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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

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Blue Blood and Rain [1]

King John X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info •ko-fi•

Summary: You meet a stranger in the stables.

Series Masterlist

A/N: I have totally made up servant/nobel dynamics because I wanted to and also let's forget about the plot of the film, yes?

Warnings: kissing, reader is in their early 20s, overuse of italics, typos, power dynamics because he's the king, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2820

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It wasn’t that going to the royal castle was boring, as much as it was exhausting. And very, very boring, now that you thought about it.

You were the personal attendant to The Dowager Countess of Bowhale, who was visiting the court for the spring festival with her son, The Earl of Bowhale, a man who was only seven months your senior. They were both on average kind, well-meaning people, even if they were set in their own ways, who paid well and certainly granted you with a degree of personal freedom that you knew many servants didn’t even dream of.

Hugo, the Earl, was his mother’s, Edith, only surviving child. A fact that obviously made The Countess fiercely protective, however in the last few years that shielding behaviour had metamorphosed into a safeguarding of a different kind: the continuation of the family name.

Barely a day passed without her bringing up the need for her son to either marry (a complicated matter) or take a mistress.

Which was why she had been hell bent on attending the spring festival to peruse a suitable noble from the court, believing that ‘seeing a young woman face to face is the only way to tell if she would be a good mother to her son’s children.’

You helped The Countess into her dress for the evening, making sure you nodded and said, “yes, my lady”, at all the correct moments as she spoke.

“I think there will be some chance of seeing a suitable suitor tonight, if not tomorrow. I know most of the court is present, but many outer nobles are not arriving until the morning.”

“Yes, my lady.” You adjusted her skirts.

“Hugo needs to seriously consider his future, the legacy of his father’s name.” She sighed. “I spoke to him again this morning.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“He is as insolent as ever. His father was never like this. I do not know where he gets it from.”

You smile, “Perhaps his lordship takes his strong-willed nature from his mother, my lady?”

She looks down at your grinning face and laughs at your tease. “You are terrible my dear,” but she beams and puffs out her chest, enjoying the praise. “And far too kind on him, there’s no way his will could match my own.”

You laugh, and are about to speak when the door to The Countess's rooms open and Hugo barges in.

“Mother, I- Oh,” he gives you a little smile and half bow as a greeting. You nod back.

“So I see she is deserving of a formal greeting and not I?” The Countess scows, but you know from experience that if someone had entered without acknowledging you they would have also faced reprimand.

Hugo pulls a face. “Mother-”

“And what about knocking Hugo? Since we are in his highness’s house, on his highness’s hospitality I do not think that forgoing manners should be our way forward.”

He sighs, but nods, before waiting for a moment to see if she will continue talking.

The Countess nods.

You stand up, watching them going back and forth in their regular verbal sparing matches.

“Mother, is it completely necessary for me to join-”

“You surely are not speaking of the possibility of not attending tonight? Are you?”

“Mother-”

“Because if you were, I would be-”

“It wouldn’t be anything, an Earl can retire to his-”

“An Earl would not insult the hospitality of his King.”

“Mother-”

She held up her hands. “I will hear nothing of it.”

Hugo sighed dramatically, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“And what are you wearing? You are covered in mud.” She tutted.

“I was riding and-”

“Riding? At this hour?”

He nodded. “Some of the knights and other Earls went to the forest and-”

The Countess tutted dramatically.

“I was going to take Stefen to the stable and brush him down instead of attending.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You intended to brush your horse instead of attending? There are servants for that exact duty Hugo.”

He shrugged frowning, you knew how much he enjoyed taking care of his horse. “I do not trust the staff here, they do not know Stefen, they-”

The Countess shook her head, “you are attending. Go, get bathed and dress, Robert will assist you.”

“But Mother, Stefen-”

The Countess turned to you quickly, “Will you do me the favour of going to the stables and getting Stefen ready for the night?” She smiled kindly at you and you nodded.

“Of course my lady.”

“See?” She turned to her son. “Now we have a trusted member of staff to care for him.” She said triumphantly. “Or do you not trust her to look after him here?”

Hugo gave you an apologetic look, he hadn’t meant to lump you with the task. But you smile back, and he returns a weak nod.

“Of course that’s fine,” he said defeated.

You often groomed Stefen, he was a powerful and grumpy animal that tended to only obey four people, Hugo, the two main stable hands at Bowhale, and you. He tolerated others for the most part, but was quite difficult when something set him off.

“Good.” The Countess clapped her hands together.

