o is using him for power or have others get him paranoid about his s/o

However, that doesn't mean Baldwin IV dislikes intelligent women. In fact he loves them. Baldwin IV would love to depend on his s/o about the matters of Kingdom and be his closest adviser but try not be ambitious about power.

Baldwin IV believing that he was cursed by God might feel guilty in being in relationship and will start having thoughts that his s/s deserves better. So he might try to push himself away or slowly form distance with you

You will have to very patient in relationship and be his biggest emotional support. Despite his attempts Baldwin IV will end up failing miserably. He can't see you upset after all. He thinks he is being selfish asking for your company but he can't help it

Baldwin IV loves hugs and kisses. You will find yourself often cuddling him or have him in your arms as he sadly talks about his duties and how he wishes he could retire and run away with you.

You both will often talk about "intelligent conversation". Baldwin IV absolutely adores learning lots of new things from his s/o.

Baldwin IV would love a s/o who would be dependent on him especially when it comes to physical strength. He loves feeling powerful and dominant one in relationship

Husband:

Baldwin IV would be absolutely be expected to marry someone in west or in Byzantine for aid

In case court agrees for him to marry someone else and Baldwin IV would have given up altogether about marrying a noble lady then he will marry you

As his wife Baldwin IV will feel even more open about showing his vulnerabilities. He is a strong commander defending his army but he will be a soft husband who cuddle you at night describing his insecurities and burden of his kingdom

Amount of declaration of love you will be getting would be limitless. He will constantly remind you of it day and night. Even send you handwritten letters about it

Since, he is married to you. His trust for you will be greater. He no longer worries about some random women who might leave him. You are now married to him

Baldwin IV might ask you to accompany him to court meeting and even ask your decision regarding the matter. He might even ask you to join him in military campaign

However he mainly prefers you to stay and protect the kingdom while he is out for military. He will ask you to be regent for the kingdom while he defends it. You will have the maximum amount of time command the kingdom in his absence and even when he is back you will certainly have strong influence on the decision on who gets to stay and who gets what position

Baldwin IV knows people hate you because of how much power you hold as his consort and won't take kindly to anyone talking ill about you. One complain from you will be enough for him to find someone and find an excuse to demote that person. After all an insult to you will be insult to him and Baldwin IV doesn't take well to disrespect

Baldwin IV would now openly gift you from whatever he gets from spoils of war

Both of you will often have books you both share with both of your initials with it

Baldwin IV loves hearing stories be it historical, literature etc. After war when he comes back he will be delighted to find his s/o waiting for him outside. Baldwin IV will go on fondly talking about his military expenditure

He will like talking about historical events or have his s/o talk about historical events or anything else informative and interesting

Baldwin IV would love to fight in your name and honour. He will often carry your favour with him. Your favour be it handkerchief or small personal item gives it immense strength. He will fight for his god, kingdom and you

You will often take care of his health. Many times personally participating as well. Baldwin IV will look at you with absolute adoration as you apply medicine and help him get better believing that God is finally showing him favour by winning war for him and by giving you to him. You will often find Baldwin IV often giving you an intense state while you take care of his wounds

Father (contains slight NSFW):

Baldwin IV really wanted a family with you

His nephew being sickly. He knew he might not survive for long after his death

With your patience and encouragement also with his health drastically improving he will believe in plans of God and have sex with you

His favourite position will be missionary and doggy style

He either gives orgasm denial or overstimulation since he loves you begging him. He loves when his s/o is absolutely submissive in bed moaning and begging him

In fact he loves your moan . Purposely stimulating you to moan and scream his name despite your embarrassment

He will never hurt you of course and will often be gentle but with your permission and can go super rough. You will end up wondering if this is the same man

Once you are pregnant Baldwin IV will over the moon. He will try to come off reserve but will easily give himself away

As a father he will be strict and expect obedience from his children

With his son he will more strict about his education since he will heir to the kingdom. With his daughter, although she will be educated he won't be as strict with her as he won't have much expectation. After all her main job is to marry and secure alliance.

He will absolutely gush about his children in private and public. Any children from you will be absolutely loved by him. He will strive to provide best for the children.

He won't take well if his kids or their mother are being ridiculed for being related to leper. As as result he ends up feeling guilty about starting his family and will end up confiding his s/o about it. He might also try to purposely marginalize the nobleman who dared to upset his family. You might end up intervening, Baldwin IV values your opinion a lot. So he will stop

He absolutely trust you about you taking care about everything including education about his children so he often doesn't intervene unless his s/o asks for it. You mainly need to ask what you need regarding children and he will provide without a second thought. Perhaps one or two questions but that's it

Baldwin IV would often take the main part of scolding the kids especially if they disrespect you or him

Overall he will try to be strict parent

[cheesy-cryptid]

Finally rendered my fanart for my current obsession “On the Night Train” by the incredible @gaudybaudy !!! ( PLS GIVE THIS AMAZING FIC ALL THE LOVE IT DESERVES🥰🥰🥰)) Slight spoilers though because this particular scene happens later in the story.

