#also only a monarch can abdicate

[groenendaelfic]

There are two unpopular Young Royals hills I’m willing to die on.

One is that Wilhelm is a prince and a minor, he can’t abdicate from shit. Not formally and not legally. Not yet and not for a while.

The other is that Wille will never be able to live in a normal apartment building, be it as Crown Prince or after having given up his titles.

[nebbyy]

Hi! I'm not sure if you are currently taking requests, so feel free to ignore mine if you aren't! If you are taking them, however, would you please write something for King Baldwin IV overhearing reader sing and falling further in love with her because of her soft and sweet voice? Upon realizing that he's there, she becomes extremely flustered and apologizes for disrupting his peace and quiet. Thank you!

King Baldwin IV x reader - Sweetest of melodies

A/N: omg it’s been so long since I’ve received a request! I can’t lie, Baldwin is my supreme comfort character, I think I’ll never stop writing fro him because it gives me sooo much joy😩😩😩 I personally like to think of this piece as taking place a few months after Baldwin’s and reader’s wedding, so it could be considered a sequel for my first fic ever. Also, the song mentioned in this piece is a real song from the 12th century called "Can vei la lauzeta" (in English,"When I see the lark") by Bernart de Ventadorn, and the painting is "Lovers in a garden" by Charles Edward Perugini!!

Oh btw!! I’m working on a long ass series about him, based off of a prompt by @phantomsghoulette  which I absolutely LOVED. Sooo all the KoH fans stay tuned for future updates🤭

Warning: nothing really, just pure fluff. Maybe you could say that religious innuendos could be something triggering for some people but I don’t know. There might be ONE, SLIGHTLY spicy mention but only if you squint really really hard. Also, keep in mind that the historical accuracy in my fics is rather relative, I try to add some details here and there but I don’t have the knowledge (nor the skills) to write a piece 100% accurate to the real history. Also, reader’s gender is female and uses she/her pronouns!!

Word count: 2918

Someone would say Baldwin's patience could already be put to test by only his illness, which she ruthlessly does not grant him a moment's respite, the eternal enemy of his body and his spirit. But no, to this perpetual torment of his had to be added the perilous duties of a king. And it was certainly not governing his people and lands that sucked what little energy he had left; this duty of his, given by his father and willed by divine design, he had long since embraced.

It was the nobles, the leeches who had drained him of his lifeblood lately. It was their endless demands, the insidious words that hissed behind his back, the languid bows and sleazy gifts designed only to gain some favor from him. Looking around him, he seemed to see only vices and sinners, power-hungry beasts just waiting for his moment of weakness so they could feed on what Baldwin had under his power.

In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, experiencing for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.

In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, to experience for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.

And he dreamed of taking you with him, imagined how sweet his life would be if his only concerns were taking care of his health and you, faithful wife, sole blessing in his life battered by such burdens. How he would wish that his days would revolve around you, that his first thought in the morning would be riding by your side through the flourishing meadows, and his last thought in the evening would be caressing your face as you lie slumbering in his arms.

It would have been a blissful fate his, if only Sybilla's husband had not died at the very moment when he would have needed him most. If only his mother had not convinced him that Guido de Lusignan was a good fit for his sister and had continued to seek a new consort for her, perhaps that fate would not have been snatched from him so early. Too late to repent now, for Baldwin would have preferred to die agonizingly on his throne rather than leave power in the hands of that bumptious and arrogant lord, who was noble only in title.

And so he found himself in this sort of hellish limbo, forced into a position that should never be required of a man in his condition, but prevented by his morality from abandoning his reign, impelled by faith in God's greater plan, that his suffering should not be in vain.

And his faith always seemed to strengthen when he had a way to escape the stifling air that characterized the throne room, always packed with knights and crusaders and nobles, when he had a way to retreat to the palace gardens, one of the few verdant places in all of Jerusalem.

With slow, swaying steps, Baldwin strolled slowly among the local palm trees and flower beds from the faraway lands, those where men speak Italian and the more distant ones, those from which his fathers came. Exotic fruits mingled with those more congenial to the French, who out of nostalgia for their lands and fields did what they could to bring the seeds of these plants with them to overseas.

His mind seemed to go out, shifting his attention from the constant buzz of court demands and duties to the chirping of birds perched on the roof, to the eviction of the soft branches that shielded him from the scorching sun. He enjoyed the refreshing air that reigned in that small oasis of greens, which was able to infiltrate the fabric of his white robes, crossing the bandages that covered much of his body and finally reaching his skin, numbed by leprosy. 

To tell the truth, of that refreshing sensation little reached his damaged nerves, if not for those few points that had been spared by the merciless disease, from which departed that unusual shiver that caused him a delicate smile of relief, enjoying the refreshing breeze. Then he closed his eyes and breathed in, discovering with satisfied surprise that that light gust was also a harbinger of an intoxicating perfume, a mixture of exotic and familiar.

How funny to think of the concept of "exotic", for an Angevin born and raised in the unknown lands of the east. For him it was exotic French fruit, exotic were the green plains and heavy clothing that brought his allies from the northwest, and equally alien to the snowy mountains and forest beasts that he saw drawn in detail in his childhood books. It was these changes of perspective that stimulated his mind in a myriad of thoughts and reflections, but in a pleasurable way for him, not as exhausting as his daily duties.

His reflections on exotic and local made his mind travel, wandering until he came to a subject very close to him: Muslims and Jews, reflecting well on the landscape in front of him, recognized that he could share with them the same concepts of what is foreign and what they can claim the original belonging. And he could not but reflect on how it must have been for the first inhabitants of Jerusalem to observe the Franks who came as conquerors, and filled their gardens with such foreign plants as those pale warriors who had taken possession of their dwelling... But after all, the French soldiers who were emissaries of God’s will needed something familiar to stabilize them as they fought to reclaim the Promised Land, ut Deus voluit.

But all his brooding over these matters of conquest and submission ended up in the background in his mind, when a colorful scarlet sphere caught his attention. An exquisitely red apple seemed to tempt him from a branch just above his head, beckoning him to be picked and savored by the king, that he might lose himself in the juicy sweetness of that fruit with origins so far removed from the Holy Land. But the king's modesty prevented him from yielding to that temptation, wanting to avoid exposing the advanced state of deterioration in which his mouth was.

And in fact if that temptation had been alive it would have pale in front of something much more captivating, a sound that echoed in the most melodious distance of the song of any nightingale. Baldwin was surprised to think that he had not realized before the melody that inibriated the atmosphere around him, so taken by the tribulations of his mind that he almost missed such an intoxicating song. He did not know what he felt once he arrived in Heaven, if he had ever arrived in spite of the unjust fate in Hell that the evil Saracens wished him. He didn’t know it, but if one ever had to imagine what Heaven sounded like, that song would come to mind.

When I see the lark beating 

Its wings in joy against the rays of the sun 

That it forgets itself and lets itself fall 

Because of the sweetness that comes to its heart

She sang in Occitan, the beautiful one in the distance. The voice of his people, of his lineage, that few in the palace can pronounce after so many years of distance from their homeland in Provence. Paying more attention to the echoing song, he would not even have had to approach it to give a face to that melodic voice: he knew how to recognize his wife’s voice.

Yet it was a new context in which he saw you, new facets of you that he had not yet had a chance to observe. Your voice, sweet as honey, venerable like all your other traits, he had never heard it except in speech, when you were proclaiming orders before your subjects with the authority fit for a queen, or when you laughed at the poems and performances of the court singers, or when you whispered in Baldwin’s ears sweet words, while you lay with bodies merged between the soft silk sheets. Always spoken, but never sung.

Alas! Such great envy then overwhelms me 

Of all those whom I see rejoicing,

But though he didn’t need to approach you to recognize you, the desire to see your face exceeded any of his other needs. As if mesmerized by the sound of a siren, Baldwin was advancing towards you, with steps so slow that it seemed a hunter about to catch a deer in the woods. He wanted nothing more than to hear you sing again, that you continue to bless him with that angelic melody. What worse sin would there be than to interrupt your song, more sacred than a prayer?

His stomach filled with butterflies and turned upside down like the beasts' jugglers, his breath seemed to stop in his throat, depriving him of the breath he no longer needed, as long as he could hear you sing a moment more. And her cheeks warmed, when finally she saw you among the white lilies, more beautiful than divine salvation.

I wonder that my heart, at that moment, 

Does not melt from desire.

Baldwin wondered if you sang with him in mind, if those words of love reflected your own emotional turmoil. 

Oh, if only it were so, and your singing equalled his own words inscribed in the sonnets and poems he composed in your honor, which he himself commissioned from your favorite singers to perform at banquets, only to steal an embarrassed smile and to see the blush of your cheeks, along with the glint in your eyes.

Whether it was or not, the outcome remained the same since he was at that moment in your proximity, in the same state mixed with adoration, love and wonder at the bold gesture. But if only he had confirmation from your words...

Alas! How much I thought I knew 

About love, and how little I know, 

Because I cannot keep myself from loving 

The one from whom I will gain nothing.

"My angel, your voice sounds like heaven but your words are false." Baldwin practically saw you blow up from your session, completely taken aback by his sudden appearance, unaware that your husband has been acting as a secret public all this time. Your initial surprise quickly turns into a laugh to mask your embarrassment for being caught in a moment like this, when you thought you were alone to be able to run the streets of music with your voice.

"I beg your pardon, I thought I was alone in the gardens," your eyes met his own only for a moment, before you turned your face to try and hide the blush of your face, "it was just a silly song I heard singing to the Provençal knights. I hope I did not disrupt your walk, my love..”

He laughed softly, trying to hide his amusement from having caught you off guard. He approached you more quickly than when he did just a few moments before, but with the same phlegm that managed to inspire a feeling of safeness in you. Sitting by your side on the bare rock, he raised his bandaged hand to gently cup your face and make you turn your eyes towards him. It was only then, when you had no choice but to look at Baldwin in the face that you noticed how his eyes, the only part of his face exposed to the outside world, formed two half-moons, and you came to find that it was because of how widely he was smiling, as you lowered the veil from his face. 

He was making fun of you, you realized. With that swagger in his manner, you understood that his amusement came from your embarrassment at that silly misunderstanding. Laughing softly, he gently shook his head before bringing both hands to your face, holding it as if it were the most sacred of relics. "As much as I would love to hear you sing of your affection for me, just to hear your voice echoing in the air is the sweetest of gifts. How could you deprive me of this blessing thus far, my dear?"

You could do nothing but giggle at his sweet words, bringing your hands to his wrists to feel him closer to you. "You flatter me, my king. My voice boasts nothing more than those sweet melodies that the singers in the palace sing. Mine is only a dabble."

His gaze softened, his playful spirit addicted to your presence. He took the floor again, in a tone as soft as cotton, "At least this once, my queen, allow me to disagree with your words. My life may be short and my reality small, but never have I heard such an angelic voice, singing such sweet melodies. And God may not yet have granted me the ability to predict the future, but in my heart I know well that never will any singer be able to hold a candle to your beautiful voice, never will any song be able to express the same feeling of ecstasy.

"You, my angel, have managed to make a simple ballad an absolute work of art through your voice. I think I should take you with me into battle next time, for with your mere voice you could addict Saladin and his entire army.

"And seeing you here, angelic and perfect like the lilies that surround you, singing so softly that it would make any bird jealous, that I realize that whatever toil, whatever challenges God has stored up for me, and all those that still await me in my life, are worth it, if at the end of each of them there is you, voice of an angel, to hold a place for me in your arms of heaven." 

You were sure you were on the verge of crying a flood of tears, the result of pure emotion at his sweet words. It was not new to you that Baldwin worshipped you as much as the God to whom his kingdom was consecrated, from the first moment he got to hear your voice and admire your face, and you knew at once that he had become yours, body and soul. But it was new to you to see him like that, completely entranced by your simple being-it was something new. A wonderful newness that made you feel like the most desired of women on this earth.

Taken by a rush of boldness, you practically jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck; you ended up on top of him, with his hands around your hips. You both laughed, like two little boys frolicking in the gardens. And you left a kiss on his left cheek, then on the bridge of his nose. A kiss again on his forehead, and then down on the side of his lips. When you were about to give him another kiss, just where he most yearned for your lips, against his, you stopped a few inches away, with a wide smile, before speaking again, "If so little is enough to make your happiness, then I will sing to you every day, whenever you ask. Let me be your nightingale, your morning song and your lullaby all at once!"

"I couldn't wish for anything else, my dear. Now, however, I beg you, sing one more melody for me, before my duties drag me back to the palace, and I shall consider myself a blessed man."

"With great pleasure, my love." Your voice was now little more than a whisper. With a languid movement, Baldwin moved his body to rest his head on your lap, and you eagerly greeted him. After slightly moving the hood that veiled his head, so that you could play with his golden locks, you began to sing a new melody, one that this time spoke of reciprocated love, of the joy of being able to hold your loved one in your arms. But the words you sang barely reached Baldwin before his sky-colored eyes closed softly, his mind giving him at least a moment's despite from his perilous life. You continued to sing, caressing his face, which from day to day appeared more and more mutilated by his disease, singing the sweetest of melodies so as to prolong this idyll in which you and your husband found yourselves in. 

For with you Baldwin had a way of putting the crown aside, and being nothing more than a foolish young man in love, whose only duty was to love you, to love you with all the love that an angel like you deserved.