You finished helping The Countess get ready before you stepped out of her rooms and headed for the stables. The evening light was just starting to dim into twilight.

Hugo caught up with you on the stairs, gently touching your arm to get your attention.

“I’m so sorry.”

You smile kindly, “what for, my lord?”

“Making you settle Stefen in, I,” he sighed, “I could have easily done it earlier, I just wanted an excuse to… not go…”

Your smile widened. “I know, Hugo, please don’t worry, besides, I like taking care of Stefen.”

He gives you a grin, his spirit lifting as they always did when you used his first name. “Thank you, I-”

“Hugo!” The far-off call of The Countess echoed around the castle and you chuckled while he groaned.

“Have fun!” You waved as you continued down the stairs.

He nodded disheartenedly.

You got a little lost on your way to the stables and had to ask a stern looking guard the way. When you arrived and introduced yourself to the head stable hand the poor man looked relieved.

Stefan greeted you happily, and had no qualms about letting you brush and clean the mud and grime from his coat. Much to the other stable hands's shock.

It wasn’t long before the sky was dark and you were left alone in the stables with the horses.

“You need to be nicer to others Stefan.” You scowled with a grin.

He whinnied, seeming to laugh playfully at you as you stroked his neck.

“That’s a beautiful horse.”

The low voice behind you made you jump and you spun around quickly. Stefan sensed your discomfort, snorting and stepping forward to try to put himself between you and the stranger.

“It’s alright,” you hushed, patting his side and calming him. You turned to where the voice had come from, the stranger’s outline was just visible in the low candlelight. “Thank you, it is The Earl of Bowhale’s horse.”

“A fine beast for sure.” The stranger nodded, but did not step closer. “I have heard he has a temper.”

You smile and nod. “He is a little set in his ways, strong-willed,” you stroke Stefan affectionately, “but he is a loyal companion if you earn his trust.”

“And it seems that you have.”

You smile again at the stranger. “I would like to think so, The Earl and I used to train him when he was a colt. He is used to me.”

“You ride?”

“A little,” you turn back to Stefan briefly as he nudges your shoulder and stroke him again, “occasionally I accompany The Earl or Countess when they wish.”

“Hmm.”

“And what of you stranger? Do you ride, or are you just of this disposition to watch horses while they rest and harass servants with questions?” You tease playfully.

He chuckles lightly and waits a beat before he steps closer and leans against the wood of Stefan’s stall. The flame light flickers against his features and dread grips your inside in its icy hold.

You freeze for a second, eyes wide before you bow your head and curtsy as low as you can. “Your Highness, I apologise, I did not realise it was you in the dark.”

Your mind rushes with thoughts, you were going to get punished, put in the stocks, maybe even imprisoned, why wasn’t he at the event? Why was he here seemingly stalking about in the dark?

He wasn’t wearing his crown, his clothing obviously expensive but not the attire for entertaining the court.

King John laughed again, but the sound wasn’t unkind. “You were all for questioning me a second ago, am I so fierce that you can’t even raise your head to look at me?”

You keep your position, looking down, panicking on what to do, how to-

“Hmm?” He hooks his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “Has the servant lost her voice?”

You shake your head. “No, Your Highness.”

“Then answer my question.” His voice is low, nearly a growl. The pretence of softness hiding something much sharper underneath.

“You are fierce, Your Highness.” You whisper and he grins.

“And yet, you look at me?” He keeps his touch on your chin light.

“You are making me, Your Highness.” The words slip from your tongue before you truly have a chance to understand them and you screw your face up the second they are spoken.

But he laughs quietly and drops his hand to his side. “There, I wonder what you will do under your own will.”

You pause and swallow, taking a deep breath before opening your eyes and looking back up at him.

His grin widens. He observes you for a moment, the look in his eyes dark, predatory. And for a second you are sure that you made the wrong choice.

“Stand,” he says, his voice still soft and you obey slowly, “much better, I do not need you to stay in a curtsy, my pride is not so vast that I need to have everyone at my feet.”

You stay quiet, biting at your lip and pulling at the skin around your nails, but watch him carefully.

“You are Edith Bowhale’s personal attendant, are you not?”

“I am.” You nod, not wanting to fall short and lose whatever small grace has decided to put you in the King’s favour and not chagrin.

He hums a response, looking away from you for a second and you can feel relief flood your veins as you are out of his sharp glare. The consolation is short lived however, as he quickly stares back at you.

“She was speaking to me about many things, though I have to admit upon seeing you I wished I had been paying more attention.” He smiles, his voice like silk as he takes a step closer.

