#royal beggars

[lastxprophecy]

Royal Beggars // Architects

Please don’t remove my caption

[silverspectre51]

Summoning the Boy King

Darkseid was rampaging through Metropolis, Superman was injured, and the Justice League was desperate. As the League hid between fallen skyscrapers, John Constantine prepared a last-ditch effort to save the Earth.

The Hellblazer drew an intricate sigil on the ground; its circular design stretching over six feet in diameter. Most of the symbols within were space-related, while the others were themed to royalty. Batman, one of the few heroes in-the-know, grunted.

"Are you sure this king ghost can help?"

Constantine sighed and pinched his nose.

"He's the High King of the Infinite Realms, Bats, an' he's bloody powerful. He'll stop Darkseid, alright, but what he does afterward is anyone's guess. Believe me, I wouldn't be doin' this if we had a choice."

Batman sighed and glanced at the smoke-filled horizon.

"Alright, get on with it, then. We're running out of time."

Constantine nodded and placed a single offering in the center of the sigil: a squishmallow of Disney's iconic blue alien, Stitch.

"I beg your finest pardon," Batman sputtered, "What on Earth is that?"

Constantine sighed again as he took his position at the edge of the sigil.

"Mate, the book was very specific. Unlike his predecessor, the new king requires a single offering of space or alien theme that is suitable for children. It's bloody strange, but beggars can't be choosers."

Batman just shook his head and looked on. Constantine raised his hands and started the summoning chant. An eerie, green glow spread across the sigil, and light fog gathered above it. Little white orbs floated up from the ground and spiraled together, forming the slowly spinning visage of a spiral galaxy.

"Incredible..." Zatanna gasped, "This summoning is on a level all its own. This king of yours is on the level of Gods."

Finally, something began to form over the small galaxy. Batman's expression quickly softened, much to the surprise of his teammates. It was mere seconds before they understood, as a black blob full of white stars formed into the shape of a boy. The blob had spiky 'bangs' if you could call them that and eerie, glowing green eyes.

The squishmallow floated into the boy's arms and he squeezed it excitedly. At the same time, he took on a far more human form, with pale skin and snowy white hair. His eyes had whites now but still glowed green. He was dressed in black and white, royal attire with green accents, a black crown floating in a green aurora, and a black ring with a green stone. A black cape flowed down his back, its underside looking as if it were cut from a clear night sky.

"Awesome offering, dude! What can I do for ya?"

The voice was a reedy tenor in the throes of puberty, and its owner was more than a little geeky. The boy's smile was infectious, or it would have been were it not for the specific circumstance.

"How old are you?" Batman asked, his tone soft, "We weren't expecting a child."

The boy waved him off like it was nothing.

"No one ever does. And, um... technically I'm fifteen. I know, I don't look it."

Constantine cut in, clearly out of patience.

"Look, this monster Darkseid is destroying our world. We need you to stop him."

The boy turned in the air and took in the destruction around him. Somehow, he seemed to understand the situation immediately.

"Okay, but I gotta get permission first. This'll take a lot of power." He paused, taking a breath, and then yelled in a strange language. "Mom!"

Constantine paled and the other heroes shrank back as a green portal tore into existence. A young woman, barely an adult herself, floated out. She had waist-length blue hair and the same glowing, green eyes. She wore a royal outfit in white and maroon, complete with a glittering, silver tiara studded with rubies.

"What's the matter, Danny? Are you okay?"

Danny nodded.

"Mhmm! These guys need me to take out this Darkseid guy, though. Can I use my full power?"

Constantine snuck a drink from his flask. He did not sign up to deal with the fucking Queen Mother of the Infinite Realms, nor had he known she existed. God, he needed a smoke...

The Queen Mother smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her son's forehead. She spoke whilst taking his new plush.

"Yes, Danny, you may. Let me hold onto this for you so it doesn't get dirty."

Danny nodded and turned away.

"Okay, thanks mom!"

The Queen Mother vanished through and with the portal she had created. Moments later, Danny shot off into the city, with the remaining able-bodied heroes hot on his trail. The young king reached Darkseid rather quickly, engaging him while the Leaguers looked on from cover. Darkseid was foolishly amused.

"A child dares oppose me? Flee, whelp."

Batman tensed as Darkseid unleashed his Omega Effect. Two red beams shot from his eyes, and yet the young king floated firm. Two eerie, green beams shot from his own eyes and, to the shock of everyone, overpowered his foe's. Darkseid shattered into many tiny pieces which then vanished into thin air.

"Man, he really wasn't smart!" Danny grinned, "Who fires a death beam at the king of the dead?"

He received no response, as the heroes were too stunned to speak. Smiling, he saluted the group before tearing open another portal.

"Oh well; villain gone, carry on. Later guys!"

Batman glared at Constantine, but the Brit had already absconded. Heaving a sigh, he resigned himself to this new reality. Darkseid was gone, but there was an incredible new power to worry about.

(Note: My only source of information is DP canon, DP fanon, and the Justice League cartoons from the early '00s. I apologize for any inaccuracies with Batman's or Constantine's behavior.)

[ltwilliammowett]

Old naval slang

A small collection of terms from the 18th - early 20th century that were and probably still are known among sailors.

Admiralty Ham - Royal Navy canned fish Batten your hatch - shut up Beachcomber - a good-for-nothing Cape Horn Fever - feigned illness Cheeseparer - a cheat Claw off - to avoid an embarrassing question or argument Cockbilled - drunk Cumshaw - small craft - Chinese version of scrimshaw Dead Marine - empty liquor bottle Donkey's Breakfast - mattress filled with straw Dunnage - personal equipment of a sailor Flying Fish sailor - sailor stationed in Asian waters Galley yarn - rumour, story Hog yoke- sextant Holy Joe - ship's chaplain Irish hurricane- dead calm Irish pennant - frayed line or piece of clothing Jamaican discipline - unruly behaviour Knock galley west - to knock a person out Leatherneck - a marine Limey - a British sailor Liverpool pennant - a piece of string used to replace a lost button Loaded to the guards - drunk Old Man - captain of the ship One and only - the sailor's best girl On the beach - ashore without a berth Pale Ale - drinking water Quarterdeck voice - the voice of authority Railroad Pants - uniform trousers with braid on the outer leg seam Railway tracks - badge of a first lieutenant Round bottomed chest - sea bag Schooner on the rocks - roast beef and roast potatoes Show a leg - rise and shine Sling it over - pass it to me Slip his cable - die Sundowner - unreasonable tough officer Swallow the anchor - retire Sweat the glass - shake the hour glass to make the time on watch pass quickly - strictly forbidden ! Tops'l buster - strong gale Trim the dish - balance the ship so that it sails on an even keel Turnpike sailor - beggar ashore, a landlubber claiming to be an old sailor in distress Water bewitched - weak tea White rat - sailor who curries favor with the officers

Sailors' Language, by W. Clark Russell, 1883 Soldier and Sailor Words and Phrases. Edward Fraser and John Gibbons, 1925 Sea Slang, by Frank C. Bowen, 1929 Royal Navalese, by Commander John Irving, 1946 Sea Slang of the 20th century, by Wilfried Granville, 1949 The Sailor's Word Book, by Admiral W.H. Smyth, 1967

[luimagines]

👁️👄👁️

Think I’m reading that right that we can do three requests per person and I am really curious to see your take on Prince!Time and Prince!First please :) in a similar vein to the other prince imagines.