@sweetworkoffiction hope you like it <3

[miryum]

Sleepless in Monaco (Charles Leclerc x Reader) royal!AU

Hi! This is my first F1 fic so I hope you guys enjoy. I worked really hard on this and am pretty proud of it!

Warnings: Swearing, implications of sex, insomnia, nightmares, death, parents in the military, and any others I missed

Word Count: 10.4k

Disclaimer: I know nothing of how the monarchy works. Take my words about the inner monarchy with a grain of salt. I took the British monarchy and twisted it to fit my needs for this work of fiction, so all of this is highly unrealistic. For example, an heir cannot abdicate before the monarch’s death, but for the sake of this fic, in Monaco, they can. No other country has as strict coronations for their monarchs as Britain does, and even there it’s usually months after a monarch is dead, but I wanted to speed things up! 

Also, all of these people are exactly that- their own person and I am simply using their names and faces for a story. 

Enjoy!

Countless studies showed that sleep was necessary and the more you got, the better off you were. Still, you didn’t like going to sleep. It felt needlessly unproductive. The nights were bouts of insomnia, and if you were allowed to sleep, it was always riddled with nightmares. 

The most frequent nightmare started off in a meadow of dead flowers. It lulled you into a false sense of security, although being surrounded by death left worried butterflies in your gut. It was then followed by falling. You weren’t sure what you fell into, but all you knew is that it must be bottomless. As the helplessness and impending doom reached a climax, you woke up. 

As a child you could always run to your parents, but now, as an adult, you had no one to run to. You were alone. 

Tonight was like every other. You had trouble going to sleep, and when you finally did, you fell. You fell into the bottomless pit surrounded by dead flowers. And then you woke. The clock read only 1:44. As if on cue, the phone rang. It was your burner phone and the number was easily recognizable. 

“Hey Arthur,” you ran a hand over your tired eyes.

He asked immediately, “did I wake you?”  

“You know me; I’m never asleep.”

“Ah yes,” the youngest Leclerc brother clicked his tongue. “We share the same crazy sleep schedule.”

“The one thing that brought us together.” It was true, of course. Your nights in the castle had been just as sleepless as ever, and it was one night when you were roaming the halls that you bumped into the small prince. You had dropped into a messy curtsy (you were still learning how- you were only five at the time) but Arthur had laughed and said whoever was up at that time of night didn’t need to bow to him. It had then become a tradition. Whenever one of you couldn’t sleep, they would find the other and the night would usually end passed out in front of a blaring TV screen with dripping bodies from a rendezvous at the indoor castle pool. Alas, as the two of you got older and you moved out of the castle for school, your late-night meetings turned to late-night phone calls. 

“Did you ever go to sleep?” You ask. “You sound wide awake.” 

“No, I did not,” Arthur drew out his words, awaiting your reprimanding. You were too tired to do so, however, and just rolled your eyes. “Hey, you’re on summer break, right?” He switched the subject, “I have a proposition for you.”

You groaned. “What is it? Do you have another girl I need to chase away?” 

“Carla and I are going strong, thank you very much,” Arthur said. You could feel his drama through the phone. 

“Then what is it?” Arthur stalled and a sinking feeling pulled over you. “Arthur,” you demanded. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong!” He said quickly before pausing and letting the next words coat over you. “Lorenzo just abdicated the throne.” 

“What?!” You worried you had woken your neighbours up, but the shock was too strong that you couldn’t refrain from yelling. “Why?!”

“He was fed up,” Arthur simply said. “He didn’t want to be a part of this life.”

“But Charles…” You couldn’t imagine what he was going through. His life had just been upended. He was always content with being second. Content with being a prince without having the responsibility of the throne on his shoulders. Now he had to toughen up and prepare to rule after his father. Unless he wanted to leave the throne to Arthur, and you knew he could never do that to his younger brother, Charles was stuck. “Why are you telling me this?” 

“I want you to come back to Monaco,” he said. 

“Why?” 

“I think it would be really helpful for Charles and I to have you around again,” Arthur explained. “You were always such a good friend and were able to handle and control our craziness. Charles could really use an anchor such as you. I could get a position on my staff so you would have income, but-”

“You don’t need to convince me,” you smiled softly. “I’ll always come back.” 

“To Monaco or to the Leclerc’s?” Arthur teased you. 

“Whichever needs me first,” you laughed. 

“Fantastic.” Arthur was giddy at the prospect of seeing his best friend again. “The plane is already at your airport.” 

“What?” You jumped out of bed and searched for your suitcase. “What if I had said no?” 

“Come on, Y/n. It’s impossible for you to say no.”

**

As it turns out, the poor pilot had been waiting for over two hours, just at the prospect that a random girl might say yes to the prince’s pleas. You had apologised profusely to him before cracking open a book as you were flown to Monaco. 

After you landed, you were shuttled to the castle in a black van that bore the flag of Monaco. The few pedestrians that were out in the early morning gawked at it, wondering what a member of the royal family was doing out this early, but you simply shielded away from the tinted windows. They would hear the news soon enough.

You had just opened your car door and were stepping onto the gravel driveway when Arthur burst out of the castle doors and greeted you with a tight hug. 

“Geez, lemme get out of the car first!” But nonetheless, you squeezed him back. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s been too long,” he agreed. “You won’t believe all the shit that’s been happening.”

“I haven’t read any tabloids just so I could hear all the gossip from you,” you said, laughing. 

“Good, because they’ve all fucked the story up.” Arthur didn’t laugh along. You frowned slightly and took your luggage from the valet. It must be serious.

Arthur walked you inside, taking your bags like the gentleman he was. He explained, “I’ll get you all caught up later, but I need to go talk to Lorenzo quickly. Charles is out exercising in the gardens. He’ll want to see you.”

“Do I have to act differently around him?” You ask, “is there any strict protocol when talking to the next-in-line?”

Arthur looked at you, face scrunched in bemusement. “It’s not like he’s grown a tail, Y/n. It’s just Charles. And you never acted differently around Lorenzo than you did I or Charles.”

“True,” you conceded.

You and Arthur parted ways and you marvelled at how quickly the layout of the castle came back to you. It had been so long since you were last here, but you remembered it like yesterday. 

Your feet took you to the gardens, and like always, you were blown away at the serenity of it all. Rows of bushes and hedges of all different types of flowers and plants spun out around you, twisting and weaving like a dancer as far as the eye could see. You knew that at the centre of it all was a magnificent fountain and on the outskirts were rows of apple trees. Your favourite spot was a weeping willow next to a small pond that was fed by a brook. You remembered countless hours spent on a tire swing your dad had hooked up, playing and laughing with the princes. 

A wistful melancholy grew over you, but instead of wallowing in the sadness of the past, you decided to rejoice in its happiness.

But you couldn’t deny that you had missed Monaco. And it’s people.

Speaking of which, a figure was making their way through the garden. You recognised the silhouette instantly. “Charles!” you yelled. 

The running figure stopped for a moment, staring at you, before starting up again, spriting your way. “Y/n!” It was clear he had been on a run, wearing black shorts and an athletic white t-shirt. Working out was a way Charles relieved stress, and you had no doubt that he was under a lot of stress right now. Charles swept you up in a monstrous hug, clinging to you like a lifeboat on stormy water. Your feet dangled in the air for a moment before he gently set you down. But the hug didn’t stop. His head was buried into the crook of your neck. “I missed you so much,” he whispered and his breath sent goosebumps along your skin. 

“I missed you too, Charlie.” Charles’ heart jumped at the childhood nickname. “Arthur called me and told me what happened.” 

“Please don’t talk about it,” Charles muttered. 

“Okay,” you hummed, just letting the poor boy embrace you. After a moment, you realised that the hug had exceeded the socially acceptable time for friends and cleared your throat. “Okay, sweaty-pants, you’re gross. Get off of me.” You pulled away and patted his chest. 

“Why’d you come back? I thought you were off at school.” Charles looked at you with puppy-dog eyes. It made you melt. 

“It’s summer break,” you shrugged. 

“So you didn’t come back for me?” Charles pouted, even though both of you knew the real answer. 

“Nah, I don’t care about you at all.” You shook your head. “I just came back for your brother.” 

“Which one?!” Charles asked you as you stepped away. You laughed loudly and started walking back to the palace. “Which one?!” Charles shrieked, running after you. 

**

“Your Majesties,” you cursitied lowly in front of Hervé and Pascale Leclerc. 

Pascale rolled her eyes from her throne and smiled softly. “Y/n, please stop with the formalities. It’s a pleasure to have you back with us in Monaco.” Per tradition, you were thanking the King and Queen of Monaco for welcoming you back into the country. Charles and Arthur stood off to the side, Lorenzo nowhere to be found.

“And how are your Majesties faring?” you asked politely. 

“Everything will turn out wonderfully,” Pascale said, although you knew you and her would be talking long into the night about the events that had transpired. “Are you staying with your brother, my dear?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “He recently bought a new home with his family and I don’t want to intrude.”

“Well then, you must stay with us!” Pascale beamed. “Did neither of my sons extend the invitation?”

“No, your Highness, they did not.” You grinned, knowing full well what was to come. 

“Boys!” Pascale glared at her two youngest who cowered away from their mother’s sharp gaze.

“Mama!” Arthur whined in protest.

“Y/n is always welcome to stay with us. I expect you two to be on your best behaviour.” Arthur mumbled something to Charles that you couldn’t hear. The crown prince blushed and pushed Arthur away. “Isn’t that right, dear?” Pascale turned to her husband.

The king smiled kindly at you and whispered hoarsely, “always a pleasure to see you, sweetheart.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my King.” You bowed your head in acknowledgment and reverence. It was well known that King Hervé’s health had been diminishing the past few years. As his age increased, his intellect and memory decreased. Though whatever his conditions, you still treasured childhood memories of him laughing at your father’s jokes, picking you up to dance at royal balls, or, if time allowed it, coming to play with you and the princes.

“And I don’t want you working at all while you’re here,” Queen Pascale wagged her finger at you playfully. “You are on vacation. Don’t let Arthur rope you into being an aide.”

“I won’t, your Highness,” you snuck a glance at Arthur but instead locked eyes with Charles. He winked at you and you knew that someway or another he would rope you into some dirty work.

“How long are you staying?” King Hervé asked and you snapped back to him. 

“I’m not entirely sure,” you admitted. “School starts in September, but I could always postpone it for a semester.”

Charles cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Chérie, did you know that the castle could easily employ anyone of any talent and prestige? You must remember our tutor?” 

“Charles, what are you suggesting?” Pascale lifted an eyebrow. 

“All I’m saying,” Charles tried to look as innocent as possible. “Is that we haven’t seen Y/n for a while. If she wanted to, we could simply bring her schooling here. I’m sure her university would love it if they had an international student studying under the royal family.” 

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what the boy was doing. “We’ll talk about it later,” Pascale assured him. “Y/n, come with me,” she smiled softly. “I’ll walk you to your room. As much as I love my boys, I can’t wait for a little girl time.” 

She stood and glided down the steps. She held her arm out to you and you looped yours through it. “And may I just say,” you added, “I love your outfit.” She was wearing a light purple pantsuit with a skirt flaring out from the waist. 

“Thank you so much, dear! I saw this dress the other day and it reminded me of you; you must try it.”

“Of course.” You and the Queen stayed in frequent contract, her sending you photos of cute outfits (she had sent you a picture of an adorable blouse last weekend) and updates of the boys (you were surprised she wasn’t the one to call you with the news of Lorenzo’s abdication) and you sent her memes and cute videos of pets you found on the Internet. 

You were sure that if the princes or the Queen’s private secretary found out that you were constantly communicating, the former would be freaked out and shocked and the latter would be aghast. It was very un-queen-like to be texting pictures of baby ducks to a girl that was half her age. And what son wants their mother to be chatting with their friend?

Once you and the Queen left the throne room, you immediately asked, “how are things going? No one’s told me the whole story.”

Pascal sighed heavily, clearly burdened with things beyond her control. “I’ve seen it coming for a long time. Lorenzo has waged this battle for years within his mind, weighing the pros and cons of the situation.”

“I never knew him to be unhappy,” you said.

“That’s because no one ever saw him,” Pascale shrugged. “He was always hidden away, studying to be king. He never had a true childhood. Everything he did was scrutinised as people picked apart their future leader. He was only a child. He never wanted to let people down, but I believe the breaking point was last year when Hervé got terribly sick.” 

You had heard about that. Arthur had called you in a frenzy, worrying himself into a spiral that you calmed him down from while you were miles away. Charles had called you much later that night and you two had engaged in quiet conversation about the affair. 

“Lorenzo realised the full magnitude of the situation,” Pascale continued. “And he didn’t want it.” She simply stated the facts, knowing that Lorenzo was the only one who could explain the reasons behind his actions. “He called the whole family into the sitting room last night and informed us of his decision. It was released to the public this morning. Poor Fernando and Nico stayed up all night composing the perfect speech,” she said, referring to the palace communication advisors.

“And Charles?” you asked.

Pascale huffed and shook her head. “The boy is stupid,” she said bluntly. “He won’t take anyone’s advice and is pushing people away so he can cope on his own. That’s why Arthur brought you in.” She glanced at you, smirking slightly.

“I have no idea what you mean,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, come off it, dearie.” Pascale rolled her eyes. “We both know my son has a sweet spot for you. Do you remember when you were eight and Charles was having a tantrum over the tiniest of thing? He wouldn’t come down for dinner, but when you went up to his room and talked to him, he came right down after you, trailing at your heels like a lost puppy?”