Heres the link to the fic! https://tinyurl.com/yv48y7u2

Genuinely I just reread the previous chapters while waiting for the next one and i guess the creative juices just kept flowing when i made this 😋

[tobeahundred]

Aere Perennius

Chapter Twenty Five: The Battle of Montgisard

TW: War and Violence

“Deus le veult!” The crusaders chanted in unison as they approached the Saracen army in a dauntingly slow, steady march. The foot soldiers formed a strong line behind them, while the crossbow men prepared to fire. As they approached within an arrows shot of the Ayyubids, the crusaders increased their pace, charging across the battlefield atop their warhorses with their lances lowered and swords raised proudly above their heads. The crossbowmen fired their weapons, bolts shattering enemy shields and armor. They carved through the scrambling infidels, making their ranks crumble like sand. “For St. George! For Jerusalem! For King Baldwin! ” Jerusalem has come.

Read more here

This art was made for me by the AMAZING Ionee Beruru. Please follow her on Cara or on Facebook. --

If you like my story please please consider supporting organizations like Doctors Without Borders and the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund.

[incorrect-koh-posts]

You said "which is a tragedy in its own right as far as my tastes are concerned, but I digress", but I'm curious to hear your thoughts on this. I hope it's okay to ask, but what kind of fics/pairings would you like/prefer to see emerge from the fandom?

Of course it's okay to ask, dear anon!

Personally? I'd love to see more variety. One of the chief reasons why I enjoy reading fan fiction is finding new things I like - perhaps some pairing I hadn't considered before, some batshit premise or crossover that turns out to be actually brilliant, or maybe a cool genfic that explores previously unseen sides of a character or character dynamic that people don't write about very often. I'm not really the kind of person who seeks out fic based on specific tropes. Once I've read a story with a certain trope in a fandom, it's pretty unlikely that I'll go and read another one with a very similar premise, unless I really enjoy the author's writing.

So what I'd be excited about seeing in the AO3 tag would honestly just be: something new. For instance, a sapphic Sibylla/OC fic would be such a fascinating read (as would be anything at all that explores Sibylla's character a bit more). Or a Saladin-centric fic - sign me the hell up. I'd adore finding something for Godfrey or Imad, and we all know a new Tiberias fic would have me foaming at the mouth. I'd also love an interesting and/or wacky AU (and I'd write one myself if I had the time). Make it Jane Austen and let Baldwin have a gentleman suitor, while Sibylla elopes Lydia-Bennett style with Guy, and Godfrey and Raymond grump about in the Navy. Write a daemon AU (as in His Dark Materials) in the canonical universe. Or throw them all into the 21st century and let Reynald send Saladin threatening messages via fax.

I know the KoH fandom is much too small to engender the sort of variety I'd ideally like to see, and it's only reasonable for writers to sort of double down upon the fic premises and tropes that have done well in terms of hits and comments in the past and write more of the stuff the majority enjoys. As far as taste goes, I'm aware I'm the complete outlier here, and I really don't mean to antagonise anybody with this post or insult their writing or reading preferences. I'm glad your fics are doing well, folks, I truly am - it's only that I'm very likely not the target audience for them. Sometimes I just wish I weren't the only freak in the circus, lol.

(The post anon is referring to is this one btw.)

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

I keep thinking about Baldwin's wife cheating... At chess

It's that meme of "the smart kid, not understanding how he's losing to me/me, who's been hiding his pieces when he's not looking"

He's 100% aware, but how can he deny his wife a little bit of mischief?

♡ Checkmate! - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for the cute request! I hope it turned out like you wanted it to. Sorry that it's so short, I figured it would work better as a oneshot. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy

P.S: IM BACK EVERYONE!! School is FINALLY calming down so I can write again!!

“Checkmate! I won again, that's five times in a row!” the young queen shouted with excitement.

“I guess you did. Well done!” Baldwin chuckled, a smile of amusement forming behind the silver mask as his wife wrote down another tally mark on her side of the parchment, signaling yet another win.

“I don't know how you keep beating me at this,” the king said grinning.

“I'm just better than you!” y/n teased in reply.

Baldwin smiled in adoration at his beloved. Every night since their wedding, the young couple sat down and played five rounds of chess before retiring to bed.

And every night, y/n had won best out of five.

It wasn't that the king that was letting her win, it was that it was impossible.

Technically.

Since the young queen had taken to hiding chess pieces underneath her skirt whilst she thought he wasn't looking.