(Can you tell that’s my favourite of your work yet? ;))

Goodness- yes. After my own heart. And let's be real, they're kings.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Time

"Hello, my darling." A smooth baritone voice from behind was enough to send shivers down your spine.

You hoped your mask stayed in place. Otherwise the King of Kokiri would be able to see the sudden and obvious blush on your face. The masquerade ball he was hosting was lavish and delightful. Everyone was having a good time.

You cough to clear your throat and smile back in return. "How did you even know it was me?"

"Ah." King Link says your name. "An educated guess."

You bite your tongue, feeling your eyes go green with subtle envy. "So you greet all your guests in that manner?"

"When I'm about to ask someone of another, I fail to see why sweetening the delivery is considered uncouth." He responds easily, smirking slightly as bows towards you.

"...You have a request then, Your Majesty?" You have to keep your from smiling. The jerk is confident, handsome and suave and he knows it.

"Take a walk with me through the gardens." He holds out his hand towards you.

You're stunned. Surely this is beyond what's appropriate between a royal and a commoner. Your hesitance is palpable.

"Please?" He strains his voice slightly. His smile is tight as well.

Swallowing the spit in your mouth, you put your hand in his. "Are you alright, Your Majesty?"

"Quite fine." He says, almost flippantly. But his grip says otherwise.

Concerned, you allow him to guide through the party, out of the castle and into the extravagant garden. He finally stops in a gazebo, sitting down on a bench with a heavy sigh.

You stay standing. "Your Majesty?"

He looks up at you and smiles softly. "Sit with me."

"..."

He tugs at your hands.

"..."

King Link looks back up to you again with a pleading expression. "Please?"

You sit down. Awkwardly, but you sit.

You cough. "...Is this appropriate, King Link?"

"Do we need permission to take a break from the onslaught on the party goers on the inside?" He says tiredly. "....I have a headache."

Your heart sinks a bit. You would have thought that this was his way to relax but instead he seems more stressed than usual. You scoot a little closer to him. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just sit with me." He whispers, letting his head hang back. "I like your company."

You feel your tongue stick to the roof of your tongue and nod. There's very little you can do. He's the king. How are you going to tell him no? Not to mention that he seems to defeated. You've never seen the proud man look so agonized.

His arm slips around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. King Link whispers into your ear. "Have you been enjoying the party?"

Biting your lip, you nod again. "The decor is beautiful."

"Good." He smiles. "I was hoping you would."

"Oh?" The sound leaves you before you can stop it and his self satisfied smile grows wider.

"Yes. Because now we're here, together, and I get to have you on my side." He says with a growing smirk. "It would be better with you on my lap, but beggars cannot be choosers."

".....I beg your pardon?"

"I said what I said."

The King; begging to have you in his lap; what sort of dream world had you walked into?

First

You were trying to mind your own business in the kitchen, getting every set and ready for the main cooks for the lunch rush.

The solders were busy in the courtyard, bantering with each other and asserting dominance over one another for the heck of it. The king was among them somewhere. He was never far from his troops when there was an expedition like this.

The moments before departure were always frantic.

They had planned to go fight off Demise and last of his army. It was rumored that they could be anywhere from Death Mountain to Gerudo Dessert to the Wastelands. The world was already broken into smaller kingdoms as it was, not trusting their king to finish the job once and for all.

"The work isn't treating you too harshly, is it?" The man himself smirks as he enters the small kitchenette.

Your heart flutters just at the sight of him. His official attire was as regal as it was intimidating. This was a man with power and he knew it.

You drop your spoon and barely catch the curse that slips out of your mouth. "A thousand pardons, Your Grace."

"Nervous?" He chuckles, softly leaning his hip against the counter as he crosses his arms.

"This is the chance to change everything and unit the people once and for all." You say, rubbing your palms over your apron. "So much is riding on this."

"We will succeed." King Link leans over to you. A soft smile on his face. "Have a little faith in me. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you, Your Majesty." You blush with his close proximity. "It's the other side I find myself worrying about. They could be anywhere."

"And it's our job to find them and stop them." He says.

He kisses your cheek. "I will return. And we can focus on uniting our broken peoples. I just have to prove the critics wrong once and for all."

"By eliminating one the most evil forces known in the present world?" You whisper, stunned by his blatant affection towards someone of your lowly standard.

"That's the jist of it." King Link smiles and takes your hands in his, stopping them from their endless work. "Wait for me. Will you promise me that?"

You gulp. Without thinking, you squeeze his hands in return.

You don't speak King Link bite his lip in a rare expression of anxiety. "I will make things right. I promise you. Just wait for me."

"I will." You say softly. "I will wait for you."

He smiles and kisses your other cheek for good measure. "I like this color on you. It suits your eyes."

You look down in a futile attempt to hide your blush.

He chuckles and lets you go. "The troops will eat, then we depart."

"Be safe, Your Majesty." You find yourself bowing before him. "May the goddesses protect you."

[ploridafanthers]

^ i'm extremely sorry to ruin your Funny, but actually i'm a pedantic history nerd and i can't let this go.

Franz Ferdinand was the heir presumptive of his uncle, Emperor Franz Joseph. he was killed two years before the emperor died. the assassination caused a succession kerfuffle but he wasn't actively ruling the country at the time

You are granted a time machine and the ability to prevent one birth (or commit a murder up to you), don't worry about the butterfly effect, we want the butterfly effect that's part of the point. Your actions will prevent them from ever rising to prominence. No he's not here, because it'd be too much of a sweep, pick your second choice if you're wondering where he is

[holyadoptionpapersbatman]

Okay, now I'm just imagining an au where Telemachus gains training and self-confidence and cunning a little bit earlier (16 or 17-ish??) and manages to find a loophole that allows him to just kill all the suitors. He manages to convince his mother and his people to become King of Ithaca, but also letting people know that they still believe that Odysseus is still alive.

And so, in classic Anastasia fashion, men come up to Telemachus (despite hearing about his recent feat in killing 108 men single-handedly) declaring that they're his father.

Now, he could just straight up kill them.

But instead, he decides to use his mother's challenges.

The first challenge, as we all know it, is that they need to string his father's bow (that's now extra blessed by Athena so that Odysseus is the only person who manages) and shoot through 12 axes.

Then, if they miraculously manage it because they had their own divine intervention, Telemachus will take them into his "parents' room". The Quotation Marks are there because it isn't actually his parents' room. It's just a really lavish room no one in the royal family is using. But he will tell the man that it surely is. And if the man agrees, Telemachus will kill that man on the spot.

Many fail the first test and are sent away.

One manages to get divine intervention from Apollo, but fails the second test and dies.

And then, suddenly, there's this beggar. Athena is quiet in Telemachus' head, but the young man now 20 years old dares not to believe. This old man who looks worn, tired, starved of love and yet looks at Telemachus as if he has plenty to give him. Telemachus dares not to hope.

He remains stoic in his seat, eyes glaring, anticipating the old man to make a mistake so he could send him on his way. Or if he becomes too rowdy, kill him and forget about all this and brood in disappointment.

But the beggar manages. He strings the bow. He shoots through the axes cleanly.

"What is the second challenge?" the old man asks, voice scratchy but amused.

Telemachus is quiet for a few moments.

Then, he stands from his throne.

"Follow me."

Telemachus' heart is pounding in his chest. Athena still hasn't spoken. But she is here, he feels her presence.