You shook your head and ignored the blush coming to your cheeks. The Queen didn’t miss it. “All I’m saying,” she declared as you reached your temporary room (which happened to be right next to Charles and Arthur’s), “is that although your Arthur’s best friend, my middle son has taken quite a liking to you over the years.” She turned on her heel, leaving you to your thoughts. Over her shoulder, Queen Pascale called to you, “food for thought,” before disappearing around a corner.

**

“Charles! Come on!” Arthur was swimming laps in the lake on a blazing summer day. You waded next to him, trying to get used to the colder water. Lorenzo was taking a break from his studies and lounging on an inflatable tube. 

“I’m coming! Give me a second!” A thirteen year old Charles was still tugging off his socks. “Oh, I forgot my swimsuit!” 

“Dude, how?” Lorenzo laughed. His sunglasses sat comfortably on his face as he relaxed. “We’re swimming. You need a swim-suit.”

“I don’t know, this was an impulse decision!” Charles was right; during breakfast you’d off-handedly proposed the idea and it was readily accepted. 

“Just use your underwear.” Arthur shrugged. 

“Oh my gosh look at this little crab!” You gasped and held up your hands. A small crab danced its way over your cupped hands. 

Charles shook his head wildly. “No! I’m not going to strip down to my underwear!” 

“Charlie,” you glanced at him before turning your attention back to the crab. “You would be showing the same amount of skin as if you had your swimsuit. It’s fine!”

“But,” he hesitated. “I don’t know, it just seems so much more intimate.” 

“We’ve all seen each other naked,” Arthur pointed out. 

“We were six years old!” Charles blushed furiously.

“Then leave your shirt on,” you said. “But come in the water. It wouldn’t be any fun with you staying on the shore.” After a second thought, you added, “Please, Charles?” You gave him a look you knew he couldn’t resist. You had the boys wrapped around your finger. 

“Fine,” Charles smiled as your grin grew at his response. He could never stand to see you sad, especially if it was his doing. “But when we get out, I am stealing an extra towel.”

When the four of you were finished swimming, Charles stole Arthur’s towel and the latter dripped water all over the castle carpets. The cleaning crew was not happy. 

**

“Hey, Charles?” You knocked on his door softly. “Can I come in?” 

“Of course,” he replied. You opened the door to see him slouched in a chair before his desk. It was littered with papers and textbooks. Charles looked more tired than ever and you were worried that he hadn’t slept last night. Granted, you couldn’t chastise him for it. You were up worrying as well. 

“What’re you doing?” You came to stand behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, peering at the documents splayed before him.

Charles leaned into your touch, his heart fluttering. He had missed you so much. He wasn’t about to derive himself of your comfort. “I’ve been trying to catch up on the years of studying Lorenzo had. Turns out there’s books on foreign policy and economics he had decades to read. I only have a couple months.” 

“What about your father?” you asked, “He’s doing well, no?” 

Charles tilted his head back to look at you and lifted a brow. “Come on, Y/n. You’re not naive. Maman knows she’ll have to plan his funeral soon. I only thought I would be watching my brother pledge himself to Monaco- not me.” 

“I’m so sorry.” You hugged him the best you could in your position. “I know that I can’t help you much, but I want you to know I’m here for you.” 

“That’s all I ever need.” Charles was worried you hadn’t heard him when you sat down next to him and pulled the books towards you, intent on helping him in any way you could. He knew that with his eventual coronation (god, that was a terrifying thing to think about. How did Lorenzo ever keep his cool?) the kingdom would pressure him to find a wife and carry on the Leclerc bloodline. He wasn’t forced to marry someone with status, just so long as the person could handle the public eye and the inevitable scrutiny. He wanted to form a connection with the woman and have the most normal relationship he possibly could.

“Why do you have to learn how to start a revolution?” You flipped through one of the textbook pages. “Wouldn’t you need to know how to quell one? This is so confusing.” You slam the book shut, bored after only three seconds. How could Charles have stayed up all night doing this? “Okay, what is something productive, yet fun?” 

“Do you want to listen to a meeting about military strategies?” Charles suggested. “Dad wants me to start sitting in on meetings of state to make up for the lost years.”

“No,” was your immediate reply. “As much as I love you, Charles, that sounds like the most boring thing in the world.”

“It’s what I’ll be doing the rest of my life,” Charles grumbled. 

“And Arthur and I will be with you every step of the way.” You baulked at the lifelong oath you had just promised. But you couldn’t take your words back now. Charles needed you to be his rock, and what good were you if you yourself were slipping under the tide? While Charles was drowning in the sea of uncertainty and pressure, you were drowning in the sea of hopelessness and love. “Do you feel bitter about it?” you asked quietly, wanting to change the subject but also know the truth. “Do you resent Lorenzo for what he did?”

“I want to,” Charles admitted. “I want to force him to take the crown back. I want him to get his ass back here and sit on the throne. I want to hate him. But I can’t. Because I get it. I understand what he’s feeling. He was already under the dissection of the press and public. Now it’s ten-fold. He didn’t do it to get away from the public eye, because let’s be honest, none of us will ever be able to truly escape. He’s doing it to be his own person. Lorenzo is taking the chance I wish I had.” He chuckled sourly, “Lucky bastard.”

“And I know you giving the throne to Arthur is out of the question,” you said. 

“Of course,” Charles nodded along solemnly. “I would never do that.” 

“Lorenzo did,” you whispered, giving him the tiniest of shrugs and smiles. 

He shook his head. “No, it’s out of the question, Y/n.” 

“I know.” You never wanted any of this for any of the Leclerc boys. They were too innocent and sweet to be criticised at any turn. “What are you going to do?” 

For as long as you had known him, Charles had never looked so scared. “My best.”

**

The dining room was filled with the quiet scraps of silverware on china. It was almost quiet enough that you could hear reporters shouting from outside. Luckily the castle walls were strong enough to block them out. It had been an awkwardly stressful dinner, each second passing adding to the seconds it was already too late to say something. King Hervé and Queen Pascale sat at the head with Lorenzo and Charles to their right. You and Arthur sat across from the older boys. Rows of empty seats followed after you. You remembered when you and your family were invited for dinner along with other military personalities. The long table was filled with chatter and buzz, the King and Queen looking lovingly down at their employees and subjects. You always sat by Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur, laughing away at whatever stupid joke was being said. 

It was a stark contrast to what you were experiencing now. 

You had expected some hostility radiating from either Charles or Lorenzo, but both were filled only with sadness. Arthur, always needing to be on the move, was tapping his foot up and down and up and down and up and down until you shot him a look. Queen Pascale was looking lonely and King Hervé sat blissfully unaware of the matters around him. 

You were just about to excuse yourself when the King set his knife and fork down and stood. “Y/n, sweetheart, can you come help me?”

Your eyes dashed towards Pascale to make sure you weren’t the only one who heard him. Pascale was confused, but ushered you to his side. You obeyed, standing quickly and going to support him.

“Come along,” he led you out of the room and to a short hallway. “May I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” you said. 

“Can you look after Charles?” 

The King’s question shocked you. “Of course, your Majesty.” 

“No, Y/n.” The King stopped and faced you, looking you in the eye. You immediately looked to the ground, then to the wall behind him and finally back to him, all while mustering up the courage to meet his headstrong gaze. You felt exposed as the monarch of your country stared you down. “Take care of him, just as he takes care of you. You and Arthur are brilliant friends, but we both know your relationship with Charles is deeper than friendship.”

“Your Majesty,” you cut him off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My relationship with Charles is the same as my relationship with Arthur.”

“If you believe that, dear, then you may need to do some soul searching.” The King had an odd twinkle in his eye, one that could only be held by a person who had learned the lessons of the world. “I’m asking you for this favour. I don’t have a long time left on this Earth. I need to know my son’s in good hands. With this power and expectations unexpectedly thrust upon him, he’ll need someone he can come to with his worries and troubles. Someone he can be himself around. You were always that person.”

“King Hervé, I’ll try my best, but eventually we’ll need to go our separate ways,” you said, trying to gently show the king the inevitable truth. “I want to continue school and Charles will have to get married. His wife will take on the responsibilities of his confidant.” You didn’t add that you would be leaving Monaco the moment Charles showed romantic interest in someone.

The King hummed and started walking once again. You led him to a wooden door that entered his chambers. “The Queen of Monaco would get excellent schooling,” King Hervé offhandedly commented before opening his door and leaving you alone in the hallway. 

You stood there, stunned. In two days, both monarchs of Monaco had pushed you into the arms of their middle child.

King Hervé couldn’t be suggesting what you thought he was. Could he? 

**

“What did dad talk to you about, Y/n?” Arthur found you in the gardens. You were wandering aimlessly and ended up at the weeping willow that was cemented in so many of your memories.

“He asked me to look after Charles.” You sat down, legs folding under you like a stack of cards. Arthur plopped down next to you. 

“Well, that’s easy, right? Just stick around a while more and he’ll be fine. Your job is literally to give him hugs.” Arthur laughed.

“Arthur, does Charles like me?” You asked suddenly, twisting your body to look at the boy. He sat back on his hands, getting comfortable under the cool summer air.

“What do you mean? You're his best friend. Other than me, of course,” he grinned at his last words. “And Lorenzo. So you’re maybe third or fourth on the list. After the dog. You’re definitely after the dog.”

You slugged him in the arm, matching his smirk, saying, “but seriously though, both your mum and dad hinted that Charles liked me. In a… more than friendship way.” You felt as if you were back in primary school by using that phrase.

Arthur sighed heavily, “oh god, Y/n.” He scratched his neck. “This isn’t my confession to make.” 

“So he does like me?!” you cried out. 

“But you like him back, right?” Arthur shrugged. “It was so obvious. Our entire childhood, you and him were always stuck together. You and I hung out too, but he was always the one you ran to when you were hurt or sad. I was the third-wheel and Lorenzo, when he had time, was the fourth. Wait-” he paused, realising his analogy didn’t work out. “You and I hung out at night, but I’m confident that if Charles was up at the same time, you would’ve roped him into our adventures. There was this… connection that neither Lorenzo or I could achieve with you. A small part of you was only for him and vise-versa. You should’ve heard the things he said about you when you were gone. It was always, ‘when’s Y/n coming back?’ and ‘I miss Y/n’. Honestly, it was annoying.” He shot you an exaggerated side-eye. You chuckled quietly, shaking your head. “Don’t get me wrong,” he continued. “I’m not jealous. You and I had many special memories without my ugly older brother. Remember that one time where in the middle of night we went bowling and practically woke up the entire castle?!” 

You joined him in laughing hysterically. You remembered, “my parents were so mad!” 

“But my dad insisted we finish the round,” Arthur added on. “And then everyone else started playing as well.”

“That was a good night,” you agreed.

“My point,” Arthur brought you back to the topic at hand. “Is that you and Charles like each other and if I’m the one to make you realise your feelings, then that’s a problem. My parents clearly picked up on it and are now making sure that you and Charles get together before they’re gone.” 

You sat in thought for a moment before saying, “I never asked how you and Carla are doing.” 

The boy smiled lazily. “It’s going really well. She’s really sweet and cares about others. You’ll love her.” 

“I’m sure I will.” You nudged your arm with his. “Any girl that can put up with you is worth keeping.”

“Piss off! I have half a mind to throw you in the lake!” 

“Don’t you dare, Leclerc. I swear to god I will murder you.” 

“That’s an act of treason.” 

“Charles can pardon me.” 

“I’m sure he will.” Arthur rolled his eyes, “I’m sure he will.”

**

Three teenage princes barged into your room without so much as a knock. “Oh my god!” you cried, “What are you guys doing?!” You were laying on your bed with your computer which continued playing Rise of the Guardians. Jack Frost had just been kidnapped by the Easter Bunny. 

“Where have you been?” Arthur jumped on the bed with you and yanked the covers over him. You growled and yanked them back. “Geez,” he muttered, squirming around to get comfortable. “What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

“The blood currently exiting my body,” you retorted. 

“Ew!” Arthur jumped back and off the bed, a shiver going up his spine. “You could’ve told me that before!” 

“It’s not fucking contagious,” you said. “Unless you suddenly grew a uterus I didn’t know about.” Lorenzo laughed at your response. “What are you pricks doing here?” 

“We were going to go horseback riding,” Charles explained. “We wanted to ask you to join us, but now that’s out of the question.” 

“Oh. Well, you guys go without me,” you said. “Give Loki a sugarcube for me, will you?” When you were kids, the four of you had all named your horses together. Lorenzo's horse was Stark, Arthur called his Wanda, and you and Charles decided on the names Thor and Loki.

“But you’re not feeling well!” Charles protested, his brows furrowing. You shifted in your bed as a wave of cramps came over you. 

“I’ve done this a lot. I’ll be fine.” 

“Move over,” Charles sighed and climbed into your bed. He threw off his shoes and sweater, leaving him in an undershirt and sweatpants before pulling the covers towards him. He leaned back on your pillows and slung an arm over your shoulders. 

“What’re you watching?” Lorenzo asked, sitting on your other side with his legs crossed. 

“Rise of the Guardians,” you replied. 

“With Sandy?” Arthur shoved Lorenzo over and cuddled into the spot next to you. You pushed the computer away so they could see easier. 

Pressing play, you said, “Yeah, with Sandy. What other Rise of the Guardians do you know of?” 