You pause for a second, your mind slow to catch up with the meaning of his words. “I, wait, I’m sorry, Your Highness, I-”

He chuckles and brushes his fingers against your cheek, a light touch that makes you jump and startle back.

“So skittish,” he teases, “over just a touch.”

“I-”

“A touch from your King no less,” he tuts, “I should be insulted.”

“No, that’s not, not my intention, I-”

Stefan whinnies, seemingly unhappy with how close the King is getting to you and King John uses your brief distraction to his advantage. He grabs hold of your bicep and pulls you out of the stall and swings the wooden door closed.

You can hear Stefan neighing in distress as he pushes you up against the door, his griping your arm tight.

“Calm the horse.” He says softly, his piercing eyes seeming to sink into your very soul.

You swallow, your mouth dry, but tap the door. “Stefan,” you say softly.

The horse calms slightly at your voice.

“It’s alright, don’t worry,” you repeat your words a few times until you hear him start to settle and wish they could have the same effect on you. Your heart races, your breath catching in your throat.

He delights for a moment in your obvious discomfort. “My, my, I have never seen a servant to a Countess so shy.”

You stay quiet, heat rising to your skin. You try to focus on his mouth, but no matter how hard you try you are drawn back to his striking eyes, as if he holds some bewitching magic to keep you under his control.

Slowly he raises his left hand up, giving you plenty of time to see it before he gently touches his fingertips to your cheek, lightly stroking your skin. You still jump a little, naturally trying to flinch away.

It makes him smile even more, taking a deep pleasure in your flustered reaction. He breathed in deeply, as if he were savouring a flower, “aw, what’s wrong? Does the little servant not know how to address her King? How to behave in his presence?”

“I… I’m sorry, Your Highness.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

He grins wickedly at how timid you have seemingly become. “Now, now,” he teases, his voice thick and heavy, “there’s no need to apologise with those words… how about you tell me something sweet instead?”

You frown in confusion, “something sweet?”

He leans a little closer, caging you in. “Something nice.” He languidly runs his fingers down lower, along your jaw and to your neck. Your racing heartbeat drums against his fingers and a giddy thrill runs down his spine.

“I…”

“Something nice,” he repeats, “something that you could never normally say to someone like me, something that will make me smile.”

Once again your words slip out of your mouth as if you had no control over them, his hypnotic gaze seemingly completely destroying your survival instinct, “you’re beautiful,” you whisper.

He freezes the moment you utter the words, your eyes going wide as you realise what you said. The syllables of your sentence seemingly echo around the stable, ringing and repeating clearly in your mind as if you had screamed them from the rooftops.

A faint dusting of pink highlights his cheeks, but thankfully you cannot see it in the candlelight, he smiles slowly, moving his hand up and tracing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Repeat that.” He breaths.

Your heart beats so forcefully you’re sure you're going to faint. “You’re so very beautiful.”

He chuckles, leaning closer until his nose bumps against yours and preening a little at the compliment. “You know such words from such an unexpected source only mean more… thank you.”

He dissolves the last centimetres separating you and presses his lips to yours, swallowing down your little gasp of surprise and licking into your mouth without hesitation. His hand is warm on your neck, his body pressing up against yours as if he expects you to push him away, to run. Instead, your fingers sink into his shirt, pulling him closer as you kiss him back with equal further, a lamb happily going to the slaughter.

He growls, low in the chest when you reciprocate, heat blooming in his lower stomach as he pushes even closer and rubs his quickly hardening cock against your hip.

You gasp a little in surprise, but quickly regain yourself, wrapping your arm around his neck and urging him closer, needing to feel every part of him.

This couldn’t be real, this was impossible, you had to be dreaming. Maybe Stefan had reared up as you brushed him and you’d stumbled and hit your head, it was seemingly the only logical conclusion. You might as well enjoy this delusion as long as it lasted.

His kisses grow more demanding, more urgent and he nips at your bottom lip, groaning at your high-pitched sigh. And then whining himself when you repeat the action on him, forcing your tongue into his mouth and pulling sweet sounds from his lips.

There was-

The stable door slams open, “Your Highness, I have come to-”

King John turns furiously, “What?” He yells at the poor servant sent to fetch him.

It’s like a dam has been broken, your mind snaps back to your senses. What were you doing? What the hell were you doing? Kissing The King in a barely lit stable.

The servant stammers a little, saying something that you can’t for the life of you hear. He is silhouetted in the darkness, unseeable and the King steps closer, giving him a verbal dressing down.

