#kingromanreigns

[nicolewoo]

King Reigns Part 2

King Reigns Part !

Pairing: King Roman Reigns X Reader

Warnings: None

“Your Majesty” my valet woke me. “I have urgent news for you.” I was mistaken. It wasn’t my valet’s voice. Who dared wake the King? Opening my eyes, I saw Charles next to the bed.

 “Charles, do you aspire to be my Valet now?” I grumbled.

 “Please lay out a riding outfit for the King”. Charles told my valet and servants began buzzing around the room. “No, Your Highness. I have urgent news.”

 “Continue.” I demanded.

“It is in regards to the issue you tasked me with yesterday.” I had no idea what Charles was talking about. When I didn’t answer, he continued. “Sire, The PRIVATE matter. Lady……” He prompted.

 Lady Buckland! I had tasked him with keeping the fair lady from discovering my identity. I ordered the room be vacated.

 Grabbing the pants that had been set out for me, Charles spoke quickly and dressed me faster than he spoke. “Lady Buckland is currently making her way to the Stables for an unchaperoned ride.” I grabbed my tunic, quickly throwing it on while Charles grabbed my coat. “I’ve sent word to the stable to stall as long as possible, and to saddle your horse.”

 “Thank you Charles!” I said as I tied my hair up and Charles slid my shoes on. “How did you find out?” I asked as we exited my room and half ran through the halls of the castle. “Lady Buckland wasn’t at the festivities last night.”

 Looking at me and arching an eyebrow, Charles laughed. “Lady Buckland may not want to attend court, but her driver has no such reservations. Oddly enough, the more ale he drinks, the more he talks. I simply ensured his goblet was never empty, and I got mountains of information on the fair maiden; including that she loves to ride alone in the morning.”

 Seeing a nun going to the chapel, I silenced Charles with a movement. “You are a genius Charles!” I said as the nun ducked into another hall after bowing politely.

 The smell of hay and horse cake filled my nose as I entered the stable. The fair Lady Buckland was nowhere to be seen, and I didn’t want to ask how far of a lead she had, lest I rouse suspicion from the stable hands.

 I thanked the young man who held my horse still as I mounted it, and I rode at full speed out of the barn. The sound of another clop of hooves alerted me that Charles was behind me. “I can handle this myself, Charles.”

 “Sire,” Charles started respectfully. “If this is to happen often, as I suspect it shall, I cannot in good conscious allow you to ride unprotected. I shall not call the guardsmen, but I shall accompany you for your safety.” When I didn’t answer, he continued. “I shall ride far enough away to give you privacy and still ensure your safety.” Now I nodded my gratefulness.

 The stable hands had been successful in stalling because we found Lady Buckland quickly just on the edge of my orchard. She was relaxing by a pond while her horse nuzzled it’s nose against her. She laughed, telling the horse it was tickling her. Charles turned his horse toward the orchard muttering that his horse loved apples.

  “Greetings Lady Buckland,” I said as I neared her.

 For the briefest second as she turned to look at me, I saw annoyance in her eyes, but it faded as she recognized me. “Lord Sussex.” She stood, knocking a few apples off her lap. Her horse was quick to gobble up the loose fruit. “What brings you out?”

 I dismounted my horse, taking his reins, and leading him to the pond to drink. “I often enjoy a morning ride. I find it helps clear my mind.” I answered. “What brings you out to the orchard? Were you enticed by the apples?” I pointed to the grove.

 “They are rather sweet and plump.” She said, looking for her recently discarded fruit. Finding none, she smiled and patted her horse on the neck. “At least that’s what Hera says.”

 “She’s a beautiful mount.” I said patting her horse’s nose. “Did you not try the apples?”

 We stood each of us on one side of Hera patting her neck, the horse’s hot breath snorting in the morning cold.  Grabbing a brush from the saddle, Lady Buckland began brushing Hera. The horse was obviously used to it, and she turned her muzzle toward her owner. “Hera didn’t want to share,” She laughed.

 Holding my hand up to my lips, I whistled as loud as I could. Seconds later, I saw Charles emerge from the grove. “Bring me some apples.” I called out to him, and he quickly trotted toward us with the fruit. Seeing the blanket on the back of his saddle, I grabbed it, and laid it out on the ground after pointing Charle’s horse back toward the orchard and gently tapping his rear. “Would you care to break your fast with me?” I asked Lady Buckland.

 By the time we sat on the blanket, Charles had discreetly disappeared. She answered with a bite of apple. Her eyes lit up when she tasted it. Long moments stretched out as she chewed, and I decided to take a bite of my apple too. It was as sweet as grapes.

 Hera’s big furry head pushed between us, begging for scraps. “Off with you!” the lady teased the horse but grabbed another apple and held it on her palm between us. Hera quickly grabbed the treat from her hand.  Seeing the exchange, my horse, Banon, wanted his own, and he wandered to my side. Holding another apple up, I gave it to Banon who knickered his thanks as he wandered over to Hera. The two horses seemed to get along.

 “If the fruit didn’t lure you out to the orchard, what did?” I asked.

 Turning to face the pond, she took a deep breath of air. She sighed out. “One could say that I too needed to clear my mind.”

 Whatever occupied her mind was far more serious than she led on. Although her lips smiled, there was but sadness I her eyes. I wanted to make that sadness go away.

 “What troubles you?” I asked as I resisted the urge to reach out and comfort her.

 She sighed again. “My Lord, my troubles are not my own.” She stopped as if that was all the information she intended to share.