The movie continued and both you and Arthur cried during Sandy’s death. Whenever your cramps were acting up or your back hurt, you would fist Charles’ shirt in your hand and try to snuggle closer to him. Charles frequently drew circles on your arm or pressed a kiss to your hair. 

Lorenzo and Arthur exchanged a look. How could you two be so dumb?

**

The field looked an awful lot like the one in the castle gardens. Some flowers wilted under the harsh sun and you made a mental note to tell Lando about it. He would be devastated to lose a plant. 

It was a serene day, but you were forgetting something. You couldn’t remember what. It gnawed at you like it was at the tip of your tongue and wanted to burst out, but something was blocking it. 

Suddenly, the ground caved out from under you and you started falling. You cried out for someone- anyone to come and save you. 

You braced for the end. For the inevitable crushing end that would end in writhing pain or the quickness of death. Which would be better?

Just as suddenly as you fell, you woke up. It was just a dream, you kept reminding yourself as you hurried out of the now scarred room. 

You didn’t want to see if Arthur was awake. If he was, you would prompt him to go to sleep. He needed it.

You weaved through the castle before stopping at a familiar painting. It used to be your favourite as a kid. A Huguenot, as it was titled. The full name was A Huguenot, on St. Bartholomew's Day, Refusing to Shield Himself from Danger by Wearing the Roman Catholic Badge painted by John Everett Millais. 

You had learned about it from your art history tutor. The Leclerc boys didn’t care for the class, but you found it oddly fascinating. When you had learned about the Huguenot it instantly captured your attention.

You remembered your tutor saying, “The painting depicts an incident occurring on St. Bartholomew’s Day, when a massacre of Protestants by Catholics took place in Paris during the Wars of Religion. The white band the woman is attempting to tie around her lover's arm was an act to shield him from harm during the coming massacre and an identifier of Roman Catholicism. A small number of Protestants escaped from the city by wearing the white armbands. 

“The young man gently pulls the armband off with the same hand with which he embraces the girl. Having to choose between religion and love, the man’s refusal of this badge would result in certain death,” the tutor concluded.

You had always loved the painting, feeling a sense of desperate longing from it.

“Y/n?” A hushed voice called to you. Charles walked up to you, still in his sleepwear. He paused and looked up at the painting. “Your favourite, huh?”

“Yeah. What’re you doing up?”

“Haven’t been sleeping well,” the boy brushed it off. “Are you still having those nightmares?”

“How do you know about that?” You were pretty sure you’d only told Arthur about those.

“I found you and Arthur one morning sleeping under a pool table. When I asked him about it he said you kept having nightmares and he was trying to help.”

“Ah,” you cracked a smile. “Yeah, they haven’t gone away.”

“Truth be told,” Charles was still admiring the painting. “I always envied you and Arthur. In the morning, Lorenzo and I would wake to some new inside joke that had transpired the previous night. I wanted to feel that close to you as well. I would try to stay awake all night so I could be part of the adventures, but I always fell asleep.” He chuckled at the memory.

“Charlie,” You gushed at his confession, leaning against him. “You and I will always be close. You don’t have to be sleep deprived for that. Arthur and I’s relationship was a purely platonic thing built on laughter and escapade. Ours was built on trust and caring. Not to mention all the mischief we got ourselves into.”

Charles laughed loudly at your words. “We once rigged the intercom to play polka music all day and night!”

“The nannies were so mad!” You snickered at the memory.

Charles hummed and fixed his sight on the painting once more. “The man is going to fight for his religion, right?”

“You remember?” You were surprised he was able to recollect the knowledge.

“Of course!” Charles smiled widely and his voice raised a couple notes. “You blabbered about it whenever we passed it in the hall. You always had to stop and stare. Why wouldn’t I remember something so important to you?” 

A warm feeling rose up in your chest. “Come on, Charlie,” You looped your arm through his and directed him away. “Let’s go watch Megamind.”

“Okay, chérie,” Charles squeezed you in a side-hug. “But I want popcorn.” 

“Stove-made?”

“Is there another kind?” 

King Hervé and Queen Pascale walked into the family room the next morning to find you splayed over Charles on the couch. Charles was drowsily awake and waved to his parents in a morning greeting. His other hand was lazily stroking your arm. 

“I’m going to give him my wedding ring tomorrow,” Pascale whispered to her husband. 

**

King Hervé died a week later. 

You woke to a sharp knocking. A housekeeper entered and said, “Miss. Y/n, I regret to inform you that King Hervé passed away last night in his sleep.” 

Your mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“King Hervé has died. Queen Pascale is requesting your presence in the sitting room.” 

Your first instinct was to ask, “how are the princes?”

“I’m not sure,” the housekeeper admitted. “Do you need assistance getting dressed?” 

“No, but thank you.” You jumped out of bed and hurried to the sitting room. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. Hervé was dead. He died. You were never going to see him again. What happened now?

You picked up the pace and soon you were running down the castle halls, still in your pyjamas. Servants in black clothing stopped as you dashed by, some even bowing at the waist. You burst into the sitting room to see the Leclercs there. Arthur was slumped on the couch, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He looked up when you came in and the tears started to fall. Lorenzo was standing by the window watching the people below already beginning to lay flowers for his father. A withered Pascale sat in a plush armchair, fingers to her lips as she hummed a sad tune. Her face was devoid of any emotion and her eyes were dry. And Charles sat hunched over, elbows to his knees as he stared a burning hole into the wall opposite him. His hands were clasped together and you could see the large ring with the royal insignia emblazoned on it. 

You slowly knelt in front of Pascale. “My Queen,” you murmured. “My deepest condolences. I know words may never be enough and they can never bring back what’s missing, but he was a wonderful man and a wonderful king. All of Monaco will miss him.” 

The Queen began to cry. “Thank you, Y/n, but I’ll be alright. He’s in the hands of God and I know he’s safe and happy. I just miss him is all.” 

“It would be wrong if you didn’t,” you tried to alleviate the pain in any way you knew how, but you knew it wouldn’t help. When your own parents had passed, you had stayed in your room for days, a blank-eyed zombie of the person you used to be. It was only when your brother came in to see you that you broke down crying. Charles and Lorenzo had held your hands during the funeral. 

You then hugged Lorenzo tightly. He let out a shuddering sigh at your embrace. You always knew the pressure on him was high, but it was as if he was finally releasing it. You knew that he would be okay eventually. 

And finally, you sat in between Arthur and Charles. “Come here,” you whispered to the former who fell onto your shoulder, crying quietly. 

“Is this how it feels?” The youngest Leclerc brother asked you in a voice so unlike his own. “Is this how it feels to lose someone you love? Why does anyone love when it hurts so much?” 

“I don’t know, Artie.” The childhood nickname slipped past your lips. “I don’t know.” 

Charles let out a shuddering breath and Arthur pulled away from you, nodding his head at you to comfort Charles. “Mon bonheur,” you wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders. “You don’t have to hide from me.” 

That’s when Charles let out a broken sob and curled himself into your lap. He buried himself into you, tears soaking through your nightwear. He sounded like a crushed man, his cries turning to a need for love. “Papa,” his voice broke. “Why does everyone have to leave?” 

“No one is leaving you, mon bonheur,” you reassured him.

“Yes, they are!” he protested, “Papa left all of us and now you’ll leave too and I… I can’t let that happen.” 

“I’m not leaving you.” You couldn’t help but smile sadly. “Artie’s been helping me think it through and I’m going to move back to Monaco. I’ve missed you guys too much to leave again.”

“Really?” Charles sounded like a lonely child. 

“Really,” you confirmed it with a nod of your head. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, as will your family because we love you.” You rested your cheek on his hair. “It’ll all be alright. This is the hardest part of it all.” All the Leclerc’s were listening in, hoping for some way to cope with the loss of their husband and father. “But it’ll get easier. One day you’ll wake up and not think about him at all. Then you’ll go to bed and realise it and feel bad, because you think you need to remember him everyday to honour him and all the happy times together. But then someone makes you laugh and you feel back to your old self for a second. Then you’ll realise it’s what he would want. He would want you to laugh and love and live. Just because someone is gone doesn’t mean you can stop living. Every once in a while you’ll see something that will remind you of him and you’ll think of a good time together. Everything will turn a shade of melancholy for a while, but you’ll see your family and they’ll lift you up again. No one leaves you. And the reason why it hurts so much, Artie,” you direct your words to him, “is because you loved him. To be human is to love and to lose. And it’s terrible. And we hate it. Losing someone is an awful thing to go through and there’s nothing that anyone can do or say that will make the pain go away. But you still have each other,” you shrug. “That seems like a pretty sweet deal.” 

“You were always the best at pep talks,” Lorenzo huffs a small laugh. “Could always make me feel better after a hard day.”

“We should employ you as our personal pep-talker,” Arthur added, wiping his nose on his sleeve. 

“How much would I get paid?” you retorted, trying to bring humour to the situation.

“As much as you need to keep you here.” Charles immersed himself in you. He loved the way you smelled, the way your skin sent shivers up his, the way your heart beated, and everything else about you. 

“Come along, boys,” Pascale stood up suddenly. “There’s a lot that needs to be done.”

The next days were a blur. You hardly remembered any of it. Pascale was in charge of planning Hervé’s funeral, and when it got too overwhelming, Arthur took over. Your hours were filled with planning the coronation. Luckily, most of it was protocol and out of your control, but swabs of fabric and long guest lists were still shoved your way. Mercifully, Lorenzo assisted you with the intricate monarchy procedures. Charles was off doing who knows what and who knows where. Some nights you would peek into his room and find him sprawled out on the bed, snoring softly. You would ease his shoes off his feet and carefully loosen his tie before sneaking out of the room.

Overnight, it was as if the castle had transformed. The flags were all drawn at half-mast, yards of black fabric covered the windows, and everyday at noon, the bells would toll endlessly. 

You weren’t allowed to walk with the royal family at the procession, but instead with the long lines of servants that came after the guards and knights. Crowds gathered in the streets to watch their beloved king parade pass in a suffocating, but ethereal and eternal coffin. You wanted to cover your ears as bells rang and rang and rang as the procession went on. 

During the funeral, Arthur brought you up to the front so you could take your rightful place among the family. Charles instantly gripped your hand. 

This wasn’t like your parents funeral, both of whom had died in combat when a stray bomb had blown their lives away. They were buried in a small military cemetery on the outskirts of Monaco where you were handed two Monégasque flags as the next-of-kin. That’s what had broken you on that day, being reminded of how your parents died. Of course, the press didn’t care, hounding after their next story of Monaco Royal Family Seen at Random Funeral or We Invade Someone’s Mourning Time to Get Pictures of our Monarchs or New Girlfriend to a Monégasque Prince Because They Were Seen Holding Hands at a Sad Event? Lorenzo and Charles had given the press a good talking-to.

King Hervé’s funeral was in a grand church where he would be buried in a stone mausoleum after the traditional prayers. Queen Pascale laid a red carnation on his coffin before it was lowered into the hauntingly beautiful mausoleum. 

Charles let out a low sigh and when you glanced over you saw him crying silently. You knew no words could help him at that moment. It was as if you could feel the sadness radiating off of him. You would take it all away if you could. Anything to help him.

Charles had the same thought during your parents’ funeral.

**

His coronation was three days later. Arthur had found a loophole in the ceremony and instead of sending you an invitation, wrote you down as his plus-one, therefore earning you a seat in the front row. You had puzzled over what to wear that day, finally settling on a red gown for the colours of Monaco. Arthur and you entered behind Lorenzo and Pascale as the Monégasque anthem played. 

“Oh my gosh,” Arthur muttered to you. “So many stuffy people in stuffy clothes.” 

You shushed him, “quiet!” Arthur gave you his signature side-eye and you wanted to burst out laughing. You tried to hold it in but a snicker got past you. Arthur let out a giggle at that. Pascale held a finger to her lips, hiding a smile of her own. 

The priest marched down the aisle and as he reached the altar, the organ stopped playing. A choir started singing, everybody stood, and Charles entered the church. 

You almost stopped breathing. 

You had never seen him look so regal. Charles was adorned by the coronation robes and crown jewels. His hair was styled to perfection and his shoes shined so brightly you could see your reflection in them. He was celestial. 

“Close your mouth,” Arthur bent over and whispered to you. “You’ll catch flies.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed. 

“Swearing in a house of God?” Arthur hissed. “Heinous.”

As Charles passed, people bowed. When Charles glided by the first row, Lorenzo and Arthur bent at the waist while you curtsied deeply. Pascale stayed upright but placed a hand over her heart. Charles climbed the steps and knelt before the priest.

The priest gave a long speech and you could practically feel Charles’ irritation rolling off of him in waves. His knees must be hurting by now. Finally, he was to recite his vows.

“Is your Majesty willing to take Oath?” the priest asked. 

“I am willing,” Charles’ voice reverberated through the hall. Something stirred in your chest. You knew he was telling the truth. 

The priest outstretched the royal sceptre towards Charles. “Will you accept the responsibilities as king for as long as you shall live?”

“I do,” Charles gripped the sceptre and held the cool metal in his palm.

“Will you solemnly swear to govern the people of Monaco and promise to execute Law, Justice, and Mercy in all your judgements?”

“I swear,” Charles repeated.