This is the moment of truth.

Telemachus leads Odysseus to a lavish room different from the man who had been assisted by Apollo.

He stands in the middle of it, gesturing randomly.

"Here is your and mother's room," he said, keeping his voice level. He fakes a smile as he adds, "Please wait here as I call for her. She must be in the gardens somewhere."

The man is quiet, eyes shining in the light as he shakily gestures to the bed.

"That is not our bed."

Telemachus refrains from sucking in a breath. "What do you mean?" he asks, prompting, challenging the man to explain.

"I carved the bed your mother and I laid in with my own hands," the man said, voice trembling even more now. "From the olive tree where we first met. I built the palace around that because that bed, our wedding bed, is the symbol of our love."

The man looks at Telemachus desperately. "This cannot be our room. If it is, please, I beg you, tell me what happened to the bed."

Telemachus' voice is almost a whisper when he asks, "How easy would it be to move the bed?"

The man, Odysseus, his father, cries, "The bed is the tree itself!"

Telemachus finally let his tears fall.

"This isn't your room, father," he said, smiling as droplet after droplet fell from his face. "Your room had not changed, and your bed had never been moved. Mother is waiting there as she had always been for the past 20 years."

The man stares at him, and suddenly Telemachus felt self-concious as he wipes his tears away. His father must be angry, or indignant. He wonders if he disappointed his father, and resigns himself that there's nothing Telemachus could do if he has. He has his own style of dealing with things, so if his father couldn't accept it, then he guesses that's that.

"You've grown into such a cunning young man, my son."

Telemachus widens his eyes and looks, actually looks at his father. His father is smiling. It's the same smile his father gave him when he came and declared himself as Odysseus, came and accepted Telemachus' challenge, but this time his perspective isn't smothered with bitterness and longing. This time, Telemachus allowed himself to hope and believe that the man, his father, is looking at him with such adoration and unconditional love.

Telemachus opens his arms, and before he could even say anything, his father brings the two of them together in the tightest and warmest hug he's ever experienced.

[nightlyrequiem]

Hiii, so I have a request, would it be possible to make a story where Valeria is the evil queen in her kingdom but her fiancée is the sweetest person in the kingdom? Also I love your work, keep it up, kisses, kisses ❤️💋

Hiii!

Before I even started writing fanfiction for Valeria, I wanted to write something like a royal/regency AU! I never got around to it because I never knew what to do. This was fun and definitely more challenging then what I usually do thanks :3

Also thank you lots XX

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Royal!AU, Implied Time Period Misogyny (But Not A Lot.), Implied Time Period Homophobia (Barely), Wedding

Blue Blooded

Valeria is as cold and cruel as the unforgiving north. She's led her own army to many different battles over the course of her twenty-year reign. Uncommon for rulers and even less common for women. She caused quite the stir, many believing women were too delicate and weak for war. Valeria's name quickly became known and feared. Reina de la Muerte. She leaves a trail of bodies wherever she goes. The treatment of her servants is poor, and the treatment of her subjects is worse. She rejoices in the fear induces.

One of the duties of a ruler is to produce an heir. Her advisors have been pestering her about finding a husband since she was coronated at seventeen. Something they quickly learned to stop doing. Her patience for men has always been low. Not once has she ever looked at one and felt any sort of connection. Valeria knew it was likely that she never would. Not when she only felt something when looking at another woman. 

You were nothing more than a peasant. With a family who owned a failing farm. Cruelty breeds cruelty. Valeria's subjects have been forced into selfishness to survive. There's very little room for empathy when you're one day of work away from starvation. And yet, there you were. Dancing and laughing with a pack of filthy children. Despite the dullness to your skin and hair, you almost seemed to glow. Like there was a light inside of you strong enough to dispel the darkness Valeria had cast over the land. You were the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. It wasn't a one-time moment. Valeria had never noticed you before but one she did it's like she couldn't ever not see you. Using what little precious coins you have to buy food for the erratic beggar. Offering casual conversation to the local hag. Showing love to the mange-ridden strays prowling the cobble streets.

when Valeria was fourteen, her father had tried to set her up with princes of neighboring kingdoms. A political move to bring peace and potential allyship. Valeria fought tooth and nail. Refusing to even meet with the men. How she hated these traditions. Why should anyone but her decide who she marries? And yet, she found herself darkening your doorstep, nonetheless. Armed guards at her back. Your home was hardly more than a shack. Thatch roof coming loose at the ends and the smell of rot in the wood. The soil on your land was barren. Only cacti and weeds able to grow. A few sickly chickens ran loose around. Your father had answered the door, eyes yellowed from having one too many a drink. Asking for your hand in marriage was met with little resistance. His only trifle being that you were both women. Even that trepidation of course, was only told to her through his body language. Only the most stupidest of people would be willing to challenge the wants of Valeria. 

Though with her reputation and promises of a handsome dowry... it didn't take long to get his agreement. Not that it would have mattered. Valeria would have burned down your little farm down and taken you anyway.

The night sky is clear. A dark, inky, endless void. An infinity of stars stretches across its expanse. It's only a week until your wedding and with every day Valeria spends you, she only becomes more enamored. Valeria gently grasps your left hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. There is no escort to keep watch over you two in the castle gardens. Just another rule and tradition Valeria has stomped on and discarded like nothing.

"You look lovely in the moonlight." She murmurs. you blink and look away nervously. You're as timid as a wood mouse. Something that both endears and irritates Valeria. She wants you to be comfortable. To bare your teeth in an uncontrolled smile, she longs to know what your laugh sounds like. 

"Thank you."

She sighs. Lowering her hand and yours into her lap. Her thumb brushes over the back of your hand.

"Tell me how you feel about the wedding." She says.

"I am looking forward to it." You reply politely. A cool breeze blows through the area, disturbing her dark hair.

"No," Valeria shakes her head. "be honest with me. Tell me how you feel about the wedding." She demands softly.

Valeria watches you hesitate, trying to decipher if this is a trap or not. That you'll suffer harsh consequences for your honesty. Valeria isn't playing mind games with you, nor will she punish you. There is no wrong answer. Just a lovestruck woman desperate to know her fiancée's true feelings.

"I'm... anxious." You admit, not looking at her. Your free hand picks up a stray leaf, moving your thumb over the lines and groves.

"And me? What are your feelings around me?" She asks quietly. Valeria is no fool. She knows you don't really love her yet. That you're wary of her.

"... I'm not sure how I feel about you." You sigh. Letting go of the leaf. It flutters to the ground. You raise your gaze and meet her eyes. "When I came home, and my father told me of my betrothment to you I cried. You are cruel and unjust."

All things true, Valeria knows. She even prides herself on it, but hearing you say it doesn't make her feel as good about it. Your eyes dart across her face, searching for any sign of anger. When you find none, you continue.

"I thought I may faint when you asked to meet for the first time. I was dreading it." You murmur. "But then you weren't like anything I expected."

"I am exactly like how you expected." She counters gently. Giving your hand a small squeeze. "I am mean, and selfish, and bad. Everything said about me is true and I regret nothing. But I promise you this, I will be none of those things to you."

Your eyes seem to dim in disappointment. You had assumed that perhaps she was misunderstood. Valeria hates to disappointment you, but she won't hide what she is. A monster in royal robes.

"Oh." 

"You're as precious as the crown." Valeria whispers. "An angel in the flesh. It's rare to meet someone not turned bitter by their circumstances. My - our - subjects will love you."