You slip out the side door, and rush back to your room. Thankful for the clouded night sky that keeps your face in shadow and identity hidden from possible prying eyes.

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Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho

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boredzillenial · 7 months

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Day 3: of @flightlessangelwings fawktober!

King John upholds his scandalous reputation and takes what he wants.

Themes: DEAD DOVE - DNE, degradation through Exhibitionism, hurt no comfort, Dub-con/non-con, power imbalance, mentions of blushing, f!reader servant, pinv, creampie, oral f!receiving, cuckholding if you squint

A.N: I do not condone any of this - this is a safe place to explore kink and erotica as writers and readers, not beta read, cranked out in a couple hours when struck by inspiration, exhibitionism is not my usual thing so lemme know what y’all think!

Word count: 1267

You knew as you headed into the castle the reputation of your new master. That his beauty was the only thing to rival his cruelty.

You had hoped that keeping your head down, keeping quiet, and keeping out of the way would save you from his wicked nature. Your hopes were dashed on your first meeting.

He lay sprawled in bed, a concubine beside him and his cock laying limply across his stomach.

He sat up to watch you as you moved about the room, his length springing to life as he watched your figure move silently about the chamber.

You managed to get about halfway through your morning tasks before he slipped out of bed and came up behind you, rutting against the curve of your ass as you bent over. Your panic sent you reeling forward away from him as a wicked grin spread across his face.

“You’re a quiet one…” he observed, stepping closer. You shimmied out of the way and ran out of his chambers, catching your breath in the hall.

The next day you found his chambers empty, sighing with relief for a moment as you go about your chores. As you emptied a basin of water out of the window you felt him come up behind you again, pinning you against the stone windowsill.

You felt him lean forward, his breath fanning across the back of your neck as he murmured, “quiet girl, I’m gonna make you scream.”

He threw your skirts up around your waist and rutted against you, your body betraying you and soaking against the pressure of him sliding into you. He moved slowly at first, drawing out his movements to pull anything out of your throat more than a soft whimper.

He huffed and began to move faster after a few moments of failing to make you so much as groan. The sound of him slapping against you echoing in the stone chamber as you got your hand up to your mouth to stifle your cries.

“No!” He huffed as he yanked your arms behind you, using them as added leverage as he slammed harder. “Nothing still?” He growled and you grit your teeth together and swallowed as much noise as you could.

“I love a challenge.” He growled and kicked your feet apart. Adjusting his grip he held both your hands in one and with the other he snaked around finding your clit and circling roughly. You couldn’t fight your body’s urge to arch back as you cried out, the sound echoing in the street below. “That’s it!” He he laughed cruelly as he continued to pound into you, sending you reeling and your knees nearly buckling as he ripped your orgasm from you and planted his own deep in your channel.

By the time he was finished you clung to the windowsill and managed to keep your shaky legs under you. You glanced out of the window as you adjusted your skirts, seeing a couple of weary guards looking around for the source of the cries they’d just heard. Shame peppered your face pink as you ducked out of his chambers and continued about your day, his hot spend and your slick slowly trickling down your thighs.

You made yourself scarce the rest of the day, breathing a sigh of relief as you saw him ride out with most of his knights the following morning.

In the weeks he was gone, you grew close to a young knight he had left behind, well mannered, strong but soft spoken, and he had even made his intentions known to start courting you. You thought your luck had changed until one chilly morning you heard the distant thrum of hoofbeats. The King had returned…

You nervously helped carry food to the long ornate breakfast table. Praying that keeping with the cooks and his long travels would have him too tired to try anything.

You flinched and backed away as the doors to the hall slammed open. The King threw his helmet down as he stamped inside, grime and sweat from the road caked his armor as anger etched the contours of his face. “Out! All of you!” He shouted.

You courtesied and moved to leave with the other maidservants till you felt his grip on your wrist. “Not you.” He growled, pointing at the seat beside him.

You felt as if your heart was going to leap out of your throat as you sat beside him. He began tearing into the food laid before him. Taking a bite then throwing whatever he was holding aside. “No. No. No!” He threw his plate aside, “What the hell has happened to the cooks since I’ve been away.” He grumbled, his lips tilted in a wicked grin as he looked over to you. “Now, there’s a meal...”

You gulped as you tucked your legs tighter against one another. In one swift motion he hoisted you out if your chair onto the table. Pulling your legs apart and shoving your chest hard enough to press your back into the wood. He yanked you roughly toward him and locked his arms around your legs as he dove his face under your skirts. Nibbling and licking like a man starved, up your thighs to your center.

