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bakerstreet2016-02-26 10:48 pm
houseofpleasure) wrote in bakerstreet2016-02-26 10:48 pm
Swear Myself to You
The Swear Myself to You Meme
It's been like this your entire life. Or perhaps it just seems that way, since it's been this way so long. Or it could hasn't been that long, and you remember what things were like before - worthless, fruitless, purposeless. Now, though, all is different. You've sworn your life to someone...or had your life sworn to them by someone else, back when you were young or powerless enough to not control your life. It doesn't matter if this swearing is an expected part of your society or an oddity in a modern age, here you are, and you know what you're here for. This isn't servitude, not in a fashion, as there's theoretically an honor here in your absolute loyalty. You are essentially on your "sworn duty's" level, you've just, well, chosen to dedicate your life to them. So if you're their best or brainwashed into being their right hand, all of it comes from a place of admiration!
Hopefully!
Theoretically.
Your position, of course, means you're a tool to be used, and every job needs a different tool. What's your job? Were you raised from an infant be be a constant companion for the one you're sworn to, who you grew up with? Instead, you could be a bodyguard or a first line of defense. In some cultures, there's an expectation that people be good in bed for future spouses; you could be there to train the one you're sworn to in the art of lovemaking. Of course, how well you're able to do your job depends on how your relationship is with your most important person. Are they kind? Cruel? What if they don't want you? It will be incredibly awkward if neither of you want to be in this position.
One certainty is this, however: romance and sexuality, unless heavily controlled, is forbidden. After all, how can you effectively dedicate yourself to them if some part of you wants them to dedicate themself to you?
How to Play
- Comment with your character, your preferences, and what side of the equation you'd prefer to play - the being sworn to or the one doing said swearing. There are also three settings available: old fashion, modern, and future. You may want to specify which one of those you'd like, if you have a strong opinion.
- Reply to others.
- Use the RNG to determine your scenario.
Setting
- Old Fashion: In the days of yore, be it ancient, medieval, or pseudo-Victorian - or altogether fantastical.
- Modern: The here and now, where swearing to someone is pretty rare.
- Future: Years from now, who knows what strange alien cultures and technologies we'll have to abide by?
Prompts
- From Birth: You two were raised together, as one of you was given as a baby. There's no one who knows the other better than you.
- BFFs: You are intended to be their lifetime companion...platonically, of course.
- Repayment: You owe your life to them in one way or another. Devotion is the least you can do.
- Out of Love: The reason you swore yourself to them is because you love them and this is the best way to be close to them, even if you have to sacrifice other things.
- Unwilling Charge: Can you swear yourself to someone who doesn't want you?
- Spoils of War: Being here and swearing allegiance isn't your idea, but when you or your people are defeated in battle, there's not much else you can do.
- Ward: Perhaps you weren't there as an infant, but you did grow up in the family from a young age. They may be like a sibling to you. Would you be able to view them in any other way?
- Marriage: ...a marriage is sort of a swearing, isn't it?
- Mind Control: You need to be more pliable and loyal to be any good, servant.
- Familiar: You were created through magic just for them.
- Guard: Focus. You have to protect them, and you can't if you're distracted.
- Eunuch: You're supposed to be completely chaste and celibate, or at least that's what they and those around them think.
- To Teach: Your charge is going to be married, and you have to teach them how to please a future spouse.
- Jealousy: You know you're not supposed to be
- More than One: Someone else has sworn themselves to your charge...you were here first!
- More than This: You want to be more to them than just a glorified servant.
- Unwilling Charge: They don't want you, but you have to serve them.
- Redemption: This is your way to make up for the sins of your past.
- ...what?: How to you get someone sworn to you again?
- Utter Devotion: There isn't anything you wouldn't do for them. Anything.
- Forbidden: Being with them sexually is a punishable offense for you, but neither of you care.
- Equals: In society, you two are on different levels. In private, you see more eye to eye.
- Not Too Serious: The more crack-y option. They saved you...but it was from something like stubbing your toe. Obviously, you owe yourself to them. Or something.
