bakerstreet | Companion to Royalty

Companion to Royalty

Companion to Royalty Meme

There's one truth you must know of royalty: though power may lay in their hands, the crown is a cage. Whether you've always been noble, came into this position recently by complete surprise, or a simple person caught in the fray, you're realizing that leaders actually lead very little - even down to choosing who they spend their most intimate moments with. From eternal bonds of matrimonies to the distractions provided by courtesans, the people behind the throne make the rules. They cannot risk losing control of their most elevated and strategically placed pawn with a match gone wrong, which could create a domino effect and doom possibly thousands.

So, what part do you play in this game?

Lifetime Royal: This is what you've been raised to do.
Sudden Royal: You just learned of your position, which has been secret from you your entire life, or you unexpectedly inherited the job.
Spouse: You're to be married to nobility.
Concubine or Courtesan: For the royal, you're to be a sexual diversion.
Unaffiliated: You're either a lower-ranking noble or a peasant, but you're free from all the machinations of the shadowy cabal...for now.

How willing are you?

Completely Willing: Either you love the person you know you'll be matched with, or you're excited about the possibilities.
Wary: There's no choice in the matter for you, so you may as well approach this situation cautiously.
Unwilling: You didn't want to be matched up with someone. At all. Ever.

What path will you follow, once you're set upon it (there is, after all, little choice for the chosen ones)?

Prepared for This: Either you're a royal and have been one since birth, or you knew you'd marry or sexually entertain one.
Make Up for Lost Time: This life wasn't the one you lived until now, but times change. You're important or will be a companion to a very important person, like it or not.
A Sacrificial Token: Somewhere along the line, your people royally pissed off someone in a key position. So, in an attempt to smooth out relations, you've been given away as a gift to the highest power, either as a spouse for a political alliance or as a concubine or courtesan.
Pomp and Circumstance: All proper, this arrangement. You're to be married, as you've been promised to each other by your respective families. Consummation on the wedding night is key. Perhaps it's encouraged that the two of you act as if this is really a love match, to add insult to injury.
Genuine Love: Speaking of love matches, congratulations! You're one of the incredible few who gets to marry for love, so your lovemaking should be all the more enthused.
Only a Plaything: Heavy is the head who wears the crown, so you're expected to take on some side entertainment even if that's not your preference. Or you could be the courtesan...such a pretty, perfumed word for what the role really is...
Volunteered: You wanted this position, either of spouse or concubine. Your reasons are your own.
Cruel: You're powerful. You can do what you want to this person, a mere ant in comparison to you.
Forbidden: Even the most powerful can't have everything they want, such as someone who's promised to or with another; taking them for your own would create strife and destroy alliances, even to the point of tempting war.
Work Your Way Up: There's always a right tool for the job and you find no shame in using your own special tools to better your life.
Give Me an Heir: Whether you're legitimate or a concubine used as a surrogate, you must help in continuing the royal line.
Mutual Benefit: Both of you are comfortable with this arrangement because you're either compatible or it takes the pressure off of you otherwise.
Want to be More: Though you've been relegated to courtesan, you want to be there one and only spouse...no matter if that role is already filled or not.
Growing Affection: It may have started as all puppet strings and power plays, but now, you lo- care for them.
Loved Before: Before you became so important and powerful, before you became the focus of all the world, it seems, they were there with you. They were with you then, and you want them to be with you now. They ground you and they care about you for you.
Because You're Normal: They're outside of all the court's nonsense, and that's appealing to you. It's like a breath of fresh air.
WILDCARD

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Gansey very much wanted to reciprocate. It was dangerous, however, because of the thoughts it might give him. But when Laurent began to undo those fastenings to reveal the slender, pale length of his neck, Gansey was not quite able to focus on complete restraint of his thoughts. He had always been very possessive of his things, as he told Laurent. People were no exception.

He let out a slow breath. Without the harsh fastenings about his throat, Laurent was even more beautiful. Softer somehow. It made something in his chest ache.

The fact that a mark was clever for pragmatic reasons didn't even cross Gansey's mind. Not that he would have minded, unless that was the sole reason. But it was not something he considered questioning even a little. Fool in love, and too genuine to assume anything less.