He licked and sunk his tongue deep into your cunt, drawing out the slickness and relishing in it. His low rumble and moans of pleasure vibrated through you and sent your mind into a haze. He truly was eating you for his own pleasure but you couldn’t help reaching the edge after many a night with only your own touch that left you unsatisfied.

“Your grace.” You heard someone’s voice clear as you looked to see some of his knights standing awkwardly in the doorway. Shame rushed through you like wildfire as you lay locked in the king’s grip.

He pulled his head out from under your skirts, eyes half lidded with lust and face soaked from your wetness. He drew a hand over his mouth and wiped some of your slickness on the ornate cloth lining the table. “Can’t you see I’m eating?” His tone a warning to the men awkwardly watching your horrified expression unfold.

You locked eyes with the knight you had been courting, cheeks blazing as you saw his hand reach for the pommel of his sword.

“And what, pray tell, do you think you’re doing.” John spat at the young knight. “Best you leave before I make you stay and watch me take what’s mine. And leave the door open on your way out!” He dove back under your skirts, this time biting up your supple thighs. Drawing yelps and cries from you to make his point known.

The young knight released his sword and stormed out along with the others. Leaving you sprawled across the table at John’s mercy. Weary eyes peaked in through the open doorway as the king had his fill of his choice of breakfast. Shuffling away quickly but their expressions would be plastered in your minds eye for weeks to come.

You had never come so hard or so many times as that morning, and John reinvigorated his cruel reputation as your overstimulation turned you into a twitching babbling mess sprawled across the table. Never stopping despite your pleas till he was fully satisfied. Once he was done he stood slowly, smiling down at the mess he’d made of you and glancing at the open door. “Be sure I start every morning like this.” He cooed as he leaned over you and wiped his face on your skirts.

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Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @lunar-ghoulie @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#fawktober2023 #oscar isaac characters #Robin Hood king John #totally had his name as John the whole time #king john

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baublecoded · 5 months

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FILTH TEACHES FILTH.

#henry ii #geoffrey of brittany #richard i #king john #henry the young king #henry iii #vibes

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pulpsandcomics2 · 2 months

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Robin Hood

#robin hood #maid marian #king john #sheriff of nottingham #walt disney #animation art

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flawless-v1ctory · 9 months

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Oscar Isaac in Robin Hood (2010) dir. Ridley Scott

#oscar isaac #king john #robin hood #gifs #moviegifs

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melodygatesauthor · 6 months

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When your next drawing requires you to look at all these fucking rings and you just can’t get the drawing done cause you are thinking about how you want each one to get lost in your body somehow.

No? Just me?

#king john #robin hood prince john #prince john robin hood #prince john #king John Robin hood #Oscar Isaac prince John

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uwmspeccoll · 6 months

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Shakespeare Weekend

We are halfway through Nicholas Rowe’s (1674-1718) The Work of Mr. William Shakespear; in Six Volumes! Published in London in 1709 by Jacob Tonson (1655–1736), this second edition holds an important place within Shakespearean publication history. The Work of Mr. William Shakespear; in Six Volumes is recognized as the first octavo edition, the first illustrated edition, the first critically edited edition, and the first to present a biography of the poet.

This week, we explore the third volume of The Work of Mr. William Shakespear; in Six Volumes. The third volume encompasses historic plays including a Shakespearean Henriad depicting the rise of English kings. The volume is comprised of King John, King Richard II, Henry IV Part I, Henry IV Part II, King Henry V, King Henry VI Part I, and King Henry VI Part II. While the plays have recurring characters and settings, there is no evidence that they were written with the intention of being considered as a group. A full-page engraving, designed by the French Baroque artist and book illustrator François Boitard (1670-1715) and engraved by English engraver Elisha Kirkall (c.1682–1742), precedes each play.

In addition to Rowe’s editorial decisions to divide the plays into scenes and include notes on the entrances and exits of the players, he also normalised the spelling of names and included a dramatis personae preceding each play. The only chronicled critique of Rowe’s momentous editorial endeavor is his choice in basing his text on the corrupt Fourth Folio.

View more volumes of The Works of Mr. William Shakespear; in Six Volumes here.

View more Shakespeare Weekend posts.

-Jenna, Special Collections Graduate Intern

#shakespeare weekend #nicholas rowe #the works of mr. william shakespear #king john #king richard II #Henry IV #King Henry V #King Henry VI #jacob tonson #henriad #François Boitard #Elisha Kirkall #engravings

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unicornofthemidwest · 4 months

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Shakespeare’s King John has literally everything going for it. A main guy who sucks so bad. A hot bastard who’s debatably the hero of the show. A furious mother with some banger monologues. Child death. Some old guy. Eleanor of Aquitaine. Truly one of the most stories ever told.