- FREESTYLE
Dick Grayson | Batman | OTA
Mayuzumi Chihiro | Kuroko no Basket m/m
Roronoa Zoro | One Piece | ota
Zevran Arainai | Dragon Age | Ota
Laurent of Vere ; Captive Prince ; OTA ; M/M for shipping
no subject
Long story short, Gregor is an emperor in a sci fi setting, except his planet is a medieval era-ish feudal war lords sort of place. Canonly, the entire population is sworn to him. His family history is complicated, bloody, and depressing. He himself is quiet, extremely sharp, kind-hearted, ruthlessly practical, and secretly a huge romantic. I think they'd definitely have an interesting dynamic. Gregor is also fairly easy to AU into a fantasy medieval era setting (removing sci fi elements does not alter his home planet terribly).
Gosh, sorry for the tl;dr-- and if you're actually canon familiar I'm doubly sorry-- let me know if you'd be interested in something! ]
no subject
I'm not canon familiar, so generic fantasy medieval would be good. Laurent's definitely not quick to swear himself to anything, but if he was captured in war or if there was an arranged marriage (he was initially the second son, so in an AU where his brother lives, it would be expected that Laurent would be married off for political alliance), he'd do what was necessary. If either of those sound good, we can go with that. Or if you have some entirely different idea that might work well for them!]
no subject
I had a couple ideas! Capturing in war is definitely possible for Barrayar (they are ridiculously militaristic). Arranged marriage wise, Gregor is canonly against it, but in the past I've done something where he will outwardly indulge an engagement and collude with his betrothed to resolve whatever political situation arose to cause it so they can get out of it before the actual marriage. Alternatively, Gregor when he's younger daydreams constantly about running away and being a peasant, so it's very possible to have a situation similar to what I saw in the summary for Captive Prince where no one realizes who he is and he gets picked up.
I'd be happy with any of these, to be honest! ]
no subject
no subject
... And once again please excuse how long this got, I thought establishing setting was important! ]
Gregor Vorbarra, Emperor of the Barrayaran Imperium and Count Vorbarra in his own right, swore to himself that this would not be brought to resolution. He would have one tiny part of his life reserved for himself, damn it, and his spouse would not be determined by politics as had every other aspect of his existence from birth. He can only hope that his intended will feel the same way-- can assume he must, since there is no possible way for Gregor to leave Vorbarr Sultana, the capital, and go to live anywhere else, and so his spouse would have to live here and leave his entire country behind. Surely he doesn't want that... He'll leverage whatever point he must to gain his cooperation in ferreting out and dismantling whatever is behind this.
War had seemed imminent, and diverting it with marriage was a tried and true diplomatic solution and one that answered, too, all the constant pressures foisted on him to have an heir and secure the succession. As the only Vorbarra left, past Gregor himself inheritance of the throne becomes incredibly muddled-- he has a whole array of fifth and sixth cousins, no one closer, and not a one of them is eager to rule in his place. They'd be happiest of all if he finally gave in and had a litter of children. But Gregor has no intention of doing that any time soon, not just to satisfy their anxieties about a position he must live with every day.
This engagement is one more in a long line of sacrifices. Yet he is resolved that it will stop there and not go further into marriage. He feels truly as if he will drown behind his role if that one last avenue of personal freedom is closed to him: the freedom to refuse all suitors, all romantic entanglements, until he finds someone he actually loves.
Which is how he finds himself seated in a private receiving room, the walls papered with yellow damask silk, the chairs pintucked white velvet, himself a tall, lean, cerebral form in a black suit with tiny silver embroidery. Vorbarra colors, with no marks of rank. None necessary, really, with his personal Armsman escorting Laurent in, Gregor's expression a smooth mask of composure, smooth enough, in fact, to not seem much like a mask at all. His eyes are dark and focused, and he dismisses the Armsman with a quiet word of thanks and a flick of his fingers-- but not to go far, merely to stand back in the corner, observing as a patient statue ready to leap forward if necessary. As much a trained bodyguard as he is a batman.
"Please sit," he says, equally quiet speaking to Laurent as to his sworn man. "I wanted a chance to speak with you privately before the public ordeal begins. It seems beyond credible that all this has been orchestrated without a single word between us personally." Public ordeal being an accurate summation of Gregor's take on life as Emperor.
no subject
Laurent had taken great care to learn everything he could about Gregor Vorbarra before leaving his kingdom, and what he had learned had pleased him. He knew that the Emperor was considered highly intelligent, fair, and practical, and that--as far as any of Laurent's sources knew--he had never taken any interest in romance or sex, despite the generous selection of beauties available to him.