"But they don't love you." You reply. Frowning.

"I don't need their love, but they need yours." She sighs. She needs it too. Something that will soften her sharp edges.

Valeria sighs and leans towards you. Resting her forehead on your shoulder. For a second, she's a child again, not yet corrupted by her own cruelty. Like that inherit goodness inside of you is contagious.

Valeria seldom feels nervous, but waiting at the altar in her wedding gown, she can feel her palms growing clammy. Eyes are locked onto Valeria while she waits for her bride to be walked down the aisle. Subjects who silently disagree with how everything is progressing but hold no power to speak out. You and your father round the corner. Your extravagant white dress trailing behind you, an intricate lace veil hiding your face from view. The sight makes her heart swell. Your father walks you up to the altar and hands you off to Valeria. signifying the beginning of your new life.

Valeria takes your hands, catching the barest of glimpses of your face beneath the veil.

"We are gathered here today in the royal unification of these two individuals." The officiant begins. "Repeat these words after me before the lord, 'I promise to love you always, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you until death.'" You and Valeria both repeat his words. Valeria with a little more enthusiasm. You two say your 'I do's'. "Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you... wife and... wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Without hesitation Valeria lifts your veil. Your eyes glint in the light. She grabs ahold of your face with all the gentleness she can muster and brings her lips to yours. Finally tasting you for the first time. Your lips are soft, moulding to hers with ease. The kiss is short lived, but it won't be the last. Valeria pulls away and smiles. Something small and genuine, reserved only for you. To her surprise, your lips twitch up ever so slightly. Returning that sweet smile for a moment. The public crowd rises and gives their reluctant cheers. A few sounding more genuine than the others. Perhaps hoping that your kind nature rubs off on her.

[wheneverfeasible]

🧠🪱Wriggly Wednesday🪱🧠

Thanks for the tag @augustjustice! I was actually just thinking about how I had something for one of these.

So I’ve been reading a lot of historical fic lately, and it really got me wanting to do a royalty au. I don’t have a lot of solid details for it yet, and I don’t know if I’ll ever actually write it as I have a lot on my plate currently, but my basic idea is this:

The kingdom of Hawkins is ruled by a tyrannical king; lazy, prejudiced, and greedy. His queen is beloved by the people for the charity work she does, yet the king never hides the fact that he’s disloyal to her. He doesn’t have to, he’s the king. He doesn’t care if the woman he’s interested in is married or not herself, if he sees her and wants her then he’ll take her and the husband just has to deal with it. It’s almost an honor at this point. (Think very JFK.)

The queen hates it, however, and is just as vicious as her husband, only behind closed doors. She married for the crown, not for love, and her kindness is only a front she puts on for the public. Behind closed doors she is cold and vain and uncaring of the plight of others.

And then they have a son. The prince. He is just as rotten as his father. Lazy, greedy, thinks himself above all others. When he grows bored, he demands a plaything. That’s when the soldiers will sweep the streets and bring him beggars and street urchins and, sometimes, the prince will also demand for a petty criminal to become his plaything instead of being shipped off to slavers or executed. The playthings never seem to last for long, and they’re never seen from again.

One day, Eddie is brought forward as a criminal. It wasn’t actually him, or course, but his father. His father however skipped town and left Eddie to fall in his place. It’s known that Alan Munson was the worst sort of miscreant. A petty thief with a silver tongue that somehow managed to avoid being caught. Until one day he strove for too much and the kingdom was out for his head.

With Al having fled, however, sights turned to his son, Edward. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? Of course not. At least, that’s what everyone says. So Eddie is brought to trial in his father’s stead. Eddie is certain he will be sent off as a slave or worse. Except.

Prince Steven whines that he’s bored, and he doesn’t want to sit through a whole trial. Can’t he just have the criminal as a plaything since his last one broke?

The king grants his son’s request.

Eddie has heard rumors of what sorts of things the prince gets up to with his playthings. According to some, it was a fate worse than death. At least a judgement of death was swift.

Except.

Well, Steve learned how to wear a public mask from the best of the best: his mother. His mask is more extensive, however, because he wears it inside the castle as well. Even his parents believe him to be nothing more than a spoiled, pampered brat. But in truth, it is quite the opposite. And the playthings?

Steve purposely seeks out the destitute, the needy, the ones who one more night out on the street could mean their death, and brings them in. Criminals too, if he knows they’re innocent, or only stole from necessity to survive, or if he believes the punishment far too harsh for their crimes. He takes them in too, as many as he can without his father growing suspicious.

He takes them in, acts for the public like a monster, and only when it’s just him and the “plaything” does he drop the act and let them know the truth. He’s going to get them out. He’s greedy and materialistic to the public because he gives the items away in secret, helping his playthings start a new life elsewhere. He helps them sneak out of the castle and out of the kingdom, if only they promise to leave their old life behind. It is the only way to keep them and those after them safe.

Eddie, of course, believes the worst of the prince, even when Steve’s mask drops alone in his room. He learned long ago not to trust royals. There’s a little bit of enemies-to-friends-to-lovers here then, as Eddie doesn’t trust Steve at first, and also refuses to leave the kingdom without his uncle.

So Eddie and Steve bicker about it, and Steve says fine but Eddie has to play the part of his plaything for the public and his parents, which involves a lot of being caught in compromising positions sometimes to sell it.

Except Eddie starts to grow real feelings when he realizes that Prince Steven really is a good man. Eddie soon has another reason why he doesn’t want to leave the kingdom, even if he believes a prince could never return his feelings.

Plot Possibilities:

- Steve’s last “plaything” was Jonathan. A rare volunteer to be the prince’s plaything in exchange for goods for his poor family. He initially does not trust Steve for a while, but eventually they build a kind of wary friendship.

- Steve was in talks for a betrothal with a noble lady, Nancy. She thought him a cretin as she only knew the mask he wore, while her lady-in-waiting, Barb, would mutter insults about him to her making Nancy have to cover her laughter. Steve heard them and thought they were hilarious, but pretended to be clueless.

- Jonathan sees Nancy and falls in love immediately, making Steve have to figure out a way to get the two of them together without blowing his cover. He eventually succeeds and Steve makes everyone believe Jonathan “broke” and was discarded when on reality he helped smuggle him out with Nancy’s entourage when the betrothal talks fell through and she returned to her land.

- Steve still anonymously takes care of Jonathan’s family like he promised he would, the only way Jonathan would leave with Nancy.

- Robin was originally given to Steve as a tribute, the daughter of an enemy soldier, and Steve keeps her as a plaything for a while (she attacks him the first night before he can explain the truth) and when she “breaks” he shortly thereafter obtains a new servant who looks remarkably like her, named “Rob”.

- During one of the times Steve is manhandling Eddie in public to keep up the act, Eddie gets a very ill-timed boner at the fake threat Steve growls at him, finding out the hard (pun not intended) way that maybe he might like some of the things evil Prince Steven is supposed to be doing to him.

- Eddie seduces Steve realizing the man would never force himself on Eddie. They try out some of things Prince Steven threatened him with and eventually Steve can make his mask’s threats seem far more genuine when Eddie follows him with bruises and a stiff gait afterwards. (Eddie loves every second of it.)

- A minor nobility cannot pay taxes so the king takes his young daughter for his son as payment and to humiliate the noble as a lesson for others. Her name is Chrissy.