#shakespeare #King John #phillip faulconbridge/Richard #Constance my beloved #Shes obviously not just a mother she’s also a usurper/righteous warrior but yk what I mean #“I am not mad” I love you #arthur also my beloved #Literally baby #Hubert #hes there #eleanor of aquitaine #Shakespeare king john

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my-secret-shame · 21 days

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#king john #king john edit #robin hood #robin hood edit #robin hood 2010 #prince john #prince john edit #oscar isaac #oscar isaac edit #q #has this been done before? i don't know if i have new thoughts anymore of it they are just recycled #my stupid edit #(affectionate)

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illustratus · 7 months

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King John granting the Magna Carta at Runnymede, on the bank of the River Thames near Windsor, England, 15 June 1215

by Ernest Normand

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doctorfriend79 · 19 days

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King John

#Horrible Histories #Death In Paradise #Primeval #Professor T #Ben Miller #King John #DI Richard Poole #Richard Poole #James Lester #Professor Jasper Tempest #Jasper tempest

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 month

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Blue Blood and Rain [2]

King John X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info •ko-fi•

Summary: The King invites Hugo for a ride. And for some reason, you too.

Series Masterlist

A/N: I have still totally made up servant/nobel dynamics because I wanted to and also let's forget about the plot of the film, yes?

Warnings: overuse of italics, typos, power dynamics because he's the king, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2522

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“Need any help there?” The Earl of Delton’s voice ran up your spine like a clammy hand. The implications were clear.

You shouldn’t be here.

And you couldn’t agree more.

“No thank you, my lord.” You said as curtly as you could get away with as you mounted the horse in one quick smooth motion.

Hugo beamed, missing Delton’s jibe because of course he did. “She’s a better rider than me, Johannes.” He said happily, addressing Delton.

Delton raised an eyebrow, keeping his gaze solidly on you for a moment before he turned to Hugo and began discussing their lands.

You breathed in deeply, trying to calm yourself and shrug off your nerves. But you kept thinking back to the night before. To you encounter in the stables.

Part of you had thought it was a dream, believing that there was no other way to explain it. But then, after breakfast, a servant had come to Hugo to tell him that the King had requested he join him for a ride and small hunt.

Which had been fine.

Until the servant almost mentioned you had been requested too.

Hugo had practically preened. “Invited by the King!”

“This is an exceptional opportunity to increase our standing with him,” Edith had been equally giddy while you helped her son get ready. Your stomach twisted itself in knots.

Would the King call you out as a harlot the second he laid eyes on you? Would you be thrown from the castle without a single coin to your name?

“He must have been impressed by my praising of you yesterday.” Edith smiled warmly at you.

You swallow. “Me, my lady?”

“Of course!” She laughed, “I told him all about your prowess with a bow.”

“As did I!” Hugo grinned. “He surely must want a demonstration.”

You nodded uneasily.

“Now, now,” Eidth patted your shoulder affectionately, “do not worry, do not dwell on it. Nothing you can do would cause embarrassment to our name.”

“Hmm.” You nod and try your best to smile.

When you’d arrived with Hugo at the stables, you had helped him mount Stefan and assumed you would be accompanying the group of noblemen on foot.

The head stablehand had surprised you though, recognising you from the day before when he saw you with Stefan.

“You’re Earl of Bowhale’s servant, yes?”

You nodded.

He had smiled kindly, “his Highness requested this horse be made ready for you.”

“For me?”

Your utter look of dismay made him smile again, pityingly. “For you.”

The horse was a chestnut stallion, a hand smaller than Stefan. You had stroked him a little, trying to get a judge of his temperament.

Stefan had whinnied, obviously not liking that your attention was on someone else.

You give Stefan a sympathetic smile. “What’s his name?”

“Alaric.” The head stablehand nods.

“Alaric.” You repeat.

“One of the King’s own.”

That doesn’t sit well in your stomach.

You wait a little nervously outside with the others.

“That’s a fine horse you have there, my lady.” The young man smiled at you as he encouraged his own horse to take a few steps closer to you. You recognised his family crest as Whitehaven.

Your mind short circuited a moment, trying to explain that this wasn’t your horse and that you were not a member of a noble house at the same time. Your mouth hung open, panic gripping your chest as you started to speak.

And that was when a nearby servant announced the King.

You jumped, forgetting yourself for a moment, until everyone else bowing around you reminded you to do the same. You kept your eyes trained on the floor.

“Now, now, there’s little need for that.” You can hear the amusement in his voice as he addresses the group. “My ego isn’t that big.”

There’s a light chuckle amongst the nobels, and you relax ever so slightly.

As you look back up though, his eyes are trained on you.

He smiles and you look away quickly.

Heat rises to your skin as you feel his eye roam over you for a long moment before he clears his throat and gently pulls on the reigns of his horse. “Let’s head out.”

There are twenty one of you in total. The King, seven nobelmen, and thirteen servants.

You fall to Hugo’s side a step behind, mirroring what other servants seem to be doing for their corresponding lords.

The King leads. He talks candidly to the other lords, ignoring you completely and you start to relax.

The group follows the trail into the forest, all being far too loud to actually hope to catch anything. But you’ve gathered that this is much more of a ‘let’s have a chat’ hunt, than ‘we need to find dinner’ one.

The servant of Lord Shepten rolls his eyes when his master drones on about the lack of rainfall the past two months, and you both share a smile.

Despite the Lord’s bemoaning the stream running parallel to the trail is moving strong. It widens, quickly being joined by other streams and becomes a small river. The water level isn’t particularly deep, easy for a horse to move through without getting their rider’s feet wet, but the bank is sunken down and steep. A bit of a sudden drop, and not something that you, or a horse, could easily climb out of.

As the time stretches on you fall further back as Hugo moves closer to the King. It’s nice to see him so exctied, passionately talking to the King about his lands.

You’ve been riding for nearly forty minutes, the Earl of Delton being the only person to fire a shot. A waste of an arrow at some bird he couldn’t even see properly, when you come to a makeshift bridge across the river.

The King stops.

The bridge itself looks… uncooperative. Rickety. And narrow. Barely wide enough for one horse at a time. But you can see the care that has been taken in making it. How the wooden logs have been tied and stacked.

“We’ll cross here.” The King says.

A few of the Earl’s exchange looks.

“Here, Your Highness?” Delton questions, a touch of nervousness in his voice.

King John smiles at him, but the expression is anything but kind. “Is that a question?”

“No sire, I…” Delton swallows and his manservant speaks for him.

“My lord was simply checking that he heard you correctly, your Highness.”

King John nods to the servant. A much politer action than his words to the Earl.

“Should we dismount?” The Earl of Cotington asks.

“No need.” The King clicks his tongue and flicks his reigns, his horse moves surely, smartly walking over the bridge with no trouble at all. When he has reached the other side you notice the King clicks the fingers of his left hand and your horse moves forward without your command.

“Hey,” you pull on the reigns.

“Pay no mind,” the King calls from the other side. “Alaric doesn’t like to be outdone.”

You glare at him as your horse moves across the bridge, before you remember yourself. You catch the King’s grin of amusement at your expression as you look away.

“Seems your servant can’t control such a beast.” Delton says to Hugo, loudly.

You bite your lip and barely manage to resist turning your head and telling him that his mother is a whore.

You miss the scowl that crosses the King’s face at Delton’s comment.

Just as you suspected, the bridge is firm and steady, and Alaric moves with intention.

But nerves swim in your stomach, pull at your lungs. There was no way that Alaric moved simply because he wanted to. King John had signalled him with that click.

The second all four hooves are on firm ground the King’s horse moves back a step. There’s a small crunch, then crash as the bridge collapses into the river.

There is an exclamation from the other side, the Earls all shouting over the top of each other in a rather dramatic display.

The King however stays calm, a small smile on his lips when you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

“It’s fine!” He calls out to the others, silencing them immediately. “We will cross further up and travel back to the castle and meet you there.”

There are some faint grumbles and exclamations of dismay before King John guides his horse towards the path, grinning wildly once his back on turned to the Earls. “Come on, servant.” He hisses.

You swallow nervously and follow him further into the forest.

It’s only a few paces until the path widens and he falls back so that he is riding next to you.

You stare straight ahead, every muscle in your body tensed. In your peripheral vision, you can see him looking at you with a bemused smile.

He lets the silence hang for a moment, seemingly savouring your discomfort.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks politely enough, though there's an undercurrent to his tone that riles you up.

You frown as you look at him and he chuckles.

“You certainly did run off quickly last night.”

You look away from him quickly, hear rising to your face.

“I should be insulted.” He continues to tease, but panic still grips your chest.