“Then who troubles you?” I prompted.

 Speaking slowly, she looked around the grounds. “I sit here. Relaxing, eating apples, dressed in this ridiculous frock when I should be home, helping my tenants harvest their crops. Two of my tenants are due to give birth soon, and the midwife is sick. The pigs are fighting off an illness at one of the farms.” She stopped; frustration oozing from her. “I should be back at my estate, helping my people. Instead I’m here to be dressed up and trotted in front of the King like chattel. And what is to happen to my people if the King decides to make me his new queen? How can I tend their wounds, help their births, guide the farmers to the most fertile land?” She stopped again, gathering herself. “I must admit, I’m scared.”

 “Do you not think the King would help your people?” I asked.

 “I cannot know, unless it happens” she said. “We know not what type of king he will be.”

 My father’s death six months ago had come as a surprise to all of us. In a minute, my world changed forever. I was doing my best to be the same type of leader my father was, but now, as I ruled, I felt I often failed to meet his high standards. “I can tell you for certain that our new King is a kind and caring ruler. He strives to be as good of a leader as his father.”

 “It matters not if he desires to be a good ruler. I saw no king when my parents died 10 years ago. I saw no king when beetles ate our soy crops 8 years ago. I saw no king when the plow broke at the Dunderstat’s house or when Timmy died of the plague. I saw no king when a blight killed the corn crops 5 years ago. It matters not what he desires, but what the king does.”

 Her thoughts hung in the air like an engulfing fog. In the span of a few sentences, she had both insulted me and my father’s memory, and yet, she was right. Toward the end of the former king’s life, he was engulfed in the constant battles on our northern border. Keeping the Vikings at bay consumed his rule for nearly a decade. After, the injuries from war kept him in the castle most of the time.

 “I do not mean to speak ill of King Phillip. By all accounts, he was a good man.” She added.

 “He was a great man and a great king.” I said, and she immediately started nodding her agreement.

 “He was, but the new king could do better if he tried. Think on it, the Viking war is over. Our boarders are safe. Our new king could use this time to better the lives of his subjects.” She said.

 Tossing my apple core to Banon who ate it loudly. “Do you intend to tell the new King this when you meet with him?”

 She looked down into her lap. “No.”

 Raising an eyebrow, “Why not? You’ll have his undivided attention.”

 She sighed. “Kings care not what women say.”

 “They don’t?” I questioned.

 She challenged me with her gaze, “Nobel men listen not to women. We are but commodities to them.”

 She was right. “Maybe noble men seldom encounter women with anything worthy to say. Maybe if we had the luxury of being introduced to interesting women, we’d be interested.”

 “Instead, they are surrounded by noble women who care only for sex and gossip.”

 I thought about trying to defend the nobles, but everything she said was true. I’d had the same thoughts many times. I attended all the events, but seldom stayed past dinner. Female courtiers vied for my attention. Male courtiers threw their daughters at me. I was seldom comfortable at events.

 “Consider our new King. He is being dressed up and trotted out in front of single women. How did you say it? Like Chattle?”

 “At least he gets to choose who he marries.” She argued.

 “The king is not as free to choose as you may think. He is surrounded by women who want only to wear the crown, but not to love.”

  She leaned back, resting her hands on the ground behind her and furrowed her brow, “Are you saying our new king doesn’t want to marry?”

 “Actually our king would love to marry. He has yet to find the right woman.”

 She looked at me now. “And what pray tell is the king looking for in a wife?”

 Inhaling deep, I thought, “Our king? He wants a bride who is kind and honest, pious and strong, one who can stand up to others and for others if she needs to. Our king wants a true queen, who can rule side by side with him. One the nobles will listen to. One who can help smooth out trade negotiations or peace pacts when needed. One who will help the king be the best ruler he can be.”

 I looked at her now. Our conversation was so fluid, so candid, so relaxed. I was certain I wouldn’t find this level of comfort with any of the maidens I was to meet this week. Lady Buckland was indeed kind and honest and pious and strong. But would she help me be the best ruler I can be? Her thoughts were not for herself, but for the subjects of my kingdom. I believe she would make an ideal queen.

 “And I suppose the King would like this perfect queen to be beautiful?” She challenged.

 I thought for a moment. The lady lounging before me was stunningly beautiful, but unlike the ladies at court, she didn’t need to be all made up to look beautiful. I remembered how she looked at her carriage yesterday, dirt on her face, hands covered with grease, a slight sweat built up as she tried to repair the carriage. She was glorious. “I think a woman like that would be beautiful, no matter what her appearance.” I answered.

 A loud whistle from Charles wailed through the air. As he rode toward us he said, “My Lord Suffex, we must attend the King now. He is to meet with prospective brides today. Those meetings start in 30 minutes.”

 Zounds! Time had flown by. I wanted to stay here all day, relaxing, chatting. Honestly, one could argue that the conversation we had alerted me to the daily trials and tribulations of my subjects and therefore, could make me a better king.

 “Lady Buckland,” I said as I stood. I held my hand out to help her up, but she refused it, standing on her own. “Would you like to break your fast with me tomorrow morning? Shall we meet here?”

 As much as she tried to hide it, I could tell she was smiling just a bit as she considered. “Yes.”

@mindofasagitarius   @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist @marlananicole @wickedsunfire @snowpanda18 @thesamoanqueen​

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[ambreignssmemories]

Roman talks about his Superman Punch pose 👊 It's cute the way he told about it and se how he felt represent himself in it 😊 (credit to kingromanreigns)