“Will you to the utmost of your power,” the priest declared, “maintain the Laws of God and its true profession? Will you maintain and preserve inviolably the settlement of the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government thereof, as by law established in Monaco? Will you preserve all such rights and privileges of the people of Monaco, as by law do or shall appertain to them?” 

“I do swear by all.” 

“Will you to the utmost of your power hold true peace under your rule?” 

“I will,” 

“And you,” the priest raised his arms and addressed the church. “The people and subjects of Monaco, all who so desire, say together: ‘I swear that I will pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs and successors, according to law, so help us in the name of our country.’”

People all over Monaco joined together to say, “I swear that I will pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs,” Arthur nudged your arm at that and you pinched him. “And successors, according to law, so help us in the name of our country.” Charles bowed his head as he listened to his people.

“Do the people of Monaco accept Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc to be crowned as their king?”

“We do,” 

“Will the princes and heirs of Monaco please join us at the altar?” Lorenzo and Arthur stepped out into the church aisle and Charles stood and turned around. His robe curled around his feet and the spectre gleamed in the stained glass light. He caught your eye right away and you sent him a wink, lips curling into a smile. The new King of Monaco blushed and glanced at his feet. Pascale beamed at the exchange.

“Please kneel at the feet of your King,” the priest asked of the Leclerc boys. They did as they were told. Charles outstretched his hand which wore the royal ring. “Do you swear to aid your King in any way possible? Do you swear, in case of harm, to assume the position of monarch of Monaco until your King is married in law and love?” Charles’ swallowed and his stare remained firmly on the ground. 

“We swear.” They both took turns grasping Charles’ hand and gently placing a kiss on the ring. 

“You may return to your seats,” the priest allowed. 

Arthur stood back next to you and said, “My mouth tastes like metal.”

“Sucks to be you.” 

The priest concluded, “Let us rejoice in our new sovereign king of Monaco as he pledges to serve and protect us all.” The priest turned and lifted the Crown of Monaco from an altarboy. “Let Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc be crowned as the King of Monaco.” And he placed the Monégasque royal crown on Charles’ head. 

Charles embraced the thunderous applause of his people. A swelling pride erupted in your chest. You had never been so elated.

“Then let this joyous day be celebrated across the land in the eyes of God,” the priest called out loudly and Charles stepped down the altar stairs and into the role of King. 

**

“Where’s Lorenzo?” 

“I don’t wanna know.” 

“You don’t think…” 

“Oh, I know! I saw him going off with a daughter of a duke a couple minutes ago.” 

“Ew!” You groaned, shaking your head furiously, knowing the next time you saw Lorenzo, you wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye. 

“What do you expect?” Charles whispered in your ear, body pressed up against yours. “This is Arthur’s seventeenth birthday. We’re all legal now.” 

“And are you going to exploit your legality?” You smirked, tilting up to look at him. 

Charles hummed lowly and you could feel the vibration in his chest. “Maybe. Are you?” 

You thought about your next words. You were sure he could feel your heart; it was banging like a drum, erupting with butterflies, and fluttering with worries. If you responded with a nod, where could it take you? If you shook your head, would you spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been? 

And did you want this? 

Did you want Charles? 

… Did you even like Charles? 

Charles picked up on your hesitancy and said quietly, “there’s absolutely no pressure, but I want you to know that my room is always open to you.” You glanced at him, noting the double entendre, before letting your eyes rest comfortably back on his chest. It was emblazoned with medals and sashes, akin to his brothers. 

You gave him a single nod- one that only he could see. A secret between the two of you. In response, Charles pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

That night, you paced outside his room for quite some time. Fear eventually overcame you and you hurried back to your room. You couldn’t go in. Charles sat awake, waiting all night with the hope that you would come to him. 

The next weekend you left for college. You didn’t see him again until Lorenzo’s abdication, but it was as you never left.

**

“May I have this dance?” You turned to see Charles standing behind you, smiling cockily. He had changed out of his robe for a much more modern black tuxedo, paired with a red pocket square. 

“Of course, my King.” Charles’ eyes darkened at your response and he raised a brow. “But are you sure you want your first dance to be with me?” 

“Who else would I dance with?” Charles wondered. “I’ve already danced with my mother. I want the next to be with you.” 

You let the king sweep you out onto the dance floor, letting the years of training take hold of you. Effortlessly, the two of you were able to float along and keep up conversation. 

You asked, “how do you feel?” 

Charles shrugged. “No different from when I woke up. Must I say, you are looking radiant today.” 

You dipped your head to hide your smile. “Thank you. I can’t remember the last time I got dressed up.” 

Charles hummed, but didn’t say anything. After a moment, he said, “it was just procedure, you know that, right?” 

“What do you mean?” Charles spun you around in a small circle before bringing you back to him.

“They still have that stupid line in the coronation vows. ‘Pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs and successors.’” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if I have heirs or not. They still have Arthur as next in line.” 

You frowned. “I thought you wanted a family?”

“I do,” Charles stopped dancing. Your hand rested on his shoulder and his gripped your waist. Your other hands were entwined intimately. If he could, Charles would stay like this forever. No one else; just you and him. That’s all he ever needed. “I think I’ve made that clear.” 

“Then what’s stopping you?” You wanted to step away from him. You needed to put some distance between the two of you, but you couldn’t. You could never leave him. It was like a magnetic force connected the two of you. No matter how long you were apart, you would always end up back in each other's arms. 

“Fear,” Charles admitted. “I couldn’t handle rejection. It would break me. All my life I’ve known it’s her. Somewhere deep inside of me could tell. I can’t be away from her. I need to see her and make sure she’s safe. I need to hold her and love her. Whenever we’re apart it tears me up inside. If she were ever to refuse me I don’t know how I would go on. She’s my other half. My lasting pair. Ma chérie.” 

People were stopping and staring at the King and you. Lorenzo poked at his mother who stifled a gasp. 

Arthur asked, “why aren’t they dancing?”

“I don’t know,” Lorenzo sounded panicked. “The press are going to have a field day.” 

“Don’t you boys see?” Pascale was grinning. “They’re in love and finally realising it. Who cares about the press? This is about them.” 

“You were always one for romance, mama,” Arthur said. 

“Charlie,” you said. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

Charles beamed and did as he was told. You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck. One of his hands cupped your cheek while the other settled on the small of your back, wanting you closer still. It was a tender kiss, and long overdue. It was like kissing was created just for the two of you; just so you could experience each other. If deities were real, you were sure Aphrodite had smiled down from the heavens and chosen you and Charles.

When you broke apart and the cameras continued flashing, Charles said, “ma chérie, I cannot tell you how long I’ve waited for that.”

“I hope you weren’t disappointed?” 

“With you? Never.” 

**

It was a quiet morning. You had woken up a few minutes ago but decided to stay in your husband’s warm embrace. Charles’ arm was wrapped tightly around your torso and you could feel his breath on your bare shoulder.

Charles shifted softly and groaned, “good morning.” You would never get used to his morning voice.

“I’ll never get used to your morning voice.” You rolled over to greet him. Charles smiled lazily and stroked your cheek lovingly. 

“Hello my beautiful Queen.”

“Hello my handsome King. Did you sleep well?”

“With what little sleep I got, I slept wonderfully.” He winked, referring to last night’s activities.

“What do you have planned for today?” you asked while reaching for his hand. Charles gladly gave it to you and interlaced your fingers.

“Just a couple of meetings with the Board. Then I’ll have the rest of the day to spend with you and Liza.”

“That’s nice. She’s been wanting to show you her new tricks on Danvers.” You referred to your daughter’s horse.

“She’s going to surpass me someday.” Charles jokingly shook his head. 

“Hate to break it to you, but she already has, old man,” you teased. 

Charles gaped at your words. “Old man?! If that’s true, then you’re calling yourself an old woman.” 

“I’m not an old woman,” you explained. “I just married an old man. I’m in it for the money.” 

Charles laughed loudly. “Well, I hope you’re happy with your old man, ma chérie, because he’s not ever letting you go.” 

“I’m very happy with him.” You grinned and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. 

Before Charles could chase after you with the complaint of wanting a real kiss, the door to your bedroom banged open. 

“Maman! Papa!” A little voice called out. 

“Is everyone decent?” Arthur yelled out from around the corner. He stuck his head in the room, eyes firmly closed. “‘Cause I still have the last image burned into my retinas.” 

“You only saw my butt!” Charles scoffed.

“It was plenty,” Arthur drew out the last word. He shuddered from the memory. 

Eliza jumped on the bed and into Charles’ arms. “Uncle Artie and Grammy are gonna take me to London!” 

“What?” You sat up and quickly grabbed Charles’ discared shirt that still lay on the floor from last night. Buttoning it up, you demanded, “Arthur, come here.” 

Arthur’s face morphed into one of fear. “Mama was the one that suggested it!” he defended, “and Liza promised not to tell.” 

“That’s worse,” you pointed out. 

“Do you have to work today, Papa?” Liza asked Charles.

“Only a little in the morning,” Charles said, settling her on his lap. “Then I’m all yours in the afternoon.” 

“Can we go swimming?” Eliza asked. 

“Yes,” 

“And horseback riding?” 

“Of course,” 

“And can we have a tea party with Grammy and Daniel?” Liza gasped, thinking only of her grandma and favourite castle guard. Their connection had begun early on when you found Daniel playing with Eliza one evening. You had apologised profusely, but he simply scooped her up and promised it was no big deal. They had become quick friends. 

“Only if there’s donuts,” Charles bargained. 

“Only if we can have it in your room under the painting.” She pointed to A Huguenot which had presided over your room ever since you moved in with Charles.

Charles thought for a moment before sticking his hand out. “Deal.” He and his daughter shook hands.

“Liza?” You kissed her forehead and asked her, “why don’t you go play with Uncle Artie for a while until your Daddy and I can join you for breakfast?”

“Okay!” The girl happily jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. 

Arthur scampered after and yelled out in warning, “I better not hear any other cries for ‘Daddy!’” 

You rolled your eyes while Charles restrained from cursing at his brother for fear of his daughter hearing him. You leaned back into Charles’ chest and he laid his head on yours. After a moment, he whispered, “you’ve been sleeping through the night.”

“I have been.” You nodded. “I think I’ve had the perfect person to help me fall asleep.” 

“Or maybe you’re just too tired after each night.” Charles started kissing your neck, slowly starting to suck a hickey. 

You let out a soft moan and clutched his hand. “Charlie,” you murmured through gritted teeth. “Liza’s expecting us.”

“She can wait.” Charles laid you down softly on the sheets. “I love you, ma chérie.” He pressed a kiss to your collarbone.

“I love you too, mon bonheur.”

**

People in the F1 world I wanna be friends with but am too scared to message: @leclsrc @hey-kae @vinvantae @schuvries

[dmajor7th]

Renouncing the throne would not set Wilhelm free

A question asked of those in the Young Royals fandom: Are you Team Monarchy or Team Abdication?

For those who wish to see Wilhelm fulfil his birthright, the desire comes from him being able to find peace with himself and thus the role, and setting an example by living as the first openly queer monarch in Swedish Royal history. That it denies August the position also helps this argument.

For those who wish to see Wilhelm renounce the thrown, the desire comes from wishing him to be free from the shackles of unasked for expectations, and emancipated from the pressure that crushes down on his wellbeing, his romantic relationship, and his ability to live a "normal" teen and adult life.

But here's the thing: Wilhelm is marked for life. Refusing to become King, and removing himself from all royal duties and the Crown itself, will not lead him to become a "normal" person.

There is a real world, contemporary example of a prince forsaking his duties and being no freer from the media circus that haunts him—Prince Harry of the British Royal Family. The details of his conflict and departure from his royal duties are widely publicised, no less than in his own autobiography. To be sure, the pressures and scrutiny he has faced growing up are horrific—least of all the media treatment of his mother's death—and the racialised aggression towards his wife is beyond disgusting. It makes total sense that he would want to remove himself and his own family from the shit show that is being a royal in the Internet Age.

But rather than give him and his family the peaceful life he seems to crave, the media fire has only intensified. How much of this is driven my him I can't say; but the point is, making an effort to step away form his expectations has not freed him.

And so, to Wilhelm. He can chose to renounce the thrown, and he can choose not to become King, but he will always, always, be Prince Wilhelm. Unless he were to completely cut himself off from society, run away into a forest and never be seen again, he will forever be marked as a Prince.

Wille has also stated that he actually likes the monarchy. Who would he even be outside of it? He can't just get a job in a bakery or be a bus driver. What would he do? How would he live?

What I want is for Wilhelm to be able to find peace with himself and his place in the world, and based on what we've seen in season 3, I don't think it's more likely that will come to him outside of the monarchy than within it. He is a young, troubled man who needs considerable help and support, and I don't think leaving the framework he's accustomed to—with all of the resources it provides—to walk into an even greater media fire will help him.

I want Wille to be happy and I want him to be free. But moving away from his family and birthright is not, for me, the answer.

[ratsfication]

Theory: All the papas, after terzo, are following the line of succession of the swedish monarchy

It’s well known that some aspects of Terzo were inspired by the swedish king "Gustav III", not only his outfit but also his death: he was assassinated on 29 March and terzo 30 April.

Gustav was hated between the nobles, the implementation of the Union and Security Act in 1789 gave him more power and abolished many of the privileges among the nobility. In 1791-1792, a conspiracy was formed and main goal was to kill Gustav.