That suited Laurent. A marriage of convenience suited him better than being bought outright by a powerful Emperor who wanted to paw at him for his beauty.
He knew, likewise, the information about himself which would likely be available to interested queries. He was the younger brother of the charismatic Prince Auguste. The Crown Prince was known to excel at nearly every physical or intellectual activity he tried, and he was loved as the golden prince of Vere. Laurent fell quietly into his shadow. It was known he was bookish. Some reports said that he was sweet and diplomatic. Other reports said that he was frigid, with a barbed, scolding tongue.
All of the reports would agree that he was exceptionally beautiful.
Escorted by an honor guard of the Emperor's own men, Laurent stepped into the room and paused to take it in. His tunic was high-collared and severe, the expensive dark blue material only slightly relieved by the exquisite gold embroidery along the shoulders. Extensive laces, also in gold, wove up either arm and down his back, and it was evident at a glance that his Veretian clothing would take extensive time to lace and unlace, and would likely require the aid of a servant.
The severity of his wardrobe didn't suit his beauty. He wore his full lips in a tight line, and the sharp lines of his tunic enhanced the sharp lines of his face, making him seem utterly untouchable.
But his lips did curve in a slight smile as he saw the Emperor and realized how similar of an image they made, each of them in stern, dark clothing, slender with sharply angled faces, and bearing all the authority of their position. Laurent appreciated the Emperor's choices of austere luxury, and came to sit where indicated.
"I hope you will accept Vere's apologies for that," Laurent said. His posture was elegant and proud, with a tendency toward laziness, one leg stretched out in front of him as he leaned on the armrest. "I implored my father to send me in the diplomatic party to arrange the union. I am his youngest, you see, and he is protective." Laurent smiled, a wry, fond smile that indicated his affection for his father while sharing a joke about overprotective fathers. It was executed with diplomatic precision, projecting the image of a charming and dutiful young prince while offering no real indication of the man beneath the diplomat. "I am honored to at last be able to meet your Imperial Majesty in person."
no subject
It's not an unfair evaluation of Gregor, to be told that he's smart, fair, and sexless. It's much the reputation he has among his closer social circles. For his part, he's vastly relieved that what he'd learned of Laurent at a distance had made it clear he wasn't merely decorative-- he's had his fill of delicate Vor beauties lobbed at him, each one hoping they'd be the one that'd stick and become Empress or Prince-Consort. Gregor is not a decorative sort; he's all to business even now, to the point that he doesn't protest the use of his formal title. He's not someone who confuses convenience and obligation with familiarity. Not by far. Laurent is not the only one who habitually hides his true self beneath a shifting veneer, of whatever he needs it to be for the situation at hand.
He does, however, admit to some slight distraction at Laurent's clothes. Barrayar is exceedingly, almost frightfully military: Vor consider themselves a military caste rather than true nobility. As a consequence, men's clothes all run toward uniforms, even suits that aren't uniforms. Anything more ends up coming across as foppish or effete. Laurent does not look foppish. He looks... slightly unreal, statuesque in his beauty, something you observe but do not interact with. It's slightly distracting. Fortunately, Gregor is not easily distracted.
"It's a mutual honor, but mostly I'm relieved," he says wryly, allowing a glimmer of humanity through in response to this casual body language. "It's the way of politics for the parties most concerned to be the last consulted." As for the injoke... Gregor's been an orphan, and consequently Emperor, since he was five, with no siblings or immediate relatives to take over if he died. To say he's used to overprotectiveness would be drastically understating the cage he'd often seen his life as, until recently. Barrayar as a whole is undoubtedly seen as barbaric; sending someone valuable with no guarantee of protection into its depths probably comes across as unwise to anyone else, a fact Gregor is trying to change. Historically it's been a snake pit of violent political infighting on those occasions it wasn't turning that viciousness externally to conquer. Gregor's reign has been the first conspicuously peaceful one in centuries.
"I can't blame your esteemed father. I'd like to assure you that for the duration of our engagement, however, you've no need to worry for your physical safety. My Armsmen and Imperial Security do not take their duties lightly."