He pulled his hands back so that he might brush his fingers against Laurent's throat. Gently, he pressed his palms against either side and pressed his lips against the delicate shape of the other man's Adam's apple. Laurent had put his marks up high; Gansey wanted to do the opposite. So he pressed kiss after kiss down Laurent's throat before he settled on the soft patch of skin right at the base.

There, he caught Laurent's throat between his lips and sucked, worked on giving him a mark in return. It was only when he felt he was finished that he scraped his front teeth down across the spot to give it a few extra red blunt lines.

Laurent tensed the slightest bit in Gansey's grip, nervous but wanting desperately to be able to trust. His lips parted, breath uneven as Gansey kissed his way down, so gentle and careful.

Spooked though Laurent was, he wanted this, wanted Gansey.

Gasping with surprise and pleasure as Gansey sucked on his skin, Laurent bucked lightly in his grip, hips grinding forward once against Gansey's in an instinctive wave of pleasure. It felt like nothing Laurent had experienced before, and his head was spinning when Gansey let up. Panting softly, Laurent stared at him, completely riveted, and then tipped his head to take a gentle kiss from Gansey's lips.

Red was more comely on Laurent than blue, in Gansey's opinion.

It was a small currant mark. One roughly about the size of a coin. It stood out against the paleness of Laurent's throat and drew the eye almost instantly. It was a satisfying sight; he wanted to leave an upward trail of them, scatter them about, but didn't think he should be so bold.

He caught the kiss and returned it, just as gentle. Which was a difficult feat when he was thrumming with energy; the way Laurent had bucked down against him had been like a shot. It left him burning.

"Lovely," he murmured, sliding his hands up to trace his fingers along the shape of Laurent's jaw.

"It quite suits you."

Laurent laughed softly, watching Gansey with an infatuated grin. "Does it?" he asked, suspecting that Gansey's opinion on this might be somewhat biased.

Lingering long enough to kiss his lover again, Laurent got to his feet, finally releasing Gansey. He left his tunic open at the throat, laces trailing, so that Gansey could continue to see the mark.

"What was it you wanted to show me?" His blood was thrumming through his veins, hot and yearning, and Laurent savored the feeling of it, the sense of adoration and trust that he felt

Very good. Had Laurent decided to start lacing up his collar again. Gansey would have politely requested that he leave it open until they returned to the castle. Seeing his handiwork was rewarding.

When Laurent pushed up Gansey followed suit, suddenly much more aware of the crick in his back; it was not solely from the awkward positioning on the stairs.

"One of the most magical things about this forest," he answered, offering his hand to Laurent so that he could hold it. Holding hands—a simple gesture, yet far more intimate than one might expect. "It's not far, so we can leave the horses here for now. They'll prefer this open area anyway."

Sky snorted, as though confirming the comment.

Laurent tentatively accepted Gansey's hand, finding emotional intimacy to be far more difficult than physical intimacy, but no less irresistible. Once he had hold of Gansey's hand, he didn't want to let go, giving it a squeeze and stepping a little closer to Gansey's side.

Watching their surroundings as they walked, Laurent let his thumb rub idly along the side of Gansey's hand, possessive and affectionate without being entirely aware of it. Gansey was his now, and Laurent wanted to make sure he was safe and happy and belonged entirely to Laurent alone. "Truly magical?" Laurent asked, brow furrowing slightly. Magic was nothing but a distant myth in irreligious Vere, though the adjective remained.

"I wish!" he said, throwing his head back to look up through the leaves at the breaks of sunlight. They were more huddled together here, creating a private alcove. There were many of those little alcoves scattered about but there was only one that he truly loved.

Gansey's instinctive response to the thumb gently caressing him was to give a small squeeze in response. "No, not really magical, but as close as nature can get, I think. Sometimes there are places that seem like they don't belong in this world." He still quite believed in magic, however.

"Ah, here we go, just through... here... looks like it's become a bit overgrown, watch your step."

He pushed through some bushes and low branches, looking at the ground and pointing out some gnarled roots that had grown along the way. When they finally broke through that all they found a quiet scene. A small enclave made of thick old trees. However, they were not simply trees. They were Wisteria Trees. Long vines of flowering purple hanging down against broken patches of light, glittering where small beads of drying dew were caught. The trees themselves were bent and had nooks and crannies in which to comfortably drape with a book or a partner—which Gansey had, in the past. The book part. He hadn't bothered bringing a partner before.