After you have a quick research, Gustav III successor was "Gustav IV Adolf"

Gustav IV Adolf is really similar to Copia during his cardinal era, not only his clothes but also his appearance:

Another example:

Gustav IV Adolf succeed to the throne after Gustav III assassination. Gustav was also also known as inept and a erratic leader in diplomacy and war, one of his lieutenants trigged a rebellion against him, that lead to his deposition.

His abdication occured at 29 March, he was forced to leave and was banished from the county in 1809, living a lonely life.

He died in February 7.

Charles XIII was Gustav IV Adolf successor after is abdication and we can also see some clothing influence in Papa Emeritus IV outfits.

Charles was described as dependent and easily influenced, he was indecisive and full of Health problems. His incapacity triggered a search for a suitable heir and after a long search, one of Napoleon's generals was choosen as his successor.

He died in February 5.

If Ghost decides to keep following the royal line for the new papas, we'll have Charles XIV John as inspiration.

Charles XIV was known was popular and powerful, he was also an ardent supporter of the french revolution.

This theory was made by noticing some similarities between the monarchs and the papas, following terzo's initial inspiration and i hope it makes sense

Judging by the outfits, overall, Tobias is taking victorian influences and I'm pretty sure we have more hidden influences.

[bridgeportbritt]

Willington Palace | Sage, SimDonia

Friendly chatter

Diana: Hello everyone. Thanks for joining me here today. I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here...

Spencer: I hope it's not because we're all in trouble!

The group laughs

Diana laughs dryly: Well, not exactly. But there is a serious matter that I need to speak with you all about.

Silence

Diana: As you know, there have been quite a few changes taking place within the monarchy. New rules, new procedures and such. One of those changes included regular visits with a monarch physician. While we were ensuring that all family members were healthy and receiving the best care, there was another reason why everyone was required to do this.

Diana: You see, we've known for quite some time that there is something affecting this family - an illness. Previously, we've only focused on monarchs and heirs and how they were affected. But this approach proved ineffective. So, we began testing other members of the family to get better results. You're all here because the testing we've done shows that you or your children or spouses are affected.

Surprised and concerned murmer

Lydia clears throat: Let Her Majesty continue!

Diana: I know that this is concerning, but there is good news. The testing has not only helped us discover who is affected and why. But we've also discovered a short-term treatment. The goal, of course, is to find a cure, but this is a step in the right direction.

Ian: May we speak, Your Majesty?

Diana: Of course.

Ian: What exactly is the illness and what is the cause you discovered?

Diana: The illness is actually a genetic defect passed down from King William ll likely due to his time as a locksmith before the war. What happens is certain cells in your body are attacked especially when under chronic stress. That is why so many monarchs were tested and treated most as the stress of the job often triggered the illness causing other issues. My father included.

Sarah: Is this the illness that killed King Parker?

Diana: ...Yes. It has caused a lot of harm to this mainly to monarchs and heirs. My father, brother and I included.

Spencer: This has caused a great deal of harm to our family. It is the reason Elizabeth and I were never able to produce an heir. My brother the late King William lll was also affected. Abdicating early was likely the only thing that prolonged his life even for the short time it did.

Emmitt: My grandfather... What about my father?

Spencer: As far as I know, he was not affected, but there is no way to know for sure as he was never tested since he wasn't a monarch or heir.

Bria annoyed: Okay, let me get this straight. There is some secret family illness that has been literally killing people, you guys have known about it, started testing on us and our kids without our knowledge, and know you have some major treatment that we know nothing about, and we're just supposed to trust this?

Diana: I understand how this sounds, but this is something that could not have been widely known. Especially when we didn't have all the information.

Lydia: And Your Royal Highness, it's 'Your Majesty' when you address the Queen!

Diana: Lydia, it's alright. Bria, please understand that the last thing I've wanted to do is keep this from all of you. But if this got out, it would reflect negatively on the royal family.

Bria: No, Diana. I don't think you understand. You're telling me that you have withheld medical information from me about my children. As a mother, I'm sure you can understand how that crosses a line!

Diana: Bria, your children are a part of this family, this monarchy. That information was only withheld due to the damage it could cause the entire family including them.

Bria angry: I don't care about this monarchy! This institution is clearly why my kids and husband could be sick!

Spencer: Okay, I think we all just need to take a breather. Everyone in this room is affected here. Bria, you have to know that it was not up to Diana to keep this secret. Even she didn't know until recently. Previously only monarchs held this information and that's only if they were affected.

Bria: Ugh, this whole place is insane! Don't you see how crazy that is? You people care more about the monarchy than the people in it!

Diana: That's not true, Bria. I care...

Bria: No, it is true, Diana. I know very well. You care only when it serves you. That's how this whole monarchy game serves works. And I've played it long enough! I will not let me kids be victim to this machine.

Diana: Bria, what are you saying?

Bria: I expect all my family's medical records to be sealed and sent to us personally. We will be finding our own outside medical care. And as far as I'm concerned, my kids are done with whatever this is. Emmitt, Ella, let's go.

[therealkaidertrash21]

Ok, this is the essay I've been talking about, defending kaider. Keep in mind that I'm 15 and English is not my first language, so I might've said something wrong. Also, this is veeery formal because that's what I was taught to do.

Like in all fandoms and all canon and non-canon pairings, kaider sometimes receives comments regarding their dynamic saying that it is not a good ship, that it is not well written, or that they do not go well together. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, however, there are several good arguments against this position.

Firstly, the main aspect that is often criticized about kaider is how quickly the characters "fell in love" and it is often referred as "instalove" even though, if it is carefully analyzed, it becomes obvious that this is not true at all.

Kai, Cinder's love interest, develops a romantic interest in her since their first meeting, this is a fact. But it does not mean it was instalove. Because instalove is love at first sight, when a character thinks the other is their soulmate and wants to be with them forever after only taking a glance at them. However, this is not what happens with kaider. Kai is interested in Cinder and asks her out multiple times but he is not in love, it is very obvious he is just a teenager who has a crush on a girl. This is not rare in real life. This is not unrealistic at all.

In addition, it is impossible to say Cinder's feelings are anything similar to instalove. She doesn't instantly develop feelings for the prince. At the beginning of the story, she does think about him and is interested in him, but her feelings are not particularly strong or obvious yet (partly because she is repressing them).

Secondly, another aspect that is often used to say kaider is a bad pairing, from Cinder's side, is that she is a "not like other girls" character, when she technically is not. This is almost a separate subject, but in essence: Cinder does not say she is not like other girls as a way to put herself above them and denigrate them, she does this because she is insecure, as a way to place herself below them.

Finally, often people criticize this pairing because they think Cinder would be unhappy if she married Kai, because she never wanted to be queen. But the reasons why Cinder did not want to be royalty are not simple. There are many reasons: 1. Cinder does not want to fail her people, 2. she thinks she will not be accepted by the citizens, 3. She desires anonymity. None of these reasons are actually about ruling a country, and once she overcomes these things they would not affect her.

Some might also argue that since she was queen, and then abdicated, she doesn't want to rule. But the reason for her abdication is mostly about her political position. She believes a monarchy is bad for Luna, since monarchs can easily manipulate their citizens (which they have done before). That is the true reason for her abdication. And even after her abdication, she still dedicated her life to politics as an ambassador, which she was not obligated to do.

In conclusion, even though kaider might seem badly written sometimes, this is not true. It is deeper than what it seems. The characters are complex, the reasons why they act in certain ways are very complex as well, as they would be in a real world scenario. Everyone has the right to have their own opinion, but it is good to analyze deeper, rather than only retaining a first impression or a superficial analysis.

also, credits to @impossiblesuitcase because I based most of the sixth paragraph on their post about a similar topic.

[duchessofostergotlands]

Leonor is putting an impressive number of engagements before getting in the navy. In a way I wish more European royals would feel the pressure the Spanish do, because it’s embarrassing to see a teenager work more than actual monarchs and constistently giving more relevant speeches than middle aged people. It’s actually good for these privileged people to know their position is not set in stone.

I was going to go into depth about why you shouldn't compare families etc but let's just fact check this first. The only family that has an official, public record of engagements is the Brits (one of the many many reasons you don't compare wildly different situations) so the best you can do with other royal families is use their website. As far as I can tell from Casa Real Leonor has done 9 engagements this year. You state that she's doing "more than actual monarchs" and I'd love to know which monarchs have done less than 9 engagements since January because I can't think of any. Harald did more than that in June alone and he's 87 and just had a pacemaker implanted lol.

I also find the statement that she is "constistently giving more relevant speeches than middle aged people" to be odd. Relevant means appropriate. We're not the intended audience for the vast majority of speeches so unless unless it's egregious - like talking exclusively about Botswana during a visit to Hungary - how can we judge what's more or less relevant? We can say if we liked the speeches or not, sure. You could say if it's relevant to you and your life (for example I don't enjoy military related speeches because I'm not a fan of the military so it isn't relevant to me personally). But I'm not a German politician or a business person from Japan, how would I know what's relevant to them if they're the kind of intended audience, which they generally are for older royals compared to the young royals whose speeches tend to be aimed at the general public through events like National Days or birthdays? What exact passages in Leonor's speeches make them more relevant than those given by older people?

None of this is in any way a criticism of Leonor. I'm not Spanish but as an outsider she seems like a kind, intelligent, confident, mature young woman and a credit to her parents. Again, as an outsider, I'd say she's doing an excellent job. But it's totally unfair to use her to put down people in vastly different circumstances using inaccurate information and criticisms neither you nor I are actually qualified to make. The next generation are coming into their own and we have the chance to make sure they become leaders who are recognised for their own strengths and criticised for their own failings.

Of course royals need to know that their position is determined by us, the people. But if I've learned anything from our WW2 and abdication episodes of the podcast it's that the most successful royals are those who are motivated by a recognition that their job is an honour and they have a responsibility to the public, not those who are scared of losing their ponies.

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Lines of Succession

The one plot point that most viewers seem to have a problem with is the one with August and the line of succession. Common critique is that it doesn't make sense, that it's unrealistic, and that it either comes out of nowhere, or that everyone involved should have already known. I have no problems with it, but I also speculated that this was a possible season 2 plot point over a year ago: Heir Today - Gone Tomorrow. So here's my take on it, which hopefully will dispel a lot of confusion and answer common questions.

"Why August? Aren't there any other closer relatives?"

Above is a possible family tree that contains what we know from the show, gets the family connections right, gets the titles right, and makes it so that August comes after Wilhelm in the bloodline. This works as long as Kristina doesn't have any siblings, if August's grandmother was the oldest or only sibling of the previous king, and if August's dad was the oldest or only sibling in his family.

I don't think any of that is a stretch. Sure, the current king of Sweden has a bunch of children and grandchildren and there's no lack of eligible heirs, but throughout history there's lots of examples of royal lines that died out because of a lack of children. Shit happens. In Japan, for example, all hope rests on the 16-yo Prince Hisahito. If he dies in an accident or doesn't have kids, 1400 years of the unbroken line of House Yamato goes down the drain. Better be straight, kid. No pressure!

"Why is this a surprise to the characters? Doesn't everyone already know August is second in line?"

The UK for example has a very long line of succession that is indeed well-known, and all of Prince William's or Prince George's cousins and second cousins and more distant relatives have a known place in the line of succession, and you could spot this plot coming from miles away if things worked like that in the Young Royals universe.

But the UK is an outlier among European royal families. In Sweden, and in many other European monarchies, the line of succession is short, and usually limited to the current monarch and their children and grandchildren. Given what various characters say throughout the show, this seems to be the case in-universe. The line of succession in the show has only one name on it: Wilhelm.

"The Queen can't just move people into the line of succession as she likes!"

Indeed she cannot, and that's not what's happening either! August isn't in the line of succession at any point in the show, and has never been in it. But the Queen does have the power to promote members of the wider royal family, to showcase them, to include them in events for the royal family, and so on. The plan is to make August a "working royal", to have him perform royal duties, hold speeches, attend events, and engage in charities. In addition, they're cleaning up his public persona and setting him on the same path of education and military service that Erik was on, as if he was eligible to inherit the throne.

That way, if Wilhelm triggers a constitutional crisis by leaving the line of succession or abdicating or whatever - hopefully decades from now - they can present August as the easy alternative. Getting him into the actual line of succession would require a change to the constitution, which in turn requires a lot of political work and goodwill and popular support. But if August is popular with the people, if everyone already thinks of him as a member of the royal family, and if he's preferably married with children, then Parliament would only need to make a small change to the constitution to make him eligible, and keep the monarchy going, thus resolving the constitutional crisis once and for all.

"But the Queen knows what August did, can't she skip him over?"

Yes she does know, and she's making it clear he's not her first choice. But she has to choose him, because he is next in the bloodline. And the rules for the line of succession can't be arbitrary, they have to follow simple rules, it's all the heirs or nothing. If the rules are changed to widen eligibility one step further out, August's name would come up first because that's what the family tree looks like.

But if the Queen were to promote someone else in the extended family, someone who is more distantly related than August, everyone would start asking questions. Why not him? What's wrong with him? He'd be shoved into the spotlight, the press would start digging, and all the dirt would come out. This would tarnish the image of the royal family, and if Wilhelm causes a crisis and Parliament has to change the rules, a lot more people would be in favour of scrapping this monarchy thing. If the royal family doesn't have its shit together, why not switch to a republic and elect a president instead?

So if the Queen wants to preserve the monarchy, she has to choose August, and she has to clean up his public persona, and she has to rug-sweep the sex tape scandal, even though that hurt Wilhelm.

