◇ The Lady In Armour - King Baldwin x Reader: Part 1 ◇
◇ Long fic ◇
A/N: Oh boy this is a long one. I have had an absolute blast writing it. This was requested by @lzsia, I hope its what you had in mind! Let me know if you all want a part 2. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven and not the real historical figgures. This is also set pre-film. Enjoy!
PS: Also this has a desctiption of y/n
TW: Mentions of blood, death, battle, and leprosy
Y/n was never a weak woman. From the time she could walk, she was a fighter. Just like her father. Her mother despised this, often going as far as to scream at her when she even dared touching her fathers sword. This was 8 years ago.
She had since left her mother and siblings to join the mercenaries when she was 14. “You are just like your father. You are going to get yourself killed just like he did!” were the final words she ever heard her mother say. That was 2 years ago.
These words rang in her mind as she sat, perched atop her stallion. Women not being permitted to fight meant she had to keep her identity concealed from the prying eyes of men that surrounded her.
She had not meant to be a part of this battle. She thought it was too risky with the weight of her femininity pulling her down. Yet, here she was.
The army approached Jerusalem. And now there was nothing she could do. There was no going back.
Everything was a blur. Everything went so fast. They were out there for days. Weeks. But it passed like mere hours.
Until one night. One night everything changed. Her camp was ambushed. She was the first to see them coming, but she was not fast enough to warn everybody.
There were so many of them. They came from everywhere. Swords smashed against each other, blood sprayed the tents, bodies from both sides of the battle fell. Then everything went black.
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Y/n’s eyes snapped open. It was still dark. The first thing she noticed was the sharp pain in the back of her head. The second thing she noticed were the tight restraints, wrapped around her wrists and ankles. Shackles. She was in shackles. And whatever she was on was moving. She remained still to ensure whoever was around didnt she was awake, but opened her eyes wider to take in her surroundings.
She was on the back of a horse drawn wagon.
This was not good. Her mind immediately went to how to get out of this. She couldn't jump off the wagon on account of the shackles around her ankles and how fast it was moving. And she couldn't feel her sword on her belt anymore. She appeared to be the only one on the back of the wagon. That meant everyone from her camp was either dead or retreated to the base camp for backup. To make matters worse. Her helmet was gone. She turned her head to then side and saw it sitting on the opposite side of the wagon.
That explains the reason she wasn't killed. This was not a good situation. No doubt about it she would be executed. A prisoner being captured is bad enough, but as a woman? She would be killed for sure, but maybe even worse beforehand.
At least she would die like her father. With dignity. Not as some old woman after simply having children to a man she hated.
As she was thinking about this, the wagon stopped. It was sudden and abrupt. She heard the sound of men speaking and she could make out the faint outline of large white tents. The horse began moving again. She could not see the man who guided the horse but she knew it would be a soldier of Jerusalem. It had to be.
She wanted to put her helmet back on in case her face had not been seen yet, but she didn't want to move and risk whoever was on the horse knowing she was awake. It was better to stay silent.
The horse stopped again a few minutes later. She heard the man guiding the horse speaking to someone but she couldn't quite make out what they were saying.
She was not afraid. There was no need for fear. Fear was useless. She had not been afraid since she was a child. And she was not afraid now. She would not give them the pleasure of seeing her quake in fear like a scared little girl. She was a woman. A strong woman and she would not allow them to perceive her any differently.
The man dismounted the horse and approached the back of the wagon. She turned to look at him, not saying a word. “So you're awake. You have been awfully quiet back here little lady” she remained silent.
“I'll let the king decide your fate, you heathen. Follow me, I know you can walk” he stepped aside to allow her to get out of the wagon.
She stood and picked up her helmet, placing it over her head again before jumping from the back of the wagon. The man grabbed her arm hard and dragged her to the largest white tent in the center of the camp. She was still not afraid.
The man pushed her into the tent and bowed his head as two guards ran to grab her arms, holding her in place. She put up no fight.
“My lord, this was the last surviving prisoner from the camp we claimed”. Y/n turned her attention from her captor to the center of the tent.
There were a few guards and some royal officials she recognised from recounts given to her by other soldiers. And in the middle of them all, sat behind a desk was the king of Jerusalem. Baldwin IV. His face was bandaged around his nose, cheeks and forehead, leaving his eyes, brow and mouth exposed as well as the suprisingly soft looking blonde hair that framed his face.
Y/n peered at him from behind the slit in her helmet. She was not afraid of this man. If she could even call him that. To her, he was just a boy. A boy with a filthy disease. He was merely 16, just like her.
He stood from the desk to approach her. She stared at him until he stood feet from her.
“Get on your knees" He commanded.
She did not move. The king gestured to the guards and they shoved her to the ground, one hitting her in the stomach, causing her to groan in pain.
She stared up at him through her brow with rage in her eyes. He had given the command for her camp to be executed. They were dead because of him.
“There is something you should know my lord” her captor chimed in.