“I did not mean to cause you insult, I…” you blurt out and then pause when you see his expression and scowl at him. “You’re mocking me.”

“Only a little.”

Your frown deepens and he laughs. The sound is not unkind.

“You made the bridge collapse, didn’t you?” You ask.

For a moment you think he’s going to deny it, but he nods, still grinning. “I did.”

“How?”

“It was set up to.”

“Yes but how-”

“Let a king have his secrets.” He smiles sweetly and it’s infuriating.

You seethe for a moment, breathing deeply. “You also have Alaric well trained.”

He raises an eyebrow at you.

“To come to you whenever you gesture.”

Genuine amusement blooms on his face. “I am pleased that you didn’t miss that.” It sounds oddly like praise coming from his tongue.

“All this just to talk to me?”

He shrugs but nods.

“You could have just ordered me to see you.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” He moves a little closer to you. “Besides wasn’t this more theatrical?”

You can’t help but smile slightly. “I did not know you had a love for the dramatic, your Highness.”

“One must have their vices.” He says quietly.

You both ride in silence for a moment.

“What is your horse's name?” You nod your head towards the white mare.

“Guinevere.”

She pulls at the reigns slightly when she hears her name.

“I didn’t take you as a lover of Arthurian legend, your Highness?” You inject a slight tease into your voice hesitantly.

But you needn't have worried, his eyes light up happily. “It seems there’s a lot of misguided views you hold about me? I am to be feared. I have no love of stories.” He tuts in jest. “Someone must be spreading false rumours about me around the kingdom.”

He looks at you again and your stomach twists. It’s such a gentle gaze. Something you feel almost undeserving of.

You shake your head and look down at your reigns.

There is another stretch of silence, but this one is more comfortable.

After a while, you come to a clearing and the King reaches out, lightly touching the back of your hand. He points to the far side where deer are grazing.

For a moment you think he means for you to draw your bow, but he just looks at them happily. “They often graze here.”

“You hunt them here?”

He shakes his head. “Not in the meadow. I like there to be spaces that the deer feel as ‘safe’, it encourages them to stay in the forest and not move too far on.”

You nod.

“We could stop here for a moment, rest?” The question in his voice gives you pause. It seems strange for a noble to ask your opinion like this, let alone the King.

“Are you tired, your Highness?” You tease and he chuckles as he dismounts.

To your surprise he moves to your left side, his hand outstretched to help you down. You swallow, a little giddy as you touch his fingers, allowing him to help you get down.

His other hand lightly touches your hip as your feet touch the grass.

“Should we hook their reigns to a tree?” You ask, gesturing your head towards the horses.

“No need,” he keeps a hold of your hand. “They will not wander.”

Both Guinevere and Alaric have started to nibble at the vegetation underfoot.

King John guides you to a tree. It is old, with a thick heavy bark and a wide canopy.

“I used to sit under this tree as a child and read.” He smiles at the memory for a moment before he looks back to you, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “When I was trying to hide from my Princely duties.”

“I did not take you as someone who would shy away from your responsibilities, your Highness?” Your voice comes out surprisingly sure of itself despite the nerves squeezing your throat.

His grin widens. “Well, it looks like that someone who spreads false stories about me is at least whispering one positive one into your ear.” He reaches out, using his free hand to softly touch your cheek.

You swallow nervously, the action making a loud clicking sound. He seems to take great amusement at your obvious distress and leans a fraction closer.

“Why did you run off so quickly last night?” He raises his eyebrows at you playfully. “I didn’t even get a goodbye kiss.”

“I’d argue that you did.” You whisper, your voice timid. But he laughs kindly.

“I suppose you could be correct.” He drops his hand from your face, but extends his arm.

You take it, a little hesitantly.

You walk around the meadow, the King stopping and pointing out different plants and trees as you go, giving you snippets of facts and tales he’d read or been told, before you make your way back to the horses.

He offers to help you mount, and you accept without a second thought.

Your nerves had all but disappeared by the time you near the castle. His company has turned oddly pleasant as he continues to talk. But what is the most puzzling thing is how he stops, asks you your thoughts and listens intently to your answers.

Just before you both enter the castle grounds he stops you, and places a pendant in your hand without a chain. It’s heavy, bearing the seal of the King.

You frown, but don’t get a chance to ask any questions.

“Come to my rooms tonight, after dinner. Show that to the guards, they’ll let you in.”

“Your H-”

“I’ll take ‘no’, as a personal slight.” He grins wickedly, giving you a quick wink before he turns Guinevere and trots into the grounds.

_____________________________

Thank you so much for reading!

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