"Shouldn't August already have thought of this himself?"

Again, August isn't in the line of succession, and can't campaign on his own to be included in it. This scheme can only work with the full backing of the royal family and the royal court, he needs their entire PR machinery to do the work for him. If he even breathed this thought into words, everyone would laugh him out.

At the start of the show, both Erik and Wilhelm are alive, which means his chances are pretty much zero. At the end of season 1, he has leaked the sex tape and thinks he'll be in deep shit if the Queen finds out. We know she knows at that point, but August doesn't. In the beginning of season 2, he thinks they know, and is just waiting for them to punish him for it.

The only point in the show where he comes close to thinking this out loud is in S1E4 after the Society party, where he asks Wilhelm if he wants to trade places with him. That's as far as he dares push it, because this show isn't Game of Thrones where anyone with an army and a couple of dragons can press their claims.

"Yeah, well, the show doesn't explain any of this very well!"

Alright, that's fair enough, but this is why you should be reading my posts, explaining all of this! If you had read all of my old analysis posts, this wouldn't have come as a surprise to you! 😜

Because to me, all of this makes sense. I think it's plausible, the family tree works out, and the plan works out. It's still important to remember that this plan isn't a sure thing though. The Queen can only suggest to Parliament that they should make August eligible, and he needs to have a squeaky clean image. The whole thing can go sideways in a million ways...

Oh no, oh no, oh no no no no...

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

Honestly, one of the "best" parts of Fates' writing is that it's bad in so specific ways that there is just enough good stuff there that it gets people thinking about ways in which it could be better. For example, here are some of my own ideas:

Anankos, the Rainbow Sage, the Nohr Dragon and the Hoshido Dragon were siblings like the "modern" Nohr/Hoshido siblings, and the Nohr/Hoshido dragons were female. Those two and the Rainbow Sage sealed themselves into a human form to put off the madness that inevitably befalls dragons in old age, but Anankos didn't

Anankos eventually went mad because of course he did, and went on a massive rampage across the continent, only to be stopped by the combined efforts of his siblings and their respective human allies/partners. Valla gets flung into a seperate dimension sorta thing because of it, and Anankos gets super duper sealed away, first in the way that he can't leave Valla, and then in the way that he is sealed away within Valla

A Lot Of Time passes and Valla + Anankos get either forgotten or are erased from people's memories, but Anankos eventually manages to break free from his seal within Valla... but the one keeping him in Valla, no such luck. The people of Valla can leave, and his influence and power can extend beyond Valla, but he physically can't leave Valla

So, next actual change: Iago and Yukimura are both from Valla and servants of Anankos instead of Generic Evil Henchmen #1 and The Most Forgettable Playable Fates Character (which is saying something). Both are trying to corrupt the respective rulers of Hoshido and Nohr enough despair so that they become a suitable vessel for Anankos, who can use their distant familial connection to get his mind into their bodies and leave Valla that way

Speaking of respective monarchs: Sumeragi's first wive, Ikona is still alive, and the queen of Hoshido even in the present. Corrin also still ends up outside of Valla, but Mikoto gets yoinked back right after she gets Corrin outta there

The whole Corrin getting adopted and kidnapped stuff still happens, but both sides believe that they are Corrin's blood family due to some Magic Mind Manipulation™ from Iago and Yukimura. Corrin's not vital to Anankos' plans, but hey, can't hurt to have a potential backup vessel, right?

About halfway through Conquest, Corrin turns against Nohr together with Camilla and Elise who are already with them, they basically join forces with the rebellion in Cheve, and by proxy, Scarlet, and manage to break Garon out of his mind control a good ten chapters before the game is even over

But, there's still a perfectly good Hoshido to ruin, and so Yukimura gets to work on Ikona, who's also susceptible to that shit, especially since Iago had to flee and seek refuge in Hoshido

In Birthright meanwhile, Hoshido just doesn't get to be the Magical UwU Peace Kingdom, and their relationship to the people under them is similar to how it is between Nohr and say, the Ice Tribe. Speaking of which, Flame Tribe rebellion

In Birthright's ending, Ryoma abdicates the throne and lets Hinoka become queen because he thinks he doesn't make a good ruler

Endgame for both Birthright and Conquest sees the siblings of the side you didn't pick get pulled into the whole mind control/Being Influenced deal, and they form the last line of defence for Garon/Ikona. To get to the chamber where the respective monarch has sealed themselves, you only need to kill three of the four siblings, and it's your choice who it is! Chances are that the remaining siblings may not have the best view of Corrin afterwards, though.

Conquest has Garon join as playable in the endgame, Birthright has Ikona join in the endgame, Revalation has both of them join. Also, they have supports with each other there.

.

[groenendaelfic]

do you think wille will/should abdícate in the future or do you think he’ll become king one day?

The way this is worded I am 99.9 percent sure this is one of my friends trolling me, but I'll bite anyway even if it is, so strap in, because I have many messy, convoluted THOUGHTS. (in case it isn't sorry for presuming Anon and thanks for your question and being curious about my opinion)

The reason why I think this is a friendly troll ask is because you can't make this an or question and I have been very vocal about that in the past. I mean you can, Young Royals fandom is doing it all the time everywhere, but you shouldn't and yes I'll keep being nitpicky about that.

Why? Because In the context of monarchies and royalty the word abdication only applies to crowned monarchs and yes it does make a difference.

Let me use a (simplified) irl example: Harry didn't abdicate, William can't abdicate (yet), only Charles can and only now that he's king. Charles could have given up his rights to the throne in favor of William when he was still Prince of Wales, but that wouldn't have been an abdication, not if he had done it before becoming King himself.

The same is true for Wilhelm. Wilhelm can only abdicate after ascending the throne. If he's not king, it's not an abdication.

Yes I'll keep harking on about this until the end of my days, because while it might not seem like a big deal what word you use here, it actually makes a big difference legally and politically and on all levels if it's a crowned monarch and head of state formally abdicating or if it's an heir giving up their place in the line of succession.

So what we're actually all discussing here (most of the time) is should Wilhelm give up his place in the line of succession and right to the throne, and my immediate reaction to that (after no, never, but also he's sixteen, it's way to soon for any of that) is, how and in what way?

We're all rooting for Wilhelm and want him to be happy, of course we are. Wilhelm is my absolute favorite, but I hate this trend in the fandom that's romanticizing what everyone likes to call "'Wille's abdication" or abolishing the monarchy in general, because just because "it's right", doesn't mean it's in any way easily or quickly done in a "haha and now Sweden no longer has a monarchy" kind of way. That's not how it works.

Don't get me wrong, I'll never romanticize the monarchy or any other systems enforcing hierarchies and inequality, not in irl nor in any of my fics. Tax billionaires until they aren't anymore, eat the rich and yes, of course get rid of all monarchies, but you can't just go "lol no longer a prince", especially when like Wilhelm, you're still a teenager and can't make a properly informed decision about what you're doing.

Now before you all come at me with pitchforks, of course teenagers can tell right from wrong and make informed decisions, but Wilhelm grew up not only with immense privilege, but also extremely sheltered and in a bubble. Yes he started out his first semester of 'high school' in a public school, but I promise you the majority of his classmates' parents weren't plumbers or tax accountants.

Wilhelm has no idea of real life, not even rich people real life. He doesn't go to the store or buy his own clothes, and neither do his parents, nor do they randomly go to restaurants or whatever. Wille has never been able to go out in public without being photographed and noticed and everyone making a fuss, and he has no idea how most things work because there's always staff doing everything for him quietly and in the background.

If, and I say if, Wilhelm is sure he wants to step back from his role, then he should still wait until his early to mid twenties before doing so, because doing so is complicated and not something he can change his mind about later. Also he needs to learn about normal life first.

But I digress. Lets say Wilhelm does want to give up the throne. He's brought it up himself as a possibility when he was still desperately trying to get Simon back in any way he could. That still makes him a prince and a duke.

He'd still be a member of the royal family/house (I hate how that seems to be used synonymously in English). Not being king wouldn't mean he wouldn't be expected to become a working member of the royal family once he's an adult, except now there'll be a different monarch, one he'll have to obey within the family hierarchy, and chances are it'll be August.

Okay, so we take this a step further. Wilhelm gives up his rights to the throne and doesn't become a working royal, but that would mean betraying his family (his words) and stepping away from them. Not just his parents but everything he's grown up with and everything he knows. And he'd still be a prince and a duke.

Wilhelm will never be Joe Average Wille (is Harry now? Was Diana? and neither of them were next in line), no matter how much he might want to, especially not after S02E06 and I know I've said it before but I'll say it again: he'll keep being hounded, he'll keep being seen as royalty, and the only thing that'll change is who pays for his security.

(which btw the security thing is no joke, I know Wilhelm has no Diana levels of celebrity yet, but he's now the first openly queer modern royal and heir to the Swedish throne, there will be significant international media interest and it will stay, especially now with smart phones being able to capture his every move, and I'm old enough to remember the shit show that happened when Diana no longer had official protection officers and police protection and it was not fun, hounded is an understatement and professional 24/7 security is expensive and private security will never be as good as those who also have government/Security Service resources)

Also I firmly believe that what Wilhelm hates is not being royalty or the future king, but being forced into a role, handed a script and expected to perform without any of his own input.

When that changes, and it will, his attitude towards it will also change.

People argue that he'll be happier once he gives up his place in the line of succession, but I disagree.

I think he might have been happier had he been born a normal kid, but also maybe not because then he'd be a very different person, so there's no telling, but he'd always live with the guilt of betraying his family and heritage, and people, both well meaning and not, will never let him forget that.

Yes he struggles now, and I don't want to make light of his struggles, but every teenager struggles with their identity and place in life and things will be different once he's grown up and more secure in himself.

My 'ideal' fantasy solution were this irl would be for Wilhelm to become the last King and to work with the government to ensure a smooth transition once he retires, because abolishing the Swedish monarchy is complicated, but do I think that'll actually happen? No. Because that's not the kind of person Wilhelm is.

Also Wilhelm has been born to immense wealth, privilege and soft power, all three of which he will to a degree keep all his life no matter what happens.

Of course he needs to put his own mental health and wellbeing first, and I'm aware that he never asked for any of this, but he still has it, and with that comes a duty, and I think it'd be absolutely selfish of him to just take that wealth, privilege and soft power and to let the "common people" deal with the mess he left behind, because let's not kid ourselves, if he announces he'll give up his throne tomorrow and sticks with it until he's eighteen and beyond, do you really think people in power won't do anything they can to keep the system in place?

Kristina loves her son and wants what's best for him, even if she's not the best parent, but she'll not dismantle the system for him.

She knew what August had done, and she still would've rather had him as heir instead of even so much as considering anything else.

The Royal Court most certainly won't, and even if the elected government wouldn't be opposed to getting rid of the monarchy (if, there's a chance but not a guarantee, depending who is in power when that happens), that's not the end of it.

You can't abolish the monarchy and keep the nobility (edit: as it's been pointed out you can in theory, but my point is that the nobility won't be happy about it because it's a threat to them as well, and not just socially, and why would a Sweden in the 21st century do one but not the other, elites don't like changes in the status quo, even if at first glance it doesn't directly affect them, and this does), and there will be plenty of people, both obscenely rich and averagely well off people, who will do their utmost to keep their position of privilege.

It will not only become a matter of equality, Sweden is one of the most egalitarian countries in the world. It'll be about history and heritage and tradition.

It'll be a giant mess and if it wants any chance of succeeding, it'll need someone in power to actively work towards it, someone whose position the monarchists and traditionalists and conservatives respect, and that has to be a King Wilhelm, not a Crown Prince Wilhelm or a Prince Wilhelm or a Joe Average Wille who took his wealth and privilege and soft power and ran away because he chose to be selfish and leave a system in place no one was better able to do something about than him.

Now of course I'm once again talking about an adult Wilhelm, canon Wilhelm is still a teenager and shouldn't have to deal with or worry about any of that, and he gets to want to be selfish, because he's sixteen, but he won't always be sixteen, and when he isn't any longer his outlook will have changed as well.

Now we come to another point though, and that is that Wilhelm is not a revolutionary. He has his own head and a temper and doesn't want to blindly do as he's told, but he's not the kind of person who goes and topples a system.

I don't even think Simon is. He wouldn't mind the monarchy being abolished, sure, but I don't think he has the energy to become a political activist and to fight the system all his life, especially in a life without Wilhelm.

With Wilhelm it's different, there I'm sure he'll use the power he has for good. He'd be aware that he can change things and do his best to choose his engagements carefully should he become a member of the royal family.

That said, in time I don't think Wilhelm will mind being King, not if he also gets to be with Simon at the same time, and I don't think he should give up his place in the line of succession.

Finally, and most importantly, because we're talking about a TV show and a fic fandom here and not irl, I love playing with the idea of the Royal Court, the Swedish upper class, and all the conservatives and monarchists having to (figuratively) bow and scrape to an openly queer, headstrong monarch and the gay, biracial love of his life who also happens to be the son of a poor, immigrant single mother, because that is a very, very cathartic thought, and so yeah, King Wilhelm and Prince/Duke/King Consort Simon all the way, always.

That's what drew me to this show in the first place, a queer Crown Prince, and not a random queer teenager going about his normal life. There're plenty of other (great) shows for that.