The captor stepped forward and placed his hands on either side of her helmet, pulling it from her head dramatically.
Long, black hair fell from the helmet to spill out onto her shoulders. She turned again to look up at the king, a scowl plastered onto her thin, femmine face.
The king's expression changed from one of anger, to one of shock, confusion, and something else she couldn't quite place.
“What is the meaning of this?” a royal adviser called out. “This has to be a mistake, she has to be the wife of a knight who was caught up in this!” another said.
Neither y/n or the king were paying any attention to this pointless banter. They stared at each other with a feeling that neither had ever felt before. Y/n could see him more clearly now. He was actually quite handsome.
A few more stray words were exchanged in shock before Baldwin called for silence. “Release her, now!” he shouted at the guards who still held her in place harshly. They loosened their grip, pulling her to her feet. “We will keep her. As a servant. Her camp was the last and the battle shall be over before sunrise” the king said sternly, eyes never leaving y/n.
As the night wore on, Saladin’s army retreated and y/n’s captors returned to the kingdom, bringing her with them.
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By very early morning y/n was shown to the servants chambers. Now she laid in the small bed, staring at the ceiling. She was not tired in the slightest but she was not permitted to leave the room. The guards that stood outside the door would make sure of that.
She was torn. She wanted to leave, yes. But to return to what? She had no family and all of her friends who didn't even know who she really was were dead. As much as she wanted to leave, there was something that she could not stop thinking about. The long gaze that she had shared with the king.
She still could not quite place how he was feeling when he looked at her. It had her baffled for the first time in her life. Spending so much time around men in the mercenaries meant that she usually knew how to read them very easily, but Baldwin? She had no idea.
On the opposite side of the castle, Baldwin himself was in a very similar situation.
He laid in his bed, staring up at the high ceiling. That young woman had him in a trance. She was beautiful, so beautiful. He did wonder how she managed to get to the battlefield.
Women were not permitted to fight and there was no way she was the wife of one of Saladin’s knights. Perhaps she had snuck into the army? But how?
Unlike y/n, the young king was very tired. He resisted the urge to shut his eyes, he wanted to hold onto the image of her beautiful face for just a moment longer. As he felt his eyes begin to close, one last thought crossed his mind. “I must to speak with her tomorrow”.
It was afternoon by the time Baldwin opened his eyes. The exhaustion from the battle had worn out his body entirely. This rest was much needed. Barely a minute passed since he woke when there was a knock on his bedroom chamber door.
“Come in" he called out, rubbing his eyes. Tiberias pushed open the door and entered slowly. “Good Afternoon my lord” he greeted, bowing his head. “Good afternoon,” Baldwin replied, his words slurred and tired.
“I just wished to see if you were ready to speak with that woman we captured last night? You mentioned you wanted to speak with her on our return to the castle”.
Baldwin sat up straight at the sudden memory of her flooding back, the tiredness leaving his body in a second.
“Yes, of course. Why didn't you remind me earlier?” he stammered out, getting to his feet.
“You were still sleeping my lord. You seemed very tired and I did not want to disturb you”. Tiberias had entered the king's chambers earlier that day to find him still fast asleep. Not wanting to wake him, he told the girl that the king would decide her fate in the afternoon.
“Well I am more than ready to meet with her this instant. Tell the physicians to wait, I must see her”
“Very well my lord” Tiberias replied, leaving the young king to dress himself.
Y/n was still in shackles as Tiberias led her down the corridors, accompanied by two guards. A group of servant women had prepared her change of clothes, telling her that she must look her best to meet with the king alone.
When they reached the kings chambers, the doors were already opend. Y/n could see the king, sitting at his desk with his back to them writing something with a feathered quill. “My lord? I have the girl with me” Tiberias called out.
Baldwin turned to the group and signaled for the guards to leave them. “Release her from the shackles as well” he added. “Are you sure my lord?” one of the guards asked. “Yes, now leave us” he said sternly.
Once y/n was free from the chains, she turned her attention to the king. They were alone now.
Then Baldwin did something she never could have expected. He gave her a warm smile and greeted her with a soft kiss on her hand. “My lady. Please, sit” he gestured to a couch that sat against the wall of the room.
“I must hear about how you came to be in Saladin’s army”.
In return, y/n smiled and took a seat on the couch. Now she knew the emotion he had shown the previous night. It was much easier to see now without confusion and shock shrouding it. He had looked at her with love.
"To be deprived of the use of one's limbs is of little help to one in carrying out the work of government. If I could be cured of the disease of Naaman, I would wash seven times in Jordan, but I have found in the present age no Elisha who can heal me. It is not fitting that a hand so weak as mine should hold power when fear of Arab agression daily presses upon the Holy City and when my sickness increases the enemy's daring... I therefore beg you that, having called together the barons of the kingdom of France, you immediately choose one of them to take charge of this Holy Kingdom. For We are prepared to receive with affection whomever you send Us, and We will hand over the kingdom to a suitable successor." - King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem
