bakerstreet | You're my king, I'm your lionheart

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

How to Play

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Things were changing because Jon was King. He had more responsibilities. Every action, every plan would be scrutinized, and what could Rey offered him other than loyalty? She could offer to fight for him, with him, and protect him as best as she could. Once the war with the White Walkers was over, and there was some semblance of peace in the Realm then Jon would have to think of having a family. Having an heir and she wasn't a noble woman. She was an orphan with no title to her name--which was fine.

Whatever 'destiny' she had, she would fight and carve her own path.

For now, she had to wait, and keep a keen eye out for the knights around them. The Emperor himself looked like a figure of death, surrounded in dark shadows. The cloak around his figure only helped with that illusion, and maybe that's what he wanted to go for? Some rulers wanted to show off their status with gold, and jewels, others wanted to rule with fear.

In an instant, the warm blood in her veins turned to ice. Try as she might to keep her face devoid of emotion, confusion still flickered in her eyes. He speaks like a snake. He can speak lies as well. She had to restrain herself from grabbing the hilt of her sword as not to aggravate his court or insult the Emperor.

"I'm afraid there's been some confusion, Your Grace." Rey began, keeping her voice even and calm as she could muster.

"This is my first time in Mustafar. I'm sure I would recall a place as...memorable as this." With the ironwood trees, and the heat that made it feel like Hell itself. Winterfell is my home. She wanted to say, yet held her tongue as to not cause a scene.

The Emperor seemingly leaned back into his throne of stone, parting out his lips to let out a chuckle, which slowly erupted into a laugh. He sounded like a mad king and Rey was sorely tempted to pull Jon out and run back to their ship.

The Emperor's laugh was unsettling. Jon had heard the stories about the Westerosi they called the Mad King, and he supposed this was how he would've sounded like, too. There was just something... dark and sinister about him, and so terribly lost. He wasn't sure what rattled his nerves more, the Night King or this Emperor. He glanced at Rey, wanting to make sure that she was okay, but she even looked more anxious than he was. Which made sense, because even he couldn't fathom what this man was saying. She was from Mustafar? True, she was an orphan with no title to her name, but nobody had questioned that she'd come from anywhere but the North. And yet—

"The lies Luke Skywalker must have told you," the Emperor's strange, snakelike voice continued, and Jon found himself turning his eyes back to the dark figure on the throne. Almost as if he was compelled to. "Did he tell you that you were nothing? That you were not wanted? Did he not tell you that you were stolen?"

Jon couldn't help scoffing. Luke had been a weird old man, but he'd been kind to Rey. In his own way, like an eccentric uncle. He couldn't imagine what this Emperor was insinuating about Rey's past. But then the Emperor turned to him too. "Oh, you laugh, Jon Snow, but what do you know? The lies Eddard Stark must have told you." He laughed again, and Jon found himself seething, the urge to reach for his sword nearly impossible to resist. "Allow me to introduce you to each other properly, then."

He gestured with a withered hand towards Rey. "Rey Palpatine, Princess of Mustafar, Heir to the Empire," he announced in a loud, booming voice that seemed to reverberate right through their skulls and throughout the chamber, and Jon turned to look at her with wide, grey eyes.

Rey could feel Jon's anger rising as much as her own. They were dealing with a Mad King. A man who spoke like a snake and more than likely acted like one. Someone who sold their soul to gain magical abilities to control their men like puppets. He was spewing lies and she wanted nothing more than to slit his throat for it.

She bit down on her tongue, trying to remain civil in the Emperor's court. Luke never made her feel worthless, or nothing. Children though, they could be cruel, saying things their parents whispered in their homes. They made her feel like nothing, but she always had Jon. He had been her rock and now....

Now she wanted nothing more than to silence the snake seated before them, cut his head off and leave.

What finally made her snap was hearing those raspy words slither out of his mouth, declaring her his heir. The rage in her came to a burning, bright point. Shock registered on her face for a brief moment until she saw Jon look at her. How she wanted to leave then and there, but her anger blinded her.

"That is not who I am," she began, speaking in deadly calm, and even tones. Her eyes fixated on the Emperor, taking one step in front of another until she was in front of Jon, trying to protect him from the lies the monster spewed out.

"You cannot deny what you are, dear child," the Emperor continue, a smirk playing on his withered face, taunting Rey further. She began to feel lightening at the tips of her fingers, her anger and rage needing an escape. The emperor watched on with fascination. One more push and she would see the truth.

Unless Jon could talk her down before she attempted to murder the Emperor.

You're my king, I'm your lionheart

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