"Here we are. One of my favorite places."

Laurent had never seen anything like it before. No wisteria grew in Vere, and he only knew distantly of the plant from books, nothing which had ever stuck out to him as significant.

His breath caught as they entered the little sanctuary, sparkling with sunlight and dew and painted all around with purple flowers. Awed, Laurent's grip tightened on Gansey's hand, turning around slowly to admire the entire place. "It's beautiful," he murmured, glad to be so privileged as to see this place with Gansey alone. "What... I've never seen anything like this. What causes it?"

While Laurent looked around at the flowers, Gansey watched Laurent. Cliche, perhaps, but he thought the expression on Laurent's handsome face was more charming than the flowers.

"Perhaps it's magic after all?" he answered cheekily, giving Laurent a flirtatious smile as he tugged him further inside. Once they were no longer holding the bushes askew they sunk back into place, leaving no clear exit. It was a place untouched by man. He wasn't even sure of his mother knew about it, honestly, considering she never cared to travel too far from the castle.

"It's especially pretty at night. There are a lot of fireflies around here; when they light up, it's something else altogether."

"I would dearly love to see that," Laurent said, gaping in awe at the beauty of the place. He turned to smile at Gansey and found his betrothed watching him.

Coloring slightly in surprise, Laurent stepped close, pressing a soft kiss to Gansey's cheek and then resting his brow against the side of Gansey's head. "I suppose we shouldn't stay until dark tonight. We have already missed lunch, and I expect people might begin to worry if we missed dinner also."

His arm hooked loosely around Gansey's waist, craving touch and not wanting to step away from his betrothed.

"It's not as uncommon as you might think," he said while wearing a wry smile, "for me to not appear at dinner. Ah, but they must be hoping that I'll drag some manners together and take you, since it's the proper thing to do."

Frankly, he'd much rather stay in the forests with Laurent, riding and showing him all the little nooks and crannies.

"My mother will want to see you." He brushed a hand against the side of Laurent's head, taking delight in the way that arm felt hanging about his waist. "To ask you if you find me too deplorable to marry, and if not, when she can set a wedding date." Not that his mother told him such. Gansey knew her quite well and expected something along those lines to take place.

"But another night, I'd like to take you into town. Really, they do have the most interesting foods on the street."

"I'd like that very much," Laurent said. "I do want to see the town, and I will accept no other tour guide."

Feeling shy again, Laurent let go of him, wandering around the little space and letting his fingertips drift over the branches. He touched a flower with a fingertip, entranced by the beauty, and then drew his hand back, embarrassed to have shown such entrancement. He looked away, toward the way they had come.

"I suppose we ought to return. I would not want your mother to be waiting too long, and she may not yet know that I share your penchant for disappearing all day into the forest."

"Maybe not," he agreed, though he suspected that if she did not know Laurent was fond if it, she had at least assumed it was something he might be willing to deal with on Gansey's part. He knew Laurent was right, that they should return, even if he had no real desire to.

"... But she will learn, I'm sure."

Only, he did not make to return through the bushes. After looking at the flowers he carefully plucked a larger one and twisted it in his fingers. Mulled over a few thoughts before stepping closer to Laurent again. Brushing the back of his knuckles against the side of Laurent's face, skimming his ear, Gansey tucked the flower behind it and nestled it against his flaxen hair.

"For you."

Staying still as Gansey touched him, tucking the flower behind his ear, Laurent's lips tipped to one side, fond and amused. "You're very much a romantic, aren't you?"

Laurent watched his eyes for a moment, wanting to memorize every detail of Gansey's face, and wanting Gansey to always look at him in that way, with those eyes.

"You don't need to worry," he said, tucking back a strand of his own hair and feeling the brush of the soft flowers against his fingertips. "I'll tell your mother that it would be my honor to marry you. I've never met anyone I wanted more."

"Tragically so," he confirmed, resting his hand on his hip while he admired the color against Laurent's hair. It was another nice color; not the same kind of nice as the red mark, but pleasant, highlighting the blue of his eye rather than making it seem harsh.

"Another thing I will have to apologize for in advance."

Though he wasn't quite certain if it was truly because he was a romantic or if because he simply became completely enamored with the things that truly gained his attention. At court he had to act distant yet friendly to all. There were few, precious things that he directed his pent up passion at behind closed doors.

Laurent's response made him smile again, though it was a softer, more fragile sort of smile. "I am pleased to hear you say so, my prince." A thought crossed his eyes but he did not voice it; merely rubbed his thumb against his lower lip in his usual habit before stepping closer to the grouping of bushes they had pushed through before.

"We'll take the long way back. The grounds really are very nice, even if they don't have the same charm as the forest."

Laurent saw something in Gansey's eyes he didn't understand--a falter, a pause, something crossing his face for a moment, and a fragility in the smile.

Forgetting his own self-doubts, Laurent felt a rush of longing to reassure Gansey, to dissolve any hint of doubt that Gansey had ever felt. But he didn't know what the matter was, and he'd never learned how to offer comfort.

Following after Gansey, Laurent caught his wrist to stop him. But as Gansey met his eyes, Laurent found no words on his tongue. He didn't know how to proceed, from here, with Gansey's flowers behind his ear and Gansey's mark on his throat. It occurred to him that he had no idea of Gansey's feelings toward their union, since Gansey had been so very careful to say nothing in opposition to it. And then Laurent had pushed, stealing kisses and coaxing him to more.

Or, alternately, the hesitation might be in response to the cool aloofness in what Laurent had said, the hint of resignation.

Affection or space? Laurent had no idea what the correct answer was, and very little idea what he wanted.

"I've not... asked you if you're willing in this," Laurent said at last, not yet letting go of Gansey's wrist.

"Mm?"

He glanced from the hand grasping his wrist to Laurent's eyes. It was true, he had not said a single thing against the union. Had tried, very hard, to make his intended feel comfortable and happy.

It was almost a difficult question. Even if he had been caught by surprise he had always known he would be set into an arranged marriage. Perhaps not quite so soon, but that had been because of his own distractions. He was of marriageable age. Was it a question of willing or not willing when he had always expected it would happen?

"I am... an anxious creature, by nature," he said after a moment of deliberation, "which happens to be another one of my flaws. I worry. At first I was worried that we would not get along, or that you would not like me. That you might not like the kingdom." It hadn't occurred to him until now that his mother might have pulled that last minute stunt because she knew he would have stressed over how to make his betrothed happy for weeks.

"But when I met you, my heart calmed. I suppose I never really considered whether or not I was willing—but with you, I feel that I want to. Want and willing, even acceptance... they feel different. I had not really known that before. Not when it comes to political endeavors."

Laurent watched Gansey's eyes, feeling his heart pound with longing and uncertainty. He wanted to reassure Gansey, to let him know that they were partners now, and that his place was always going to be by Gansey's side.

Shifting his grip, Laurent took Gansey's hand, winding their fingers together and squeezing. "I swear my loyalty to you," he said, voice steady and sincere, keeping tight hold of Gansey's hand as he spoke. "And to your kingdom. My homeland's interests will always come third, and my own desires fourth. If you will have me, I will always be yours."

It was a serious vow, for how short a time they'd known each other, but Laurent meant it. He would gladly have spent his life celibate and alone, if he'd been put in a marriage that offered no hope of friendship or affection. Gansey was better than anything he could have dreamed.

He gave Laurent's hand a squeeze and twisted his wrist so that he might brush his lips against the back of his prince's hand. He did not doubt the promise; while he had not known Laurent for long, he could sense it was genuine. And it was beautiful. It made his heart ache with its loveliness. It was faint, but his cheeks and the tips of his ears colored with pleasure.

Truly, what an amazing person this was. He looked forward to learning every little thing he could about this Laurent of Vere.

"I wouldn't want you to put your own desires last," he answered, gaze flicking from their joined hands back to Laurent's face. "I want you to have whatever you desire. You said that you like your men real and flawed—I would very much like the same." His lips quirked, "And I would like to spoil you as much as you'll allow."

He felt like it should have gone without saying, but he added so there was no question, "Of course I'll have you. Nothing would make me happier."

"Fourth," Laurent corrected, smiling as Gansey spoke. "Not last."

