bakerstreet | Of a lowly birth

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Of a lowly birth

♕ The Royally Common Romance Meme ♔

❝And I tell you truly, Daenerys, there is no man in all the world who will ever be half so true to you as me.❞

Inspired by an anon comment on rpanons ages ago about a PSL they'd like to play.

Heavy the head that wears the crown, they say, and little could be more true. Of course, there is glamor in the life: power, privilege, lavish feasts, fine clothes...if your monarchy is doing well, that is. But there are also struggles that few others would understand, such as life or death decisions that need to be made to protect your kingdom at best and being a mere puppet with no real power at worst. At the very least, you're lonely. Certainly there are people around you at all times to protect and serve you, yet they aren't truly companions. They're no one you can talk to.

Well, not no one. Not completely. There is one person who's allowed close to you. Perhaps they're even allowed to be alone with you. A trusted advisor, a handmaid, a knight, a court jester, whatever they are, their companionship and support may leave you wanting those peaceful moments and lingering glances to mean...more.

And what if you are the other side, someone without royal birth offering your service to your highness? You may have been born into this life, forced into it, or gave yourself to it willingly. It could be much, much worse - at least you and your charge have a good relationship, to the point that you might do anything for them. Have your feelings for them always been more inappropriate than they should, or is this a new feeling? And such feelings - they can't be returned, can they? Or you could see your charge as the human that they are rather than an ideal. Does that mean you can give them the best advice and service you can? And what of their duties to marry and continue their line? Will you step back and let them be bound to another?

Then there are the pressures of the throne. The most innocent could be corrupted by power, and you would be in no position to stop them, no matter how it pained you to see the one you cared for twisted and become a wholly different person.

To allow anything to blossom between the two of you is risky and perhaps even deadly. Not even royalty can put a stay to an execution of someone who's, for all intents and purposes, committed treason by becoming emotionally compromised. All the same, it may be worth it, in the end. Royalty, after all, has a short shelf life, and the head on the spike may be the one wearing the crown.

HOW TO PLAY

Comment with your character and preferences, any relevant info, and what role you'd like to play, royal or not. You might also want to include if you're open to smut.

Reply to others.

Let your imagination guide you! Stolen moments, keeping secrets, battle plans, discussions about ruling filled with double meaning, jealousy, learning about arranged marriages, just spending time together, or being able to do nothing as your love turns into an evil queen/king are just a few ideas.

My other possible picture for this meme was Eridan and Feferi before I settled on Dany and Jorah so there must be a theme.

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[ Default is book version but I'm happy to go with film canon as well.

She could be either the commoner or the royal. ]

Edited 2021-11-07 21:13 (UTC)

It's been a few hours since Duncan Idaho followed the Atreides beacon like a distant pinging radar, and scooped up the last of his house from the desert.

Paul has won the respect of their Fremen hosts and so they've been welcomed into the sietch like brothers, Duncan's two masters now united under one roof. The three new arrivals are subsumed into the underground sietch, falling into the rhythm of a life almost familiar after his time living amongst the Fremen. They've been set up in one living quarters together: by winning the duel, Paul inherited Jamis' yali, where Jessica now has her own small chamber while Duncan and Paul share the other room. (Space is at a premium in the underground cave system and so even the Chosen One, even the Mah'di, has to share.)

Paul is off speaking to Stilgar, and Duncan feels that instinctive itch to go find him, stand by his side, guard him from danger — but the boy needs to negotiate in private, so that leaves his bodyguard and his mother together. His task is to help her get out of the stillsuit properly, where Paul had helped her into it.

Duncan has been watching her carefully: searching for the grief where he can feel it within himself, lodged beneath his breastbone. But Lady Jessica is far too skilled at hiding her emotions, masking whatever she's feeling and thinking, and so he can't see any crack in the facade and her sharp edges.

"No housekeepers this time around, only me," Duncan says wryly. There were once handmaidens and servants to adjust Jessica's veils, to carefully pin up her hair, to dote on the concubine whom their duke treated like a wife.

They're all dead now, along with Mapes, and the Fremen are a self-sufficient people.

So, he's all that's left, playing the part of bodyguard and manservant alike, and so he steps closer to the Bene Gesserit. There are words on the tip of his tongue, and yet he finds himself unexpectedly tongue-tied — he's accustomed to chumming around with fellow soldiers, Paul, Gurney, even Leto, but he's never really been alone with the Lady Jessica.

"Glad I found you two," he finally manages, as he tugs at one of her buckles. He keeps his gaze riveted on the suit itself, trying not to think about the fact that his rough-calloused hands are touching the Lady Jessica; his duke's concubine; that distant untouchable queen at the heart of the Atreides kingdom; the mother of the Mahdi.

[Royal.]

[[Definitely the commoner. Can age up as required.]]

She died.

She died. Of that, she's absolutely certain. There's no dream that she's ever had that could feel that real, or linger with the smell of burned hair in her nostrils and her throat still raw from smoke and screaming. She's still dressed in the clothes they burned her in, spattered red with the paint they threw as the cart dragged her to her pyre. She's still got ash and dried spittle on her face. She can still hear the screams of Charyou tree.

She died. And yet, here she is, and it sure as shit doesn't look like the Clearing to her.

