Courtly love or domnei was a medieval European conception of nobly and chivalrously expressing love and admiration. Generally, courtly love was secret and between members of the nobility. It was also generally not practiced between husband and wife.
The "courtly love" relationship is modeled on the feudal relationship between a knight and his liege lord. The knight serves his courtly lady (love service) with the same obedience and loyalty which he owes to his liege lord. She is in complete control of the love relationship, while he owes her obedience and submission.The knight's love for the lady inspires him to do great deeds, in order to be worthy of her love or to win her favor. Thus "courtly love" was originally construed as an ennobling force whether or not it was consummated, and even whether or not the lady knew about the knight's love or loved him in return.
The "courtly love" relationship typically was not between husband and wife, not because the poets and the audience were inherently immoral, but because it was an idealized sort of relationship that could not exist within the context of "real life" medieval marriages. In the middle ages, marriages amongst the nobility were typically based on practical and dynastic concerns rather than on love. The idea that a marriage could be based on love was a radical notion. But the audience for romance was perfectly aware that these romances were fictions, not models for actual behavior. The adulterous aspect that bothers many 20th-century readers was somewhat beside the point, which was to explore the potential influence of love on human behavior. The behavior of the knight and lady in love was drawn partly from troubadour poetry and partly from a set of literary conventions derived from the Latin poet Ovid, who described the "symptoms" of love as if it were a sickness. The "lovesick" knight became a conventional figure in medieval romance. Typical symptoms: sighing, turning pale, turning red, fever, inability to sleep, eat or drink. Romances often contained long interior monologues in which the lovers describe their feelings.
tl;dr characters are in a fantasy/medieval setting and having a courtly romance.
How to Play
- Comment with your character, preferences, etc. Also, be sure to include what "role" your character will be taking on in this little affair.
- Lord/lady
- Knight (gender neutral, of course)
- Prince/princess
- Bard or poet
- Servant
- Commoner (for the ultimate "forbidden romance")
-Comment to others, using the RNG to determine your fate.
Prompts- When I First Saw Your Face: You are meeting your liege or your knight for the first time. What you see takes your breath away.
- Lovesick: Your pining for your beloved has made you ill! You can't eat, you can't sleep, you're in loves throes.
- Playing Hard to Get: If you're of nobility, you at least have to pretend you're not interested.
- You're So Coy: The art of flirtation is just getting started, but you have to be subtle about it.
- In Your Honor: Be it a jousting match or a battle, you're going to win this for your lord/lady's name!
- A Token: You must give your knight something for good luck.
- A Gift: This is the reverse of the above. You must give your love something.
- Keep a Secret: Kisses behind columns, holding hands under the table. You must sneak away little moments together, but you have to keep others in the dark.
- Back from War: Your knight has been away in combat, and now they've returned. You want to shower them with affection.
- Consummate: Believe it or not, courtly love could have a physical angle, as well. Sometimes physical afairs happened.
- To Defend Your Honor: Someone has insulted your fair lady or lord. You know what that means! DUEL.
- I'll Protect You: The lands are under an attack, and you must protect the person you love!
- Breaking the Rules: You've decided to abandon the pretense of courtly love and actually be with this person, even if that means running away.
- WILDCARD
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bakerstreet2020-08-23 03:09 pm
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They'd spoken during that first meeting about the afterlife, a conversation which had stuck with her as much as anything else that day. If someone had told her then that she'd be feeling this now, she might have laughed at them. She almost wants to laugh now, but she doesn't, instead her smile grows more subdued, eyes brimming with tears again but this time not of sadness or despair.
As trust and friendship had grown, Gawain gradually told her more about the Fey, and about his clan in particular. In his peoples' culture she had finally manged to find a little peace with her losses. And now, in their glade, feeling smaller than ever as Gawain approaches on his horse and says those words to her, though his voice barely audible, she hears the hope in it.
It's a farewell, yes, but that sense of finality has gone and left her with optimism instead. Less goodbye and more, see you again soon.
He will return. He will find her. She's as certain of that as she is of her own heartbeat, now.
"To pass in the twilight," Claire returns, soft as a feather.
no subject
Still, he looks into her tear-sheened gaze, and the sadness, however sweeping, fails to tear like an arrow-point barbed.
The parting words of his people are no great secret, spoken as they are in not only their private language but the common tongue. They've been overheard by enough humans to be oft discussed, in ridicule and repulsion, and sometimes even mimicked back to them like the flimsiest attempt at truce.
The mere prospect of encouraging an outsider to use them would once have enraged him. He is not a Fey without flaws, still subject to deep-rooted and long-nursed suspicion. But in this moment Gawain feels himself far from the kind he used to be.
And the knowledge in no way disappoints him.
The last word of Claire's reply hangs in the air, velvety as the dusk it seems intent on bringing into being, as he nudges his horse's side. Agilely the courser turns, easing past where she stands, those first hoofbeats hushed, as though in deference to the glade's protection. But as soon as they touch the forest path it surges forward and away, allowing its rider, mercifully perhaps, no instant in which to look back.