One generation ago, getting the Emperor's betrothed killed would probably have resulted in suicide to clear their honor. Gregor's not positive it wouldn't happen today.
no subject
Whatever the honor of being offered the protection of the emperor's guard, Laurent considered them a superfluous nicety. If there was a significant attempt on his life, Laurent trusted to his own competence at persuasion and self-defense rather than the skill of any potential guards. Despite everything he'd heard about the barbarity of Barrayar and the dangers of the court, Laurent considered the whole thing a pleasant reprieve from the thorns of the Veretian court. He was already delighted about one new and luxurious protection that Barrayar offered him:
No one would dare try to seduce the emperor's betrothed.
At most, a circumspect noble might hope for a place as the Prince Consort's illicit lover, and those attempts would be vastly easier to brush off than the grasping, lustful propositions Laurent had spent half his life enduring. He understood that the Barrayar court was somewhat less permissive of extramarital affairs than the Veretian court--which considered sexual affairs and the keeping of human 'pets' to be standard, as long as those affairs and pets were always same-sex and held no risk of illegitimate offspring.
The betrothal to the emperor had made him exponentially more untouchable. Laurent was thrilled.
He likewise appreciated the emperor's diplomatic skill. It offered all the required formality with just a hint of complicity. Seven sentences in and not a single comment about Laurent's beauty, which usually garnered comment in one of the first three sentences out of anyone's mouth.
Laurent's smile grew ever so slightly more genuine. As long as the emperor didn't turn out to have any sadistic tendencies in the bedroom, Laurent thought he might very much like ruling at this man's side.
"And after that duration?" Laurent asked, with the slightest lift of his brows. His smile said that the question was a playful joke off of what have might a slip of Gregor's tongue, but there was also a query and a challenge in it.
He's not certain about this treaty, Laurent thought to himself, turning over the words in his head.
... For the duration of our engagement.
Laurent couldn't help but notice the absence of assumption that he'd be under Imperial protection for the rest of his life.
no subject
But Laurent is certainly right that the emperor's betrothed is in all ways untouchable. Doubly so, with Gregor's succession issues; no one wants to be the one to jeopardize that again. Too bad for them Gregor intends to do it himself.
Indeed, he'd laid that hint out intentionally, and is right now in the process of gauging his fiancé's likely reception to colluding on breaking the engagement. If he seems unwilling, Gregor will have to manufacture those circumstances himself, which is perfectly fine, if inconvenient. He wouldn't want to leave a mark on the man's reputation for entering into an engagement in good faith... one Gregor had never meant to follow through with.
"That's up to you," he volleys back smoothly, lifting up his wine glass-- there is a small table with an elegant decanter and two already filled glasses-- but not to drink, merely as a prop. "There was no way to say this through intermediaries, but I won't take offense if at any time you decide to back out. Barrayar is foreign to you; you might find after some time here that it, or I," a gracious nod conceding that as the more important, "might not be to your liking."
A short pause. "Or the threats of war might altogether be resolved, and the impetus for this arrangement along with it."
no subject
He had powerful motivations for securing this alliance, both personal and political.
Even if the threat of war was resolved, Vere needed to retain a strong alliance with Barrayar, which remained one of the greatest threats to the smaller and relatively weak country of Vere. A marriage would make that alliance nigh unbreakable, and no other country would dare cast a speculative eye toward Vere's wealthy farmlands if the strength of the Barrayar military was ready to protect her ally.
Vere needed an alliance by marriage, and preferably more than one. The Crown Prince, Auguste, would likely marry a princess of Patras. If Laurent could not be sold off to Barrayar to secure the alliance, he'd be whored out to some other king or queen. The Vaskans had already nearly started a war by suggesting that Laurent would not sire strong daughters. The Akielon king, by contrast, had made a tasteless comment about bending Laurent over, and Laurent had come within a hair's breadth of starting a war of his own.
Auguste, who knew his little brother well enough to tell when Laurent's temper was rising high enough to override his good sense, had knocked an entire pitcher of wine into Laurent's lap to defuse the situation.
With Gregor Vorbarra, Laurent had the hope of never being touched. He wasn't going to let go of that prospect easily, even if it meant abandoning any hope of ever securing a love match.