He curled his free hand around Gansey's cheek, pressing close against him and watching Gansey's eyes. "And I'm not amending it. I don't have to worry in the least if I put my own desires fourth. Because if you are the man I believe you are, I suspect that you will always put my happiness first, as I will try to do for you."

Sliding his hand a little further to curl around Gansey's neck, Laurent pulled him into another kiss, sweet and earnest, to seal their agreement. He belonged to Gansey now, and Gansey was his. Laurent wasn't going to let anyone take that away from him now.

As the kiss broke, Laurent brushed his nose lightly against Gansey's, smiling wide with joy and affection. "I like the thought of you spoiling me."

Well, that was not logic Gansey could argue. Laurent was right; he would always try to put Laurent first when he could. The only time he might not would be when the good of his people might be at risk. Being a king would always have to matter more than his own heart. It was part of the job.

He accepted the kiss happily, sliding an arm around Laurent's waist when their lips met. It was fast but it was thrilling and it didn't feel like it was only yesterday that Laurent had arrived.

It was a heavenly moment. The hand around his neck, the sweetness of the kiss. It was a moment that would keep him up at night as he played it over and over in his mind. Too perfect.

He could not help stealing another short kiss before answering, "Oh? And tell me, my dear, how you might like to be spoiled." It would be much easier for him to do so with more knowledge as to what Laurent enjoyed. He had some of his own ideas, of course, but he was curious as to what Laurent might consider spoiling.

Laurent knew that as the future king's partner, he would always be secondary to the kingdom. And he knew he had the privilege and responsibility that he could put Gansey first, and to make sure that Gansey didn't selflessly sacrifice himself for the kingdom--which would end up hurting the kingdom irreparably in the long run.

"I..." Laurent said, completely uncertain what he should ask for. He'd never been in a romantic relationship before, and didn't know how it was supposed to work, or what kind of spoiling he could hope for. "Lots of kisses, I suppose. Napping with my head in your lap, or curled into your arms while you play with my hair. I enjoyed that quite a bit."

Smiling happily, Laurent kissed him again, then again, utterly unable to resist his beloved, and forgetting again that they were supposed to be heading back.

How easily distracted they both were. Not that Gansey really wanted to return. He much preferred Laurent's company to that of the court, especially in such a private, lovely place. Gansey had a selfish desire to not share even though he knew it could only benefit Laurent to find allies within the court quickly, if only for his own comfort. And he also had no doubt that some of the ladies were hankering to sink their teeth into his fiance. Not in a bad way, precisely. But he expected Laurent would be explaining his skin regimen and how he kept his hair so smooth several times over.

"All things easily done," he laughed once their kiss ended, planting an affectionate one on the man's forehead. "I enjoyed that too. Your hair is beautiful. I could play with it all day." Hardly an exaggeration.

"And I will surprise you with more than that, I promise you."

Grinning, he brushed back some of Laurent's hair, "Do you have a preference as to when the wedding should be, then?"

"No," Laurent said, honest. He was relaxed in Gansey's arms, leaning against him and resting his forehead against Gansey's shoulder. "The wedding is a symbol of our political alliance, and should be treated as such. We'll be expected to perform our roles as the future ruling couple. I'm resigned to my duty, in terms of the wedding."

Hugging Gansey a little tighter, Laurent gave his throat a light nip and lifted his head with a smile. "In terms of us, however. We can make whatever vows we like in private, and there's no reason at all for us to wait before we share a bed, now that we're promised to each other."

He found that to be an unfortunate truth. A romantic at heart, he would want the wedding to have personal meaning—but Laurent was right. It would be a political thing. Helen's had been. A dry affair that Helen only enjoyed because she designed her dress and ate so much cake that she made herself sick.

"You're right, of course. However, I would still like to do something a bit more formal first," he said, turning his head so he could press a kiss against Laurent's temple. "Or... ah. I think I know." He grinned to himself, ideas hitting him quickly as he considered what he might want to make things a bit more formal. There was no need for a ceremony or anything like that, but there was one thing that would satisfy the traditionalist in him.

"You'll have a surprise tomorrow." No better time to begin spoiling than the present. Or... near future, as it were. This was something he'd need to take care of early the next morning.

"I hope you'll look forward to it."

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