Baldwin had noticed the first time she did it and did not mention it, just to see what would happen. He had chuckled with delight when his wife had shouted “checkmate!” in excitement, knowing full well she had more than half of his pieces underneath her dress.

Ever since then, he had watched her hold back laughter while cheating confidently.

She was completely unaware that he knew about it. Even taunting at how he just couldn't beat her! He thought it was the most adorable thing in the world.

Baldwin never thought once about telling her he knew the secret.

He simply couldn't go without seeing her so happy, and how could he deny her a little fun.

He felt lucky that she even played with him, since she claimed “how boring it was” on the first night he had asked her to a game.

Perhaps this was her way of making it fun for herself.

“I'll clean up! You get ready for bed” y/n stated without getting up.

This was how it would go. She would insist for her to be the one to pack up the chess pieces into position, then take them out from under her dress while thinking he would never know.

Baldwin simply chuckled and stood to get changed while his wife disposed of the evidence.

He removed his mask, placing it on the side table before changing out of his robes to comfortable sleepwear. As the young king settled under the covers, y/n came in grinning at his defeat once again.

“Undefeated once again my love” Baldwin cooed.

Y/n giggled as she too changed out of her robes, crawling into bed beside him.

“I'm so much better than all of those others you have played. Even your sister says she can't beat you!” the queen said through laughter at her own taunts.

“Oh yess soo much better” Baldwin replied, wrapping his arms around his wife and burying his bandaged face into the softness of her hair.

Y/n rubbed her husbands back soothingly before speaking again, “you will beat me one day, don't worry!”.

The king looked down at his wife's smiling face, “I’m sure I will”.

[nebbyy]

King Baldwin IV x reader - I’ll be waiting for you

A/N: Well, how could I not make another fic for King Baldwin when the other one I made is my most liked post yet, so I decided to write this little pieceee. Sooo I guess I should warn y'all that this one will be a little less historically accurate (not that the first one was that great of a historical piece but you get the idea). Oh and as usual, this fic came into my mind the moment I saw the painting just below (which is "the Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets Over the Dead Bodies of Romeo andJuliet" by sir Frederic Leighton)Now enough chatting, more King Baldwin brainrot. 

Summary: in a desperate attempt to protect his kingdom after having punished Reynald de Chatillon, the king is exhausted and the long ride has increasingly worsened his already wary condition. Once he’s escorted back to the palace, his loving wife wastes no time to reunite with her beloved husband.

Warnings: kinda angsty (no happy ending tbh), vague descriptions of Baldwin’s illness related wounds. Also, reader specifically described as female.

Word count: 3209

You sat on your throne, high and proud like the royalty you were. But under the facade of your noble confidence, you felt small. Smaller than ever, actually, as the yelling of all the men in front of you filled the air and rose up to the open sky. With a simple, reckless act, Reynald de Chatillon and Guy de Lusignan had just screwed years of efforts that King Baldwin had spent trying to maintain that delicate peace that required so many lives and time to build. All washed away from the raging river that were Reynald and Guy. 

While the two men tried to defend their senseless attack, backed by a substantial group of men, another opposing group shouted at them, berating them for the offense they had given not only to Saladin but also to Jerusalem itself.

You sigh, fighting the urge to cover your ears, and curl into your own body; you opt to just turn your head and look at your beloved husband. He looked to be in a similar state as you were: although his face was now fully covered -a means of hiding the decaying state of his leprosy-ridden body- his head was bent with weary alertness, like a hawk watching its prey from a distance. You watched his body, languidly seated on his much larger throne, the only sitting position that brought him no discomfort, though it looked almost more like he was about to lie down. 

It broke your heart to see how that disease had ravaged Baldwin's body, in recent years more and more. To see him there, on the same throne on which he once sat tall and proud, while now he barely had the strength to stay upright. And you knew he was thinking the very same thing.

You were about to open your mouth, whisper something to him, anything, in order to shake him out of his thoughts and that chaotic situation, but you were interrupted in your actions by an official, who rushed to the king's side, handing him a scroll. His bandaged hands clumsily opened the scroll, and you found salvation from the noise of the room by concentrating on watching Baldwin read carefully. You watched his eyes, blue as the sky and like the waves of the sea that brought you to the Holy Land, now covered with a pale glassy glaze. 

You frowned when you heard Baldwin freeze in place, even his sitting became more erect, as if a cube of ice had slid down his back. With his gaze still fixed on the words written in that letter, he merely raised his hand slightly, a clear sign of his will.

"SILENCE!" his guard's shout resounded through the hall, overpowering the furious shouts of the men who had been barking at each other for hours now. They all turned to look at the king; their faces, a few moments ago darkened and wrinkled with anger, were now smooth and relaxed, their eyebrows raised in astonishment at their king's order. Funny, you thought, how these men because of your husband's condition sometimes simply forget how much power he possessed over them. Before it was as if he wasn't even in the room, and they were all playing at being great leaders, now there they were, staring at him, motionless as statues, submissive as ants. You curled your nose discreetly, your face a mixture of disgust and contempt. Pathetic, you thought.