- Robin is instantly smitten with Chrissy. The feeling is swiftly mutual once Chrissy realizes “Rob” is a woman.

- something something something

- Steve’s parents die/are murdered/are executed/idk

- Steve is made king and people are wary at first expecting him to be like his father. He can finally drop his mask and it’s revealed that all the good things people thought was his mom was actually him doing it.

- One of the first orders of business he does is grant Rob a title of nobility for loyal service and saving his life (stripping another noble of their title for their disloyalty/treason?).

- Steve tells Rob “he” can have any one wish of his granted. Rob asks for Steve’s concubine Chrissy as his wife (as per previously plotted by the three of them) and Steve grants it.

- Steve frees Eddie from his bondage, expecting Eddie to leave and never look back. He tries not to show how much that hurts.

- Eddie stays. Obviously.

- They go to bed with a bit of role reversal. Steve loves every second of it.

- Steve remains a bachelor king with a questionably close friendship with one of his advisors that the people of the kingdom knowingly smirk about but support because he’s an amazing king who always takes care of his people.

- Steve appoints his heir as this loudmouth whippersnapper with an attitude he takes under his wing for whatever reason. He questions his sanity every day after.

- Years later, King Dustin and Queen Suzie rule the land following in his predecessor’s footsteps; with care, humility, and equal justice for all.

~

(No pressure) Hostage Hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere

Other no pressure tags: @steddiecameraroll @mundaneone @endlessmusings1801 @stervrucht @hotluncheddie @eddiethebrave

[born-to-lose]

Tagging @minty-playhouse @dannyawesome65 @emometalhead @johnentwistlesbassguitar @angelontheatrain @jwowwsboobs

new tag game! what does your volt.fm roast say?

@kaihateszeus @nico-the-overlord @periwinkle-the-11th @ladycalleddella @13callisto

@glacierruler @schrodingersinteraction @kale-of-the-forbidden-cities @violetthunderstorm and anyone who would be interested!

[dresshistorynerd]

Roughly 10 Cool Historical Queer Figures More People Should Know About

Part 1 - From Ancient Era to Early Modern Era

In spirit of Pride Month here's some snippets of queer history I think are interesting.

I've been working on a series of deep dives into interesting historical queer figures, but I haven't had the time to continue my list after the first entry about Julie d'Aubigny. I do want to continue with it, but I came to the realization that I will never have to time to do all the cool and interesting figures in depth, since there's too many, so I decided to do a list with brief descriptions about some of my favorite figures who are not that well known. Some of them are more well-known than others but I think they all deserve more acknowledgement.

I was able to trim down the number of figures to (roughly) 20, which was still too many for one post, so it's two posts now. They are in chronological order, so this part is set mostly before Victorian Era and the second part will be from Victorian Era onward.

This list is centered around western history (but not exclusively) because that's the history I'm most familiar with, though it's definitely not all white, since western history is not all white. I will be avoiding using modern labels, since they are rarely exactly applicable to history, rather I will present whatever we know about these figures' gender, sexuality and relationships. If there's information about what language they used about themselves, I will use that. Often we don't know their own thoughts, so I will need to do some educated guess work, but I will lean towards ambiguity whenever evidence is particularly unclear. If you are the type of person who gets angry with the mere suggestion there's a possibility that a historical gnc person might not have been cis, I encourage you to read my answers to related asks (here and here) first before sending me another identical ask. Try to at least bring some new arguments if you decide to waste my time with your trans erasure.

1. Khnumhotep and Niankhkhnum (latter half of 2400 BCE)

Khnumhotep and Niankhkhnum were ancient Egyptian royal servants, and possibly the first recorded gay couple in history known by name. They shared the title of Overseer of the Manicurists in the Palace of King Nyuserre Ini. They both had a wife and children, but they (along with their families) were buried together in a tomb. The tomb decorations show them similarly as other afterlife couples.

2. Marinos the Monk (c. 5th-8th century)

Marinos the Monk was born as Marina somewhere in eastern parts of Byzantine Empire, likely in the Levant. He was from a wealthy Christian family, possibly Coptic. Assigned female at birth his widowed father planned to marry him off and go to a monastery himself, but he convinced his father to take him with him dressed as a boy named Marinos. His father agreed and they were accepted as monks. After his father died many years later, he continued his life as a male presenting monk. Later he was accused of fathering an illegitimate child with a daughter of an innkeeper, which was not possible, but he didn't revoke the accusations, instead he begged for the abbot's forgiveness for "his sins". Marinos was banished from the monastery and became a beggar. For 10 years he raised his alleged illegitimate child as a father, until he was allowed to return to the monastery and do penance. Only after his death the abbot and the monks discovered his genitals and his inability to father children and were distraught for punishing an innocent man for 10 long years. The real father was discovered and along with the innkeeper and his daughter they all came to honor Marinos' grave and ask his forgiveness. He was canonized as a saint for his sacrificial selflessness, modesty and humility and honored across the Mediterranean from Ethiopia to France.

3. Mubārak and Muẓaffar al-Saqlabi (c. 10th - 11th century)

Mubārak and Muẓaffar were co-rulers of Taifa of Valencia in Muslim Spain. Al-Saqlabi means literally "of the Slavs", which in Al-Andalus was a general term for enslaved northern Europeans, as the two had been enslaved as children. They were in the service of another al-Saqlabi, a chief of police, and they worked they way up as civil servants till a local military coup in 1010, which resulted in them becoming the emirs of Taifa of Valencia. English language sources often describe them as "brothers" and "eunuchs", which gives the "historical gal pals" trope a concerning twist, but contemporary Muslim sources wrote fawningly about their passionate love, trust based on equality and mutual devotion. There was a popular genre of homoerotic poetry in the Islamic world at the time and poems in that genre were written about celebrating Mubārak and Muẓaffar's relationship. In 1018 Mubārak was killed in a riding accident and Muẓaffar shortly after in an uprising.

4. Eleno de Céspedes (1545 – died after 1589)

CW: genital inspection

Eleno was born in Andalusia, Spain, to an enslaved black Muslim woman and to a free Castillian peasant. He was assigned female at birth, given name Elena, and branded as a mulatto born to a slave. She was freed as a child and married to a stonemason at 15-16 years old. When pregnant, her husband left her and died a while later. Later Eleno testified that his intersex condition became externally visible, while he gave birth, and he became a man. He left his son to be raised by a friend and traveled around Spain. After he stabbed a pimp and ended up in jail, he started presenting as a man and openly courting women. Eventually he taught himself to be a surgeon with the help of a surgeon friend.

When he married María del Caño, his maleness was questioned and he was subjected to genital inspection multiple times and it was agreed by doctors that he had definitely male genitals, possibly also female genitals. After a year of marriage the couple was accused of sodomy. Eleno was tried by the Spanish Inquisition and subjected to more genital inspections, during which no penis was found. He claimed that his penis had been amputated after an injury. He defended himself in the trial by arguing that his intersex condition was natural and he had become a man after his pregnancy, so his marriage was legal. He was sentenced only for bigamy, since he had not confirmed that his husband was dead and punished as a male bigamist with 200 lashes and 10 years of public service to care for the poor in a public hospital. His fame attracted a lot of people wanting to be healed by him, which which was very embarrasing for the hospital so he was sent away and eventually exonerated from his charges.