[heartbreakprincewille]

I think adding August as the next potential heir to the throne was literally the best stake they could have added to the whole Wilhelm Abdicating vs Wilhelm Continuing as Crown Prince discussion.

Up until August is summoned to the palace and informed of this change in the line of succession, Wilhelm is very much stuck in a limbo with his position as the Crown Prince- he has to conform to his duties, it doesn't matter(to the Royal Court) if he does it from an angry state of mind or otherwise. He has no choice, it's very much evident since we see him as the Crown Prince after Erik's death. Even if he would have accepted his position with grace, it would be just a less conflict-ridden way to conforming to the same, overriding fate of being the head of an institution he doesn't agree with.

But after adding August to the line of succession, Wilhelm has a choice. Yes, August is probably the worst person to inherit a position of power, but if we see it from Wilhelm's perspective, he can still technically give away the throne to August- he's atleast an eligible candidate in the eyes of the Royal Court. He will take his role more "seriously", he's actually willing and cooperating to their wishes and (it makes me angry though) by confirming that he's heterosexual, they assured themselves that there will not be any crisis in terms of future heirs from August. Wilhelm knows he doesn't fit into these criterias, and the only reason the Royal Court isn't willing to pursue August head on as the Crown Prince is that Wilhelm is still more directly related to the Crown- he's the son of the current monarch. And now he has a choice. He can be free- as he told Simon- to be with him, to live freely without any pressures.

And the best part? He still chooses being the Crown Prince despite everything. He knows that giving it all away to August when he has seen his power-hungry tactics will be unfair. Not only because what he did to him and Simon but just how awful and selfish of a person he is in general. You can see the gears moving inside Wilhelm's brain when August calls him to negotiate- he sees that how wrong it would be to give away the throne to a person who has no sense of morality besides for himself.

When Wilhelm's anxiety gets the best of him during the Jubilee speech, he sees Simon, Simon's "I really hate August" echoing in his mind, and he takes the podium away from August despite his crushing anxiety. August can never muster such grace and humility.

And that's why I'm really excited to see Wilhelm as a Crown Prince further because despite the overwhelming pressure that entails it all- it's his choice now. It's his narrative now. And also him being an openly queer royal is just the cherry on top.

[inky-duchess]

Tis I, from the abdication question.

So, while (R) can't take the throne, could they become an advisor to whomever does end up on the throne? Who would be the most likely to end up on the throne next?

This question isn't relevent to the story, just curious about a story I read that inspired me to make my book: I read a story where the eldest son abdicated the throne, the middle daughter left with her mother after the mom divorced the king, and the youngest son became next in line. Could the daughter come back and take the throne, because she technically never gave up her claim to it? If so, what would she have to do, if anything? (In this story, it didn't matter gender, only age)

She can but usually royals abdicate have to leave the country. Their presence is a danger because they threaten the new heir, even if they've shown literally no interest in the job. And it's best for them to go because in a way, they have publicly neglected their duty and can't be seen to be hanging around living in luxury. Also, imagine being at your job and the person who had your job but quit still hangs around and it's more annoying and dangerous because this isn't something small, this is a kingdom and the royal who abdicated is another option. Monarchs never sit comfortably when there's another option. She would be better off supplying information fro afar.

The next heir will be a relative, distant or close. They may have to go a long way back in the family tree but there is an heir there.

Yes but only if she's the child of the King. She would have to return and garner support from nobles, couriers and politicians. She will also have to explain why she left the kingdom

[hekatekun]

wip wednesday, or, as i like to call it, thursday

sharing some of the most recent project i've been tinkering with which is the omusubi/season 3 essay:

On May 1, 2019, a new emperor takes the Chrysanthemum Throne. The Heisei era died in April, with imperial year Reiwa 1 beginning the day after Akihito abdicated. No emperor has voluntarily relinquished himself of his role in over 200 years, apparently so unprecedented that the Imperial Household Law of 1947 - which dictates plans of succession - had no legislation covering this situation.

令和 (Reiwa) is unique in that it’s the only era name that comes from Japanese originated text as opposed to the tradition of using classical Chinese texts, something prime minister Shinzo Abe publicly emphasized. 令和 is officially read as "beautiful harmony." As you can imagine, people disagree over this interpretation. Taken from the Asahi Shimbun:

However, some experts said the first Chinese character, 令 (Rei), today is most widely thought to mean "order," ”command," and "dictate," with an authoritarian tone. Historians and experts on the monarchy noted that an 1864 era name proposal of "Reitoku" using the same first character was rejected by the Tokugawa Shogunate, which said it sounded like the emperor was commanding Tokugawa. "The name sounds as if we are ordered to achieve peace, rather than doing so proactively," Kazuto Hongo, a University of Tokyo historian, said on TV Asahi. Yoshinori Kobayashi, a conservative cartoonist who has written books on Japanese emperors, said the character "Rei" portrays "the people kneeling down under the crown. Its meaning, after all, is a command of a monarch or a ruler. ... It is inevitable that 'Reiwa' gives a somewhat cold impression." [x]

Circling back around, one of the morals in S3E1 is: if you're going to be an asshole in public, then there's going to be public consequences. When there's no consequences, the assholes won't ever go away. Sticking a pin in this idea for later, what if that's sometimes a good thing?

Why are the sextuplets assholes? While we could list off answers forever, they all ultimately boil down to why (in part) the sextuplets are also virgin NEETs. Unabashedly, they're terrible people. And remember, nothing is sacred. The fact they're Not in Education, Employment, or Training, is a huge part of promoting the characters in such a manner. I don’t think I need to explain why this is clearly a dig at how such a capitalistic society values your productivity - both as a consumer and as an employee - and the fact that the conceptual NEET who engages in playtime isn’t the worst person to be. So, if this is a gag comedy anime that relies on relatability - on an audience that’s to, on some level, sympathize with these guys, what about this NEETdom is relatable?

[shmackhaystack]

The Queen and Her Levi- Prologue

King!Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

Description:

"All my life I have never known what it was like to love someone, if anything, really. Until I met you, and everything changed, you brat."

"Reader" has a name, if you don't like it, then change it to your own, the world is your oyster.

Will contain VERY mature and triggering content. Viewer discretion is advised and minors please DNI.

Posted on Tumblr April 2024, also on Wattpad. If you would like to message me please feel free! I would appreciate and encourage any feedback, as well as messages if you are wanting more! Hope you enjoy.

[word count: around 700]

Chapter 1 right here

Prologue

Most may think of Levi Ackerman as humanities strongest soldier and the most honorable man alive, not to mention undeniably handsome. Though, almost everyone is unaware that he is not just that, but a sadist, a debt collector, a sexually unsatisfied human who longs for his true value in life. Everyone in the kingdom knows well not to mess with King Levi Ackerman, whom is constantly high on the power he never asked for. He also works as a caption in the Scout Regiment to help humanity find the true meaning behind the titans, which sometimes, he prefers doing then being a king. Is being an estranged king to a throne he never wanted his true purpose in life? Is there more to him than just this? 

He inherited his throne by his distant and estranged uncle Kenny Ackerman, whom abdicated his throne due to rumors of his sociopathy and murderous habits. Levi Ackerman, a 25 year old boy who had unknowingly been the heir of the land and walls that lived above him. After his two dearest friends, Isabel and Farlan were killed, he had no choice or care in the world but to inherit the throne and become the true King of the Walls. Luckily, he had help with running a kingdom with the help of the Scout Regiment leaders, Hange Zoe and Erwin Smith, as well as many others that helped him keep his sanity stable. 

For years, Levi was a decent king. He helps feed the hungry, he helps fund the scout regiment into looking for what was beyond just giant humanoids eating people mindlessly, he helps keep the peace within the walls from what lies beyond them, if there is any peace left at all. One other thing he does, though, is collect debts from those that have wronged him. 

In the year 843, two years before the fall of wall Maria, Levi still is undefeated and not threatened by the status of his reign. He lives a stable life with low rank maid girls occasionally at his doorstep for him to have sex with and be done with it. His advisors for years now, have been attempting to encourage their king to marry a highborn girl and produce his heirs. Though, every rich, highborn girl that he had come to be introduced to was rejected. His closest colleagues, Hange and Erwin, slowly questioned if he would end up getting married at all. Levi only seemed to care about his job as a captain in the Scouts rather than his job as a monarch. 

King Levi Ackerman is many things, but one thing he is strongly, is a debt collector, to those who have stolen or took advantage of his money and power for the time he has been in power as the king. Levi makes sure that his power is not taken advantage of, and most of the time, those who have end up dead or regretting their decision to defy their King. One man within wall Rose absolutely questions how patient of a man Levi can be, and his name is Dan Reiss. Dan Reiss is known to be a well off noble man with a good fortune due to his family history, though nobody alive knows much about the Reiss family other than they have been known to be more rich to their liking. Dan Reiss, known to be a struggling alcoholic and gambler, has made the mistake of owning a tremendous amount of money to many higher ups within the kingdom, and eventually, he owed money to the King. Dan Reiss is most likely not going to like what happens to him or to his estate and the money he last left, but what happens when Levi himself sees that Dan Reiss has a 19 year old daughter who is very much innocent and untouched?

Keep reading to find out :)

[This story is the same timeline and plot as Attack on Titan, except- Levi Ackerman is the king of the walls. The main character is Historia Reiss' older cousin, there will be other characters in this story that I have created as well. This story will contain strong smut, mentions of rape, and lots of mature content, minors please do not interact. This book was inspired by a writer and a story that I can no longer find access to unfortunately, as well as my love for Game of Thrones and Attack on Titan obviously ;) Proof read, if you find any errors please let me know! I am an amateur writer who just wants people to enjoy what I write...All rights reserved, please enjoy]

- kat

[isfjmel-phleg]

Who is Elystan?

Today, October 31, is my OC Elystan's birthday.

Bio

Elystan Allister Philimond Talfrin Liddick is the only surviving child of King Talfrin of Corege and his wife Bethira. Just barely surviving, actually--he has a variety of health problems, including severe asthma and a heart condition. For the sake of his health (and to keep this embarrassing fact as much out of the public eye as possible), he has grown up in a separate household from his parents, at a country estate alongside his half-brother Delclis and cared for a full-time live-in nurse who has become more of a mother figure to him than Bethira. Elystan is bright, imaginative, and eager to explore all life's possibilities and someday become the dynamic monarch his father wants him to be, but he's also physically limited, socially isolated, and struggles with his father's inconsistent affection and dismissal.

So he's developed a mixture of denying his illnesses or using them to manipulate, depending on the situation. The combination of being heir to the throne and a semi-invalid who mustn't be upset in any way hasn't been good for him, and he's rather a self-centered, conniving little jerk when introduced.

And then his father unexpectedly is forced to abdicate. The throne goes not to Elystan but to Delclis, and Elystan is left without a title and without his beloved father after Talfrin goes into exile. But before long, Talfrin heads a revolt to retake the throne and enlists Elystan's ready assistance. They do not succeed.

From there, things go from bad to worse for an increasingly embittered Elystan, culminating in a rashly written and treasonous letter that leads his mother to get involved and send him off to boarding school, where he'll be sure to make plenty of friends, stay busy with his studies, and won't be able to cause Delclis any further trouble--won't he?

Why I Love Him

He's probably the least likeable of my main cast. He's a total jerk. He persists in being a total jerk. He wants friends but is horrible to every potential connection. He wants to be loved but is nothing but difficult to his entire family, except his father, who is the worst possible influence. All his attachment figures leave him. He's afraid of death but pretends he isn't. He acts superior but privately hates himself for not living up to the model of vigorous masculinity that his father wants him to be. He thinks he's the smartest person in the room. He usually isn't. He has an active sense of humor and loves the sound of his own voice. He wears ridiculously garish dressing gowns. He's the worst. Maybe he doesn't have to be that forever. Maybe he can grow. Maybe even someone like him can be worth caring about.

Description

For someone so small for his age, Elystan had presence. He was as slight and fragile as if constructed out of paper, but he held his head high, his scissor-snipped features in their narrow face on full display, pale against his black hair. His large blue eyes and the crook of amusement in the corner of his mouth did not seem to belong to the same face. He chattered authoritatively, with no apparent concern for the breathless thinness of his voice and the coughs that often punctuated his sentences. Very few people ever came close enough to notice the faint blueness in his complexion or the dark rims of his eyes, and even fewer had ever caught the times when his carefully trained regal posture slipped into a bent back and high shoulders, as if he were transforming into a question mark.

Further Info

There are lists of random OC facts for him here and here. These are somewhat old lists, created when I was still trying to more fully develop the character, and I might need to revisit/rethink them, but you get the idea.

Appearances

In a Nutshell (at age ten)

Curative (also at age ten)

Book 2 Chapter Eight from Elystan’s POV (probably will not remain canon since I need to overhaul this story but I still think his POV here is fun)

Elystan's Infamous Lamplight Letter (shortly before Book 3)

A Visit from the Murderess (shortly before Book 3)

Elystan meets Morstyn Hollock (some point during Book 3)

A Christmas Chapter (Elystan’s POV) (some point during Book 3)

He also has supporting/minor roles in

Seeing the Elephant

A Building Project

Prequel scene for Book 2

Book 2 Chapter Two

Book 2 Chapter Three

Book 2 Chapter Four

Book 2 Chapter Six

Picnic in the Clock Tower

Book 3 Chapter Two

A Christmas Chapter: Tamett's POV

A Christmas Chapter: Josiah's POV