After what seemed like an eternity, Baldwin finally looked up at the crowd in front of him, finally revealing what it was that had shocked him so much. "Saladin has crossed the Jordan with 200000 men," silence fell, and you felt your body going numb. Your ears seemed muffled, you could barely perceive what was happening around you. At that moment you felt so much fear for your kingdom, and concern for Baldwin and what this impending attack would cost him.

And anger, against those two fools who out of sheer vanity had endangered the lives of all the inhabitants of Jerusalem. They had put Jerusalem itself at risk; they had put Baldwin at risk.

I was brought to attention by Baldwin, who was struggling to pull himself up from his throne, walking toward his most trusted man. "We must meet him before he reaches Kerak. I will lead the army," your husband's voice was hushed and soft, so that only the man in front of him could hear. But it did not escape your ears, the implication those words had: Baldwin wants to stop Saladin, and he wants to do it himself. But this could cost him his life. 

You couldn't stop yourself; you jumped up from your seat, eyes wide in an expression somewhere between fear and surprise. Baldwin turned to look at you, the woman who always took his breath away at the mere sight of how beautiful she was. You did not fail to have that effect on him again this time, but not because of your beauty: in your eyes he saw your terror, that this was the last time you would see him alive. They hypnotized him, and begged him in a silent prayer not to leave, to give up this plan, have an ambassador sent, anyone else. Hell, let him send Guy himself to intercept the Saracen, let him be beheaded and his murder settle the account that he himself opened. But the storm of emotion in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotion flowing from your eyes

But the storm of emotions in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotions flowing from Baldwin's eyes, barely visible because of the cover concealing his tortured face. He too, through them, was silently pleading with you: but he was asking you to trust, to let go and follow his plan, to try to forget for at least a moment all the warnings the Physicians had given him over the years.

Eventually, you relented, turning your gaze away and opting to stare at a random spot in the corner of the room. Baldwin gave a silent sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, a sign of gratitude, although you could not see it. He turned to the men of his court, and with the little strength his body afforded him, he spoke in a loud, determined voice: "Assemble the army and protect the city."

All this reminded you of the last time Baldwin fought Saladin: he had barely completed his seventeenth year, and young and still full of life, he was ready to ride against the invincible Saracen king. But on that day God had been more merciful. He had granted you, if nothing else, one last night to spend with your husband, had given you the gift of a minimum of time to ensure that you bid Baldwin a proper farewell before he met what could well have been his end. Instead this time, you barely had time to briefly remove the thick veil from his face to give him a fleeting kiss and exchange a handful of words. You fought back the tears as you looked at him, opting instead to bring your hand to his cheek, the flesh of his lip having receded and decayed to such an extent that it had receded down to his cheek, eventually turning into a long scar that protruded down to his cheekbone.

"Let me go with you, I will wait for you at the castle of Reynald de Chatillon-" "No. It is too dangerous. If things go wrong with the negotiations, I don't want you or my sisters anywhere near that man." It was not often that Baldwin interrupted you while you were speaking. He respected you too much to not allow you to finish your sentences, so the fact that he did just now spoke of how important this was to him. 

"Then promise me you’ll come back to me. Safe and sound." He snorted softly, giving a hint of smile before copping his face with his hardened hands, "You know I can’t promise it." You know that, but that blatant honesty of his, which you always loved so much, was not what you wanted at the time. No, you wanted reassurance, no matter how truthful, no matter how worthless his promises may be at the end of the day, You need that fleeting distraction that mitigates the fear that’s been eating you from the inside since Baldwin put on his armor. May you risked never seeing him again.

"Please just say it." Your voice came out much softer than you meant, almost less than a whisper, perhaps because of the knot in your throat, which threatened to break free carrying a river of tears. For a moment he remained silent, turning suddenly his face towards the voice of a nobleman who called him from the entrance of his room, but did not even dignify him with an answer. After all, his attention was completely turned to his world. To you. Before I answered you, I drew your head to his with my hands, so that I could place his forehead against yours. Finally, he spoke softly, in that loving tone that he reserved only for you: "Then I promise you that I will return to you in no more than three days, and when I return I will be victorious, and I will be riding."

After that, that moment between the two of you, which so much looked like a heartbreaking farewell, lasted just before Baldwin had to go to his horse to guide his men to the enemy.

And it wasn’t long before the harsh reality became clear to you: he had lied to you. Not maliciously, of course, you were the one who begged him to say those words after all. But the fact is that three days became four, that news of the army of Jerusalem had not come any more, that the last thing you heard of your husband was that only the ride had already tried his weakened body.