7. Chevaliére d'Éon (1728-1810)

Charles d'Éon de Beaumont was born to a poor French noble family. In their 20s they became a government official and at 28 they joined the secret spy network of the king, Secret du Roi. They became a diplomat first in Russia and later in Britain while they used their position to spy for the king. Rumors circulated in London that they were secretly a woman. While in London they had a falling out with the French ambassador, accused him of attempted murder and published secret diplomatic correspondence. They were instead accused of libel and went into hiding. After the death of Louis XV in 1774 and the abolishment of Secret du Roi, d'Éon negotiated with the French government of the end of their exile in exchange for the rest of the secret documents he possessed. D'Éon took the name Charlotte, claimed she was in fact a cis woman - she had pretended to be man since a child so she could get the inheritance - and demanded the government to recognize her as such. When the king agreed and included funds for women's wardrobe, she agreed and returned to France in 1777. After that she helped rebels in the American War of Indepence - was not allowed to ]go and fight too, ghostwrote her not super reliable memoir, offered to lead a division of female soldiers against the Hasburgs in 1792 - was for some reason denied, attended fencing tournaments till 65 years old and settled down for the rest of her years with a widow, Mrs. Cole. After her death a surgeon reported that she had male primary sex characteristics, but fairly feminine secondary sex characteristics, like round breasts, which might suggest she had hormonal difference/was intersex in some way.

8. Public Universal Friend (1752-1819)

Public Universal Friend, or The Friend or PUF, was born as Jemima Wilkinson to Quaker parents in Rhodes Island, USA. Jemima contracted a disease in 1776, gained intense fever and almost died. The Friend claimed that she did die and God sent the Friend to occupy her body. The Friend didn't identify as man or a woman, and when asked about the Friend's gender, the Friend said "I am that I am". The Friend didn't want any gendered pronouns or gendered language to be used about the Friend. The Friend's pronouns, according to the writings of the Friend's followers, were "the Friend", "PUF" and possibly he. First recorded neo-pronouns perhaps? The Friend also dressed in androgynous/masculine manner.

The Friend started a bit cultish religious society disavowed by mainstream Quakers, The Society of Universal Friends, which I can only describe as chaotic good. The Friend first predicted a Day of Judgement would come in 1780 and when 1780 came and went, the Friend decided it was New England's Dark Day in 1780 and they had survived survived the Judgement Day so all was good then. The Friend preached for gender equality, free will, universal salvation (Jesus saved everyone and no one will go to hell) and abolition of slavery. The Friend persuaded any followers to free their slaves, which is probably the most chaotic good thing a potential cult leader can do with their influence over their followers, and several freed black people followed the Friend too. The Friend advocated for celibacy and was unfavorable towards marriage, but didn't think celibacy or rejection of marriage were necessary for everyone else, so it feels more like a personal preference. Many young unmarried women followed the Friend and some of them formed Faithful Sisterhood and took leadership positions among the Society.

The Society of Universal Friends tried to form a town for themselves around mid-1780s, till in 1799 the Friend was accused of blasphemy. The Friend successfully escaped the law two times. First the Friend, a skilled rider (what's a gender neutral version of horse girl?), escaped with a horse, then after an officer and an assistant tried to arrest the Friend at home, women of the house drove the men away. Third time 30 men surrounded the Friend's home at night, but a doctor convinced them that the Friend was in too poor health to move but would agree to appear at court. The Friend was cleared for all charges and even allowed to preach at the court.

9. Mary Jones (early 1800s–1853)

Mary Jones' origin is unknown, but she was an adult in 1836 in New York, USA. She was a free Black person, who preferred to present as a woman. She was sex worker by trade and used a prosthetic vagina. As a side hustle she would steel her customer's wallets, and usually they wouldn't tell anyone because it was 1830s and inter-racial sex and prostitution were illegal and everyone was repressed. Smart. Get your coin, girl. However after one of her more shameless customers discovered his wallet with 99 dollars inside had been replaced with a different man's empty wallet and contacted the police, she was arrested. The police discovered she had male genitals and when they searched her room they found several more stolen wallets. She appeared in court in her female presentation and when asked about her dress, she said that prostitutes she had worked with encouraged her to dress in women's clothing and said she looked better in them. They were right and she had since presented as a woman in her evening profession and among other Black people. She was convicted for grand larceny and sentenced to 5 years in prison. Later she continued to present as a woman and practice sex work, for which she was arrested for two more times.

10. George Sand (1804-1876)

George Sand was pen name of Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil, a French Romantic writer. Amantine was high-born with a countess as a grandmother. George wrote about themself with alternating masculine and feminine language, using feminine language when talking about his childhood, but masculine language often other times. Their friends also used both masculine and feminine terms about them. Victor Hugo for example said about them: "George Sand cannot determine whether she is male or female. I entertain a high regard for all my colleagues, but it is not my place to decide whether she is my sister or my brother." George preferred men's clothing in public, which was illegal for those seen as women without a permit, but they didn't ask for permissions. They alternated between masculine and feminine presentations. They were outspoken feminist, critic of the institution of marriage, committed republican and supporter of worker's rights. They were married at age 18, had two children and left their husband in 1831, but legally separated from him in 1835. They had many affairs with men and some with women, at least with actress Marie Dorval. Their most notable relationship was with Frédéric Chopin, but they fell out before Chopin's death.

[late-draft]

On first glance, this is a funny scene about Iroh making funny faces and dancing. But it was exactly this that left an impact on me because of how hard the humour contrasts with the reality of the situation.

It stayed with me just how much this event probably disturbed Zuko: it wasn't just the stress from being in danger. He was probably appalled that Iroh would lower himself so much, that he would ever allow this; going from the position of once being the crown prince to now, submissively performing for a sneering aggressor on a filthy street in enemy territory, allowing himself to be in danger and not fighting back. (quote unquote)

Zuko certainly felt immense shame, insult and shock. Even second-hand, observing his uncle. Iroh implicitly involved him in this social ladder descent as well with his behaviour. I imagine it would continue to bother Zuko for quite some time, like a heavy bundle of stress he wouldn't know how to get rid of.

(Look at these frames. The framing and pacing tells you everything. The camera moves closer and lingers on him, he doesn't have to say anything.)

Of course, Zuko doesn't understand Iroh's position in this. It's so different from what Zuko has been through that it's normal and logical he wouldn't understand. Iroh has long since let go of pride and arrogance and of looking down on other peoples. He understands the gravity of their situation and he doesn't have arrogance preventing him from doing what he believes is necessary to help him and his nephew survive. Even if it means being a beggar and, I would assume, even taking a beating. In a way, this was also a bit of ad hoc demonstration from him to Zuko on how it's possible to not be overburdened by royal pride. It wasn't specifically a lesson on it, but the event had traces of it.

On a meta level, this scene deals with violence against the homeless. It just shows it existing and doesn't comment on it. It's also a very strong scene that continues the demonstration of both Iroh's and Zuko's characterization.

It then leads with Zuko using force to steal, contrasted to Iroh begging and being thankful for what they receive. He's very forgiving - he doesn't chastise Zuko for theft too much. It wasn't the "defeat" at Ba Sing Se that humbled Iroh (Iroh was never defeated, he withdrew). It was losing Lu Ten and thus learning the actual value of human life, the illusion of separation and kindness. But hand-in-hand with this is that Iroh also always was and stays a very resilient and steadfast person, where he doesn't give in (for the most part) to people who are truly evil and selfish. It's why the "I looked away" stays as one of the things he will always regret. He didn't bend to the bully on the street because he was weak by this point or lost his sense of orientation in the social ladder. No; he sang and performed for a gold coin with full understanding.