Who, after all, Laurent thought, could love me for any reason but my beauty?
The emperor had some reason to avoid their marriage. Laurent needed to find out why.
"It would be my greatest pleasure to aid in the resolution for any threat of war between our countries," Laurent said, smoothly diplomatic. "War is such a costly business, after all. I believe that everyone's prosperity is increased by alliances and trade. The social and economic costs of war have ripples on so many levels. It's a topic of great interest to me. And we do have an alliance treaty to finalize, in addition to our more personal union. Is there some aspect of the treaty which you wish to negotiate?"
Rhy | Shades of Magic
Superbia Squalo // KHR!
Re: Superbia Squalo // KHR!
He had been five or six when the boy had been introduced to him. One of his father's knights had brought him along. A young squire. His father had told him that meant the boy was a knight in training. That being a squire was a super important job and that the boy was lucky to get such a noble knight to serve. All Ricardo could see was some kid his own age getting pushed around by the adults and made to do all sorts of stupid thankless jobs. All the things that the lazy knights didn't want to do themselves. Carry their shit. Saddle and take care of their horses. Shine their armor. Pointless. All of it.
Pointless, just like all the stuff he had to do. He had been a bit of a pushy brat back then. The life of a noble was boring honestly. It was all about following the rules and acting civil. It was shaking hands and smiling too much. It was making nice even when you had every reason not to. Giotto was great at it. Ricardo just wanted to punch someone. Its not that he didn't have the skill or the charisma when he applied himself, it was just that he saw no reason to suck up to people that would surely stab them all in the back.
Giotto would talk to him about how they needed to learn these things because it was how they could one day help the suffering people, hurt by the bandits and the gangs and even the corrupt nobility. That it was their duty to see that the people live safe and happy lives. He wanted to believe that, he really did. But he didn't think that laughing at unfunny jokes and using the correct fork at the dinner table was the answer to that.
He had been given power. Surely God wouldn't have given it to him if he wasn't supposed to use it. And yet, he was constantly being told to stay calm. To think things through. To take a deep breath and count to ten. To walk away from fights or try to make peace before a punch was thrown. Nobles didn't fist fight. Gentlemen didn't swear. He was a Vongola and that meant he had to be held to a higher standard of conduct that others.
That is why he kept coming to where the knights trained. He claimed it was for the horses, which was true. He did love horses. He rode a lot when he was about to lose his temper. But it was also for that squire. For the boy with the long pale hair. The one he would sometimes catch practicing with real swords instead of those silly wooden ones that thew squires were forced to train with.
He leans against the fence and laughs a little. "You know, if they catch you playing with real steel, you'll get thrown out on your ear."
no subject
Supposedly apprentices were called pages until like fourteen and then squires to twenty-one but hey KHR! verse we do what we want.Carrying shit was ten times better than shaking hands and smiling, as far as Cesare was concerned. Nobody expected him not to be abrasive, even if of course he had to have manners when talking to (or rather, being ordered around by) the knights. Sure, all of those little menial labor tasks were rather boring, but they were necessary, and he took pride in accomplishing them flawlessly. It didn't go unnoticed, either. Despite often treating him like an errand boy, Vincenzio was a good man and a good knight.
He'd never be able to thank him enough for taking him in, a little mongrel nobody, and actually allowing him to train to become a warrior. Cesare was pretty sure the knight never told anyone the exact circumstances of their meeting. After all, only those of noble blood were supposed to be knighted. Nobody knew what his blood was, at least he didn't, but that was their little secret. Maybe Vincenzio saw something in him.
Maybe he was actually his bastard kid, since that was definitely a thing in those times.Either way, he was pretty happy with the chances he had, and he did his best to be perfect. That didn't mean abiding by the rules, though.
He smirks widely and ducks as the dummy swings back at him, driving the blade through it. "If," he calls back, pulling it out and straightening up, brushing some hair out of his eyes. Oh, sure, that's the son of the lord of this land, one the knights (and their apprentices) are meant to serve as well, he's probably supposed to add sire in there or whatever. But he doesn't. Just keeps watching the other with mild amusement. "And if your father catches you ditching the dance classes again..." He says it like it's the absolute pussyest thing anyone could possibly do. Nice meeting you, Ricardo.