Another day passed, then another, and at the dawn of the fourth day since his absence you felt your heart sink. Had something happened to him? Had the negotiations failed? What if his illness had suddenly got the better of him? Or worse, Saladin and his men had shot him, stabbed him, or yet again captured and publicly executed,…

Your mind began to spiral into an ocean of possible reasons behind this delay, and you swore that your breathing had finally stopped once and for all when a messenger on horseback arrived at the palace, frantically dismounting from his steed to rush into the throne room and bring you the message: "The negotiations were successful, but the king is in critical condition! He is returning to Jerusalem on a canopy," you dismissed the man with a slight wave of your hand, so weak that you almost looked numbed; Baldwin's advisors began to chatter, but the background murmur of their murmurs did not seem to reach your ears. No, your attention was elsewhere; it was entirely on your husband.

You took your leave of the court, hurrying to your rooms. There, like a hawk waiting impatiently for prey to feed on, you perched on the balcony overlooking the city below you, on the walls from which not many days ago Baldwin had emerged leading the army.

It was there that you began to think again, this time with a clearer mind as you knew that at least Baldwin was alive and on his way home. On his way to you. Still, this whole situation reminded you of when you were only sixteen years old, and you stood on that balcony as you do now, waiting to see Baldwin return on his horse. And on that day, when he was visible to the naked eye, and your eyes met, you saw all the life and strength of one who had just defeated the greatest enemy of his time. At that moment, he seemed almost immortal to you: he looked like a god riding proudly, leading the thousands of men behind him towards their home.

How unfair fate is, to cut short his life so early. His physicians gave him no more than thirty years, but that time seemed to you to be shortened even more when you finally caught sight of his canopy. There he lay, sprawled and motionless like a dead body, surrounded by the soft cushions and riders on either side of his transport.

Just two years ago such a journey would not have fatigued him in the least; now he was risking his life just by riding a horse. Your eyes threatened to fill with tears thinking about how much he had loved riding a horse, and now he found himself bedridden, unable in his passions. You wasted no time running through the palace corridors, eager to reach your beloved as soon as possible.

One turn to the right, then another, then down the steps, and finally straight to the palace doors, where the finely decorated canopy led the love of your life.

You rushed to his side, gently taking his mutilated hand in yours while the other stroked his masked face. He breathed faintly, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his strength after his disease had dealt him this last bludgeon. Feeling your gentle touch, Baldwin's eyes fluttered open, his glassy eyes the color of heaven meeting yours.

"You've been reckless, my love. Putting your life at risk just to do the job of a messenger!" you scolded him, but Baldwin only smiled fondly at your words. "I promised you I would've come back. And that I did, alive too." Although his voice was so weak that it sounded more like a huff of air rather than a sentence, its tone was still laced with playfulness.

It made you unable to resist the smile that was threatening to form on your lips; you did not grace him with an answer yet, opting instead to move your hand to remove the silver mask from his face. You could see his surprised and relieved expression, as he was now finally able to breathe more freely and to look at you properly. He breathed in the sight of you, almost as if trying to take in as much of you as he could. "I can't tell if it's the travel or the sight of you that takes my breath away."

You just smiled bitterly and shook your head at his silly declarations, "It must be the ride, it has tired you so much that it's making you speak nonsense." he giggled weakly, much more tiredly this time, almost as if he was about to doze off. But he fought the tiredness nonetheless, opting to just shake his head and admire you with a lovestruck look. "Maybe I am hallucinating, I think I'm seeing heaven above me."

It was supposed to be a compliment that would've made you giggle and blush, like the ones that he showered you with daily. But instead, it made your heart clench at the bare idea of it. The idea that this would be his last moments before the energies spent for this expedition would be too much for him to handle, and God will reclaim his most virtuous man. It made your throat tighten, and your lower lip tremble.

You tried to hide your troubled state, moving your hand quickly to the curve of his neck. There, you placed a soft, butterfly-like kiss on the little places of skin that haven't been mutilated and bloodied by the leprosy. You kissed him one more time, then another, and another again..

In the end, you lost count of how many kisses you had given him, in a desperate attempt to mend your premature grief, to ground yourself in the feeling that Baldwin is there. He is alive. Yet the feeling of his skin against yours, of his chest rising up and down and his arms weakly holding your soft body, it wasn't enough to stop the tears to start flowing down your cheeks.

And that didn't go unnoticed to Baldwin, who mustered all his strength left to hold you just a little tighter. "Have my words upset you?" you sniffled, trying to recollect yourself before lifting your head to look into his eyes. "No, my dear, you could never. I just-" you stopped for a second, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat, "promise me this is the last time. Please, tell me that you will stop this nonsense. Let your trusted men handle these matters, command your man like a king not a general!" your hands had moved to his arms, a gesture to both ground yourself and to accentuate just how desperate you were in that moment, only wanting him to just listen.