[princesssarisa]

Next on the list of Snow White tales in the book Sleeping Beauties: Sleeping Beauty and Snow White Tales From Around the World are the versions from France and Italy.

*The first of the three French tales is The Lay of Eliduc, composed by a medieval woman poet, Marie of France. It's not really a Snow White story, but it does feature a beautiful princess in a deathlike trance. A knight, Eliduc, is unjustly banished by his king, and forced to travel to another kingdom, where he helps the local king to win a war. During this time, he falls in love with the king's daughter, Guillardun, and she with him... but unfortunately, he already has a good, faithful wife, Guildeluec, back in his homeland, and is torn between his new love and old love. When Guillardun learns that Eliduc is already married, she falls into a swoon from which nothing can revive her. Distraught, Eliduc lays her to rest in a chapel in the woods, which he frequently visits from then on, even after he goes back to his wife. Guildeluec sets out to learn the cause of her husband's mysterious sadness, and discovers the chapel and Guillardun lying inside it. Then, in a detail that evokes the Grimms' tale of The Three Snake Leaves, she sees a weasel use a certain flower to bring its dead mate back to life – she uses the flower to bring Guillardun back to life too. After the whole story is revealed, Guildeluec graciously leaves her husband and becomes a nun, allowing Eliduc and Guillardun to marry.

**Besides the tale itself, the book includes an essay which highlights the parallels between this story and the Celtic Snow White tale of Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree, which will be overviewed later. The author suggests that Marie of France may have heard a variant of Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree and drawn inspiration from it.

*The book also includes two other French Snow White tales: The Mirror and The Stepmother.

**The Mirror is nearly identical to the Grimms' Snow White (a wicked queen stepmother, a magic mirror, a poisoned apple, etc.) with two chief exceptions. (1) Instead of seven dwarfs in a cottage, the heroine, Blanche, comes to live with seven giants in a castle. (2) The details of the ending. Some time after Blanche's "death," a royal wedding is held in another kingdom, and the seven giants are invited. Rather than leave Blanche's glass coffin unprotected, they carry it with them, but on their way they accidentally drop and shatter it, jarring the piece of apple from Blanche's mouth and reviving her. She then goes with the giants to the wedding, where, as it happens, her father and stepmother are guests too. Blanche reunites with her father and accepts the marriage proposal of a prince who also attends, while the queen is forced to dance to death in hot iron shoes.

**In The Stepmother, the heroine isn't a princess, but an innkeeper's daughter, and her jealous stepmother convinces her weak-willed father to abandon her, a la Hansel and Gretel. She meets a band of thieves who take her in. But sometime later, she shows kindness to an old beggar woman, who is really a wicked witch, and who offers to comb her hair, only to stick a magic pin into her head that freezes her in place like a statue. (Strangely, there's no mention of any connection between this witch and the stepmother.) The heartbroken thieves keep the "statue" on display in their house, until one day a prince discovers her, falls in love, and takes her back to his castle, where he secretly keeps her in his room. But one day the prince's sister discovers the "statue," tries to comb its beautiful hair, and takes out the pin, bringing the heroine back to life. The prince and the heroine are joyfully wed and have twins. But soon the prince is forced to go to war; while he's away, the wicked stepmother forges a letter from him and sends it to the castle, demanding that his wife and children be banished. But in the woods with her children, the heroine prays, and miraculously a house springs up for the three of them to live in, until in the end the prince finds them.

*I've also read another French variant, La petite Toute-Belle, which isn't included in this book. In that tale, the heroine is pushed down a well (evoking Mother Holle) by her wicked mother's servant, lands in the home of three friendly dragons, is later poisoned with a dress, then set afloat on the sea in her coffin, and washes up near the castle of a young king, whose mother takes off the dress and revives her. Why Heiner left it out of her collection I don't know.

Next come a long list of variations from Italy.

*The first is The Young Slave from Giambattista Basile's Il Pentamerone, which is often labeled a Snow White story, though it's really more of a cross between Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, and The Goose Girl. A group of young maidens, including a baron's sister, have a contest to see who can jump over a rosebush without damaging the single rose on it. The baron's sister knocks off just one rose petal, but she secretly swallows it so no one will know. As a result, she gives birth to a baby girl, whom she names Lisa, and whose birth she keeps a secret from everyone except the fairies because there's no father. As in Sleeping Beauty, the fairies each give Lisa a blessing, but one fairy twists her ankle while running to the cradle, and in her pain she curses Lisa to die at age seven when her mother accidentally leaves a comb stuck in her hair. Sure enough, seven years later, it happens. Rather than bury Lisa, the distraught mother places her in the innermost of seven crystal chests, which she hides in a secret room in her brother's castle. She then falls ill with grief and dies, on her deathbed warning her brother never to look inside that room. Some time later, the baron marries, and warns his wife never to look in the secret room either. But of course, out of curiosity, she does, and she finds the dead Lisa grown into a beautiful maiden. In a jealous rage she grabs Lisa's hair, and in doing so she dislodges the comb and revives her. Then she dresses her in rags, forces her to work as a slave, and constantly abuses her. But eventually, the baron goes on a journey and asks all the castle servants for gift requests, including Lisa, whom he doesn't know is his niece. Lisa asks for a doll, and when she gets it, she tells her troubles to it every day. Finally, the baron overhears her and learns her true identity. The cruel wife is sent away, and the baron becomes Lisa's guardian and eventually finds a good husband for her.

*As for the other Italian versions, there are too many to summarize each one, so I'll just overview the details:

**The heroine is typically a commoner, not a princess. As in The Stepmother from France, her wicked mother or stepmother is sometimes an innkeeper, who learns of the heroine's survival from travelers to the inn who saw her.

**Only a few of these versions have the villainess be the heroine's own mother. The majority seem to feature a stepmother, and several follow the pattern seen in some Cinderella stories from the same region, where she starts out as the heroine's seemingly-kind teacher, whom the girl persuades her father to marry. In a few versions, however, the heroine is persecuted by two older sisters.

**Some versions include a magic mirror, while others have the heroine's survival and whereabouts reported by a bird, an animal, or a beggar whom she was kind to.

**Two versions introduce the prince at the very beginning, and have him visit the three sisters and be smitten by the youngest while slighting the older two. This takes the place of the mirror proclaiming her the fairest in the land.

**There typically isn't a huntsman figure. The villainess usually just abandons the heroine in the wilds, or has a maidservant do it, or else convinces the girl's father to do it, Hansel and Gretel-style.

**The counterparts of the seven dwarfs vary widely. Sometimes they're fairies, sometimes a band of thieves, in one version an ogre and his wife, and in another just a kindly old man. In two versions, it's a dead lady trapped on earth in her castle as a form of purgatory, whom the heroine cares for until her sins are expiated and she rises to heaven; unfortunately, her ascent happens just before the last attempt on the heroine's life, so she's not there to warn her about the poison the way she was before. In yet another Italian version I've read that isn't included here, Giricoccola, the heroine's helper is the moon, who lifts her out of the attic where her jealous sisters have imprisoned her and carries her away to her heavenly castle.

***In the versions with the thieves, the heroine typically hides in their house for the first few days, eating, drinking, and cleaning the house while they're away, much to their confusion when they come home. But soon they discover her and welcome her into their family.