Doesn't look like anywhere she's ever heard of, for that matter. The sun beats down like midsummer's day, although it was a chill autumn's night when she closed her eyes against the flames. The buildings around her are like none she's ever seen, pyramids rising like mountains, and there are so many of them - a city, a real city, such as she thinks must dwarf even Gilead. There are people, strangely-dressed and with their hair worn in the oddest ways she ever did see. Some of them have weapons, old ones, swords and spears and shit like that, like the stories her da used to tell sometimes. Several of them are shouting at her. She's dimly surprised to find that she can understand them.

I'm dreaming. It makes sense, then. A quick dream before I die. Or else it's that pink ball o' hers, dragged me in to show me summat. But I can't make head nor tails of it, so why worry?

From the sharply barked orders, she gathers she's somewhere she's not supposed to be, that they're baffled by how she's dressed (fair enough, she guesses; odd enough for her to go muffled in her father's shirt and jeans and old serape at the best of times, but the fact of how she's sweltering proves it'd be odder still here) and seem to be arguing among themselves over whether it's paint or blood on her, and at last, that she's to be taken to the Queen. All this she listens to with a kind of distant confusion. There's a ringing in her ears, like distant bells. She keeps flexing her fingers, as if to make sure she's still got them. Something... something's missing. But it's all right. None of it matters. None of it's real. She's still dying, somewhere.

So there's no reason to resist when two of the armoured men take her by the arms, and no reason not to follow where they lead her. She walks almost in a stupor. When there's no choice, hesitation was ever a fault. She'll see where this dream takes her.

It takes her up one of those strange, alien-looking pyramids, and to a room that's so dark after the bright sun outside that she has to blink rapidly to see, red-faced with the heat and the exertion of the climb. This room, too, is like nothing she's seen or even imagined: huge, cavernous, with pillars of gleaming marble. She's never seen a throne room before, nor anything like one - even if she weren't so provincial, it's been many a century since the times of kings and queens - but there's no denying that's where she is, even so. She's rarely felt so small, or so much a backwater hick, as she does standing here in her rancher's clothes, sooty and covered in paint, with tears and sweat both no doubt smearing her face.

And then she remembers that she's dead, and she doesn't have to care about how small she feels, or how common she is, for what can they do to her, now? There's a hot kernel of something like anger in her gut, that whispers that after all she's lived through today, she's not going to be intimidated by fancy halls and kings and queens.

She curtseys, nonetheless, because fearless doesn't mean mannerless. It's a clumsy curtsey - jeans and riding boots aren't exactly made for the task - but if this Queen has a problem with it, that's just going to have to be what it is.

"It's paint, sai." Sai probably isn't right for royalty, but it's what she's got. "They were talkin' it over, so I figured I'd best set it to rest. Just paint."

(no subject)

kivio - 2021-11-08 05:58 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

girl_at_the_window - 2021-11-09 22:10 (UTC) - Expand

( 100% the commoner, maybe a royal nurse? idk. happy to au her into things. )

[Commoner, possibly even reviled if his reputation has preceded him.]

[ royalty ]

[ either. she's technically a commoner, but could pretty much be the same as royalty to others. ]

( Her kingdom for an Impa tbqh but Link and crossovers are also welcome! )

[ (materializes)

I SUPPORT your quest for an Impa but in the meantime?? :> Since "royally common romance" is basically just shorthand for The Legend of Zelda, are there any scenes or timelines or AUs you're feeling? ]

[Definitely the commoner here.]

[ She's been on both sides and always with the strength and grace of a queen. Canon, cross canon, AUs all fine.]

[I'm game for AU with this one as the commoner.]

[ooc; very open to au's.]

[ either role, she's a lady but could pose as commoner. ]

[ ooc; satine as the, idk, court painter working on a portrait of lady sansa? their previous thread gave me the idea and i wanted to run it by you. no problem if it's not your thing! ]

(no subject)

eyried - 2021-11-08 16:00 (UTC) - Expand

[ yes, give this to me. idc what role, just gimme the au lmao. ota! ]

[ how would dean like to deal with a literal princess, perhaps WOEFULLY out of her time/element? lmao, i can only IMAGINE the hilarity, haha! more than willing to discuss deets/ideas, hmu! ]

[ In his universe, he's practically royalty ;) ]

[Who wants a chance with High King Margo?]

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Page 1 of 2

Lady Jessica | Dune

finally a fleeting spark of inspo, delivering this as promised! i can tweak anything if necessary

daenerys targaryen | game of thrones

Susan Delgado | Dark Tower | OTA

for kivio | cw: death, pregnancy loss

marta cabrera 🔪 knives out 🔪 m/f

Tobias Eaton | OC | OTA

rhaenys martell targaryen | asoiaf/got | ota

margaery tyrell | game of thrones

Princess Zelda — Breath of the Wild

no subject

Justin Martingale | OC | M/F

Lagertha | Vikings | M/F

Yelena Belova | Black Widow

jyn erso || rogue one || ota

cassian andor || rogue one || ota

rey || star wars || ota

ben solo || star wars || ota

bodhi rook || rogue one || ota

rose tico || star wars || ota

sansa stark | asoiaf/got | ota

no subject

dean winchester | supernatural

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Nico Acosta | OC | OTA

Evie Montgomery | OC | OTA

Essek Thelyss | Critical Role | OTA

Regulus Black | Harry Potter | OTA

Princess Serenity / Sailor Moon

Margo Hanson | The Magicians