"I beg of you, my love, stay here. Where you can rest. We both know that you don't have much more time left to live, so stop doing everything in your power to shorten it anymore." A sob slipped from your mouth at the last part. It truly astonished you how careless he seemed about his own condition, almost as if he forgot that any move could be the death of him.

He frowned and sighed at your words, squeezing your forearms softly before he spoke softly. This time though his tone was clearer, less weakened by the outcomes of the past days. "I already spoke to the physician about this: I have no choice, my angel. I'll be bound to my bed until a miracle will better my condition, or until death will take me."

You shut your eyes in relief, resting your forehead against his and sighing shakily, trying to recompose yourself. "I can't live in a world without you.."

"God will give us more time. I promise I won't leave you as long as I breathe on this earth. And. when my time will be over and there will be no future for us in this life, I'll be waiting for you in heaven, if I'll be granted the blessing of a place next to you there."

Not too long after, the physicians that Saladin had promised him arrived at the palace, and you were assisted as they tended to Baldwin's many wounds caused by his sickness. More than the sight of the gruesome pieces of open flesh, what appalled you was just how numb his body had become, so much so that he did not even feel their hands and tools working into his skin. It made you wonder wether or not he even felt your kisses from before.

And you make yourself that same question months later, when you place one last kiss into his forehead as he slept soundly before going to bed yourself, only to wake up to a cold body beside you. You wonder if he ever got to feel that last gesture of love before God had finally claimed him.

You only found solace in the thought that Baldwin would be resting in the realms of heaven above your head, contrary to what the Saracens believe.

A/N: Wowww this gets more fun by the day!! King Baldwin will probably always be my favorite character to write for. He’s my muse. As always ill be waiting for your feedbacks!!!

Oh and also, be prepared in the future for more fics waiting to be posted, I’ve got about ten that are just waiting for the right time to come to light, and many more will come in the future since I’m really finding it therapeutic to write.

[isaodra]

these are baldwin and luceria from @tobeahundred ‘s fanfic and this is my attempt at doing a fanart 😭

honestly it was sooo fun doing this watercolor!! but again, i had a lot of problems when scanning it. the colors are so so much better outside the screen

anyways, go read Aere Perennius !!! its an amazing fic and the main couple are such sweethearts…

[valenli]

Baldwin IV x Reader

Imagine you meet the king as a foreign princess, and you two are to be wed? But to your surprise. The king is all for it

(warnings: mention of skin disease, stitches, detailed explanations for violent scenes)

(this fic is in no way tied to the real figure, this is only for the movie interpretation. As I do not write for real figures (dead or alive))

For the longest time, I never thought I'd find love a man who was not only a man of God, but would too love me. My mother, after all, was nothing more than a concubine. So I didn't quite have a good example from her nor father who couldn't set his eyes on one. But that all changed when Jerusalem called to many kingdoms, many were there to feel the presence of God, and so was I. I were to travel on my own but it seemed as though father had other plans. Every night that got closer to Jerusalem, whether by ship or horse, I could hear him speak with the advisers and other higher ups of a wedding, mine. I did not wish to get upset just yet, for I prayed heavily that the man I meet is someone with a wise, excellent, and beautiful heart, for faces did not matter once one was in heaven. But on the 7th night, something had happened. While we rested round a campfire in order to rest from the morning heat waves, we heard horses of at least 9 or so men rushing are way, father said these may be pilgrims, and that we need not to worry. But as they came closer it seemed they were none other than knights, dressed in pure white and red cross at the center of the chest. Father got up and waved at them, but a horse man swang his sword straight into his hand, cutting a chunk of skin out. I couldn't hold but the scream I let out as the blood hit my dress, I curled up against my horse when I felt a second horseman strike against my leg, only a cut but it no less hurt. They were ready to strike a final blow but I could see a blue clothed horseman arrive, he stood before us and looked at the white clothed horseman.

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

"do these look like locals, Guy? Have you any clue the harm you have caused against your king?" said the blue clothed horseman

"I have not a clue of what your talking about Tiberias. These people are in the boarders of our enemies, are they not are enemies?" the white clothed horseman who's name seemed to be Guy seemed all smug, or at least arrogant at best, in his answer. He seemed to not care that I had been cut, nor my father who held to his injury.

"these people, Guy, are the bride to be and her father. Had you have asked, they'd already been at the castle discussing matters beyond your small minded arrogance!" the man in blue, Tiberias, seemed familiar to father, as father tried to reach out to him. Soon the white clothed men who hurt us got us up and carried our things, by dawn we were at the castle. What a shame it was nighttime, for the city, and castle, were beautiful. Some physicians stitched my father's injuries and mine, and I were to meet his highness, my groom to be. In the bright morning I headed to his quarters, I felt at ease once opening the door, For it was just him, and me.