**The villainous mother, stepmother, or sisters typically don't practice witchcraft themselves in these versions, but consult a witch, who creates the poisoned items for them.

**The poisoned item that finally "kills" the heroine is almost always an article of clothing: e.g. a dress, a hat, a hairpin, or a pair of slippers. In some versions she simply falls down dead or in an enchanted sleep, while in other versions she becomes motionless like a statue, or actually turns to stone. But either way, the prince typically finds her, falls in love, and takes her home to his castle, where he lets no one else inside the room where he keeps her. But then one day a woman – his mother, his sister, or a servant – sneaks in, discovers the girl, and tries to make her look more presentable, removing the poisoned item in doing so. Her revival becomes a joyful surprise for the prince when he comes home.

***Only one version, The Beautiful Anna, has the heroine poisoned by a grape, which the prince later dislodges from her throat by stroking her beautiful neck while admiring her.

***Several versions use poisoned food (usually cake or sweets) for the first one or two murder attempts. But either the heroine is warned not to eat it, or else an animal eats it first and dies. It's an interesting contrast to the familiar Grimms' version, where the queen's first two attempts to kill Snow White with articles of clothing fail because they're easily removed, so she turns to the more seemingly foolproof method of poisoned food for the third try.

**In the versions where the heroine "dies" rather than becoming a statue, she's either placed in a glass, crystal, or jeweled coffin by her companions, or else she just lies where she fell in the castle where she now lives alone, to be found later by the prince when he ventures inside, a la Sleeping Beauty.

*The villainess is sometimes executed by the prince in the end, but in other versions she goes unpunished.

**Two versions, The Beautiful Anna and Maruzzedda, continue after the heroine revives with second halves that recall certain Sleeping Beauty tales. The prince marries the heroine and fathers two or three children with her, but he keeps his marriage and children a secret from his cruel, possessive mother. Eventually, the mother finds out and tries to have the heroine and children killed, but in the end her schemes are thwarted and she's put to death instead.

Coming up next: versions from Greece, Albania, and Turkey.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @adarkrainbow, @themousefromfantasyland

[dangermousie]

The most epic thing ever!

Good luck, teacher lady!

And he leaves and she's made to stand there with rocks tied to her arms (which btw, while annoying, is so much milder than anything during training.)

And then he comes back. With a small army of servants carrying a chair, fans, umbrellas etc. Every time he goes all grand lord, I swoon so hard.

Yup, he plops himself in a fancy chair in front of her!

And then beckons umbrella holders to shade her:

And fan servants to fan her.

And then he takes care of the rocks:

That teacher is no match for his powerful, shameless self.

The vibes? Since I have been quoting classics lately, it's very much like Alfred Lord Tennyson's The Beggar Maid:

Her arms across her breast she laid;

She was more fair than words can say;

Barefooted came the beggar maid

Before the king Cophetua.

In robe and crown the king stept down,

To meet and greet her on her way;

“It is no wonder,” said the lords,

“She is more beautiful than day.”

And shines the moon in clouded skies,

She in poor attire was seen:

One praised her ankles, one her eyes,

One her dark hair and lovesome mien.

So, sweet a face, such angel grace,

In all that land had never been:

Cophetua sware a royal oath:

“That beggar maid shall be my queen!”

Or, as one of my favorite painters, Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones, envisioned it:

[bookshelf-in-progress]

The Beggar's Door: A Retelling of "King Thrushbeard"

Oh, yes, King Gregor had a temper, but in this case, it was more than justified. You see, the king had gone through all the expense of hosting an enormous ball so every eligible suitor on the continent could vie for the hand of Princess Dulcibella, and what do you think she did? Not smile and curtsey and thank them for the honor, that’s for sure. She rejected every man to his face! And not politely! The princess had a tongue like a whip, and she scourged those high and mighty men with every insult you can imagine before declaring she would have none of them as a husband. Some of them were on the verge of declaring war.

So none of us were surprised when King Gregor, in a towering rage, summoned Princess Dulcibella to the throne room the next morning.

Princess Dulcibella was a beautiful maid—fair and willowy—and she walked toward her father with as dainty a step and as innocent an air as any woman who ever lived, humming a traveling minstrel’s tune.

“Daughter,” the king declared. ��I have brought you here to meet your husband.”

The princess stopped humming. “Tradition states that a crown princess may choose her own husband.”

“Tradition also states that if the princess refuses all her suitors, she is wed to the first man to come into the king’s presence.”

Princess Dulcibella’s lovely face paled. “You would not be so barbaric.”

“You have left me no other choice.” The king pointed to the grand doors through which the princess had entered—the only entrance that had been left unbarred. “Your husband—the man of my choosing—will enter through that door at the stroke of ten.”

Everyone knew who that would be—Baldric of Eldria, a brute and bore (and, some said, a usurper), but king of the wealthiest nation on the continent.

At his words, a door opened—but not the great door.

In a shadowed corner of the throne room, a forgotten, barely visible door swung open on rusted hinges.

The king whirled upon his chamberlain. “I said all the doors were to be barred!”

The chamberlain was deathly pale. “Tradition states that the beggar’s door can never be barred.”

An old tradition, the beggar’s door, one that said the poor must be able to approach their king for help in desperate need, or else the kingdom would fall. No one had used the door in generations—but the door had remained open.

Through that door came a ragged young man, tattered shoes on his feet and a lute on his back. With a smile, he bowed to the princess, as graceful as any courtier.

“My king and my lady,” he said. “If you can spare a coin for a starving minstrel, I would be glad to repay your kindness with a song.”

He had charm, that ragged clown, and probably a nice face somewhere under the layer of dirt.

Princess Dulcibella smiled upon him—men had crossed continents for that smile—and, in the sight of a stunned crowd in the throne room, the minstrel began to sing.

O, come away, my fine young maiden Though I’ve no place to call my own We’ll wander through the wooded valleys And make the wild world our home

You know the song, but you’ve never heard it as he sang it. He had a voice like love itself come to life—as if he’d come a-purpose for wooing. We all were spellbound. The princess was enchanted.

He sang a verse or ten, and when the song finally faded, the king was the first to remember the purpose of the day. For all the unexpected happenings, he hadn’t forgotten his rage. He’d lost his chance at an alliance, but his revenge upon an ungrateful daughter was still within reach.

“Minstrel,” he declared. “You’ve won more than a coin. According to tradition, you have my daughter as bride to wed.”

The priest emerged from behind the throne—intended for a far more royal wedding. In the sight of us all, the princess and the beggar were bound as man and wife.

“Now, be gone from my house!” the king declared. “You’re a beggar’s wife, now, and can have no place here.”

Dulcibella was stripped of her finery, but somehow she didn’t seem to mind.

The minstrel took her in his arms and carried her out the beggar’s door—gazing upon each other with as much devotion as if they were any ordinary pair of lovers.

With that, they disappeared. I’ve not seen either of them again.

But I’ve heard stories.

Dulcibella was clever, you see, and her maids tell stories of a minstrel who would sing near her window on moonlit nights.

Some say she told him of the beggar’s door.

Some even say that the minstrel was no minstrel at all, but young King Alaric, cast down from the throne of Eldria, living in exile until he can reclaim his throne.

I don’t know what to believe, but I like to believe she’s happy as a beggar’s wife, and I believe there’s no better woman to someday take a place as queen.

King Baldric had better take care.