---------

Baldwin moved the headwrap away from his face, seeing that my groom to be was masked. I could only wonder why, had he committed a crime? Was he afraid of being spied on? It was common for the women to hide their face before marriage, but I'd never seen a man do it.

"ah, Y/N. You have arrived, I have hoped in one piece, but you were harmed. For which the man who laid hands upon you will be harmed, no doubt in that" he said as he rose up from his chair and gestured for me to follow, we reached the balcony and I looked over at him, then at the city.

"your highness.. It's unnecessary for you to punish him" I said as I turned my head back to the man I stood with, "he did not purposely harm me". I felt the king shake his head and hold my hand, "no, my dear Y/N. But he would have harmed another's life, innocent or not. As a knight, it is his only duty, as demanded by God, to never lay a finger on a innocent". Listening to him speak, it moved something in my heart I had not felt for anyone I had ever known, Yes, I was his soon to be bride, but I couldn't help but feel something. "Y/N. Just as it is the duty of a king to protect his people, it is my duty as your husband to protect you. I promise, even with my condition" he said, I could see his eyes looking away as though he felt ashamed, but of what?

"what condition your highness?" I held his hand more firmly, to which he did not respond, not even a finger moved on his hand

"i am a lepper king, my dear, that is the matter. My body is weak, yes, but I won't let it stop me" he looked back at me. He noticed I held his hand firmly when he looked down at mine, I saw his eyes smile at the sight

"your highness, you love me so even though we have no knowledge of one another, why?"

"for you see Y/N, a marriage is bond between man and woman, a bond of flesh to flesh, it is God's blessing to the people, and if God has blessed me with such a bride as you, Y/N, then who am I to deny it?" he spoke with such a heartfelt tone, I knew in that moment that this was the man of my prayers. I couldn't help but feel tears run down my face. I knew that his condition could bring his end, but I wanted to love him to the day we depart from the earth. I placed my hand on his mask and wanted to lay a kiss on his lips, but he gently stopped me.

"you need to know the lips you lay your kiss upon, as you are my wife, I want you to be sure" He said as he pulled down the mask. A cut through his lips and right cheek was the first thing I saw, his missing nose, and his small blonde hairs coming down from the headwrap. He held my hand as though he asked of what I thought. "my Baldwin.. Your a beautiful man, why you are afraid I can understand, but I love you not for your looks, but the heart" i said as I leaned to him, I felt his lips touch mine. I closed my eyes and placed my hands upon his cheeks, i knew in that moment that all my days of waiting, my prayers, my journeys, were worth having him. We soon left one another's lips

"I love you till the day we part, Baldwin"

"I love you, for everyday I live in your name, Y/N"

[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 –"

[arioloyal]

New cover for my fanfic:

🟢⚪️🔴 🔵⚪️

Cr: me

A/n : I have no idea for the background 😶‍🌫️...well...what do you think?

(Glory to ahura mazda ✨️.)

[sunnycanvas]

Hello, I love how you write and the most beautiful narrative way. Could you do one of balwin taking care of his pregnant wife?

"Careful" Baldwin IV warned as he helped me get out of bed. My feet had swollen due to pregnancy. I felt embarassed by my own body. Baldwin IV noticing my discomfort kissed my forehead and said "Don't worry, you are beautiful". I couldn't help but doubt his words. "Does he even understand not only I have physical changes but emotional one as well". Ever since Baldwin IV learnt about my pregnancy he has treated me like piece of glass. He refused me to do any physical labour, even going as far as refusing me to leave bed. We had a huge fight about it. Baldwin IV kept on insisting that it's our first child. He was finally blessed by God to be father and Kingdom too will have heir. There was no way he is risking this opportunity. After lots of fight and request from my part Baldwin IV finally agreed however he insisted that I shift to his room and stay with him all time. In case I wish to leave the bed, I need to inform him so that he could escort me.

Baldwin IV carefully guided me to bathroom. As soon as we step in he closed the door and started striping me. I was staring myself in front of giant mirror. I was ashamed when I looked at my body again. I could see strech marks in my torso. My body had become fuller than before. I was in such a deep thought that I missed looked of adoration from my husband. It wasn't until he started started caressing my stomach that I finally noticed. Once I noticed and started staring back at him he smiled and kissed both of my cheeks. "You have made me happiest man alive" "Mon amour, never doubt my love for you" . "Come it's time to give you a bath". Baldwin IV ensured that I sat down for bath safely. He soon began filling my bath tub with warm water. Knowing how much I prefer it. I was still sad about everything. Could it be because of pregnancy? I couldn't help but feel anxious about future. Thoughts like "Will I be good mother?". "Will my husband still love me after my breast has become saggy and my hips and stomach covered in strech marks?"

"Mon amour, look at me" my husband called me in his commanding voice. Once I noticed him. Baldwin IV started stripping. I became shy and attempted to look elsewhere

"No, see it all before you look elsewhere" this time he was gentler while speaking to me. Hesitantly I looked back at him. I saw scars and disfigurement of his body. He soon took his pants off and now I couldn't help but lust after his body. Baldwin IV slowly walked where I was standing and said "See this is how I feel when I look at you" Baldwin IV laughed and said "No matter what, at least you will be better than leper". I was hurt knowing how insecure my husband is when it comes to his own body. Even though he is comfortable now he refuses to show his face preferring to hide it behind the veil instead

"Now you know how I feel" he replied and I grew quite. Baldwin IV went inside the bath tub with me and carefully hugged me from behind making me sit on his lap, squishing my boobs with his arms saying "Your pregnancy has made me want to have sex with you more"

" You look so beautiful while pregnant with my child but unfortunately we can't do that". "It hurts to see you looking at your self with disgust and being anxious about yourself". I couldn't help but cry a bit at his response. Baldwin IV wiped my tears and kissed my cheeks and pecked my lips. Once I was okay he took a mug filled with warm water and poured it over my head. I moaned in bliss and Baldwin IV started kissing my neck. He also washed my hair gently massaging my scalp and washed my body thoroughly with soap. Once we were done he helped me get dressed and took me to bed.

"Where are is all the food which I asked to be brought here" he shouted he angry. "Mon amour, please wait for a moment" he left the room angry. Soon bunch of maids came apologetic with food. I could here my husband mumbling angrily. He soon placed the food on the table and said "Now leave us come back after 30 minutes". Once they are gone Baldwin IV attempted to feed me with his hand. "We talked about this" I said in in anger. Baldwin IV replied back "I can't help it" "Fine feed yourself if you want"

"No, actually never mind". Baldwin IV gave me 'are you serious' look before continuing once we were done. He said "The maids will come back again to take care of you in my absence " "Make sure to-"

"Yes, I remember don't go far away and no physical labour" "Now leave"

"Not before my good luck kiss" he leaned and kissed me before leaving for work. Once I was left alone the maids came it with jeweller. "My, lady" he bowed before continuing "His majesty the king has insisted to choose whatever you like and he will pay" I couldn't help but smile at his pampering . I felt immense joy to have such a caring husband and felt ridiculous to doubt his feelings towards me

[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

[tobeahundred]

Aere Perennius

Chapter 26: Dreams and Starlight [Arc One Ending]

Midas sits in his kingdom come His mighty throne aglow A blessing, the curse of alchemy A splendor to behold A tormented heart, he must abstain From human touch's bliss For all he grasps transforms to gold An eternal, corrupted kiss The king now longs for freedom's reach To feel the world anew But still his kingdom, once his wish Remains a gilded view Midas prays for heaven’s grace A peace he’ll live to see And sometimes when he dares to dream Midas dares to dream of me All I dream is to feel your touch To take your hands to hold To caress you with my fingertips As you turn me into gold

Read more

Since the very inception of this story, in my mind, Baldwin has always been conceived as this Holy Midas figure. A person driven by these noble intentions, but also possessing this touch that can “corrupt”. I wondered what it would be like to fall in love with someone whose touch can literally transform you.

Since I wrote it, I’ve been wanting to share my poem and ending for so long, and I’m thrilled that I finally get the chance to.

The art I commissioned from the talented Valecnty. Please check out their Instagram. They did a stunning job on the details and capturing Baldwin and Lucy.

If you’ve read my little fan fiction thank you so much! This completes arc one of Aere Perennius. I’ll be taking a break from writing for a bit but I hope you’ve enjoyed the story so far.

(This isn’t the ending to the story guys we still have 3 more parts to go 🧍‍♂️)

[incorrect-koh-posts]

Hiiiiii! I get really shy with commenting on people's works idk why but I just wanted to say that I really really love your tiberias series! He's one of my top faves and you're the only person I have seen who writes for him! You're very talented! I can't wait for Isolt and tiberias to have some romantic scenes lol! Hope you're having a good day/night! 💓

Aww, thank you so much, kind anon - this really made my day this morning! 🤍

Yes, as far as I know, I'm the only one writing for Tiberias in the KoH fandom. Which is a bit lonely at times, but perhaps someone else will join me in my delusion someday, haha. I'm all the more happy you like my fic! There'll be plenty of romance going forward, I promise. Well, some more agonised suffering first, but then they'll move on to the wooing.

Also: no need to be shy about interacting with me / my stuff here or on AO3, I'm not in the habit of biting people :)) Have a lovely day as well!