forum King and Consul // OxO with Knightinadream

Started March 09, 2022 by @ElderGod-Icefire

tune

Cool cool, take your time. I'll try to post mine as soon as I can. :)

Alright!

Name: Edward Stuart
Title: King of England (Full: King Edward VII of England, Scotland, and Ireland)
Age: 24
Gender: Cis man
Sexuality: Gay
Appearance: Edward stands at 5'10", with a nicely muscled form. He has a slim waist and a triangular body shape. He has blue eyes the color of forget-me-nots, and golden hair trimmed to a short length. His hair has soft curls in it, and he has a reputation for being very attractive. He has a few scars on his arms and torso from various things, but most of his visible skin is free of scarring or any other such things.
Personality: A quiet, but well-spoken young man, Edward is known for being a careful and thoughtful king. He is also a pious man, who is known to pray for guidance. In private, he retains that quiet, well-spokenness, and likes to read. He is also a kind man, but is also a just man who will not shirk from enforcing the law when necessary.
Background: (a note: I am bending/breaking history with Edward; his father was really succeeded by James II, and had a ton of illegitimate children. I have replaced James with Edward, and gotten rid of the other children) Edward was Charles II's oldest son; he had three other siblings, though his only brother died at three years old, and his sisters have both gotten married by now. His father died when Edward was 17, and Edward assumed the throne a few months later. He had been engaged to a princess of France since he was 3 years old, and once he was on the throne, preparations for the wedding began. The advisors had wanted to have him get married at 13, but his father had not wanted to marry Edward off so young. Edward married his wife, Marie, at the age of 20; it took about three years to get all the details figured out, and then have the wedding ceremony. Edward has been attracted to other men since he was about 14. At least, that was when he realized it. He has had a few dalliances with other men, but it has never been anything but emotional, with very few physical encounters (and never sex), because he hates this portion of himself. He believes it is a sin to be conquered, and other prays for guidance on what he can do to "get rid" of the "sinful impulses". He tries to force himself to be attracted to women, especially his wife, but cannot. It was very difficult for him to consummate the marriage on their wedding night; he had, well, a hard time getting…well. You know. This was because he is not attracted to her. She is beautiful, and he knows that, and he wishes desperately that he was attracted to her, because he does very much like her and care for her, but he can't see her as anything other than a friend and confidant. He had an affair with another man for about a year and a half, when he was 21. That man went on trial six months ago for sodomy, and was found guilty. In a last ditch effort, the nobleman yelled out that he had kissed the king, and if he was to die for it then Edward should too. Edward, at those words, felt like his heart had stopped. The council demanded to know if this was true. Edward forced himself to take a few moments to breathe, before giving an "explanation": he had thought it was only a friendly kiss, thought that it was just to show a brotherly sort of bond, and of course he would never have allowed it, had he known what a disgusting and vile thing this nobleman had had in mind. The explanation was accepted, and the nobleman was executed. That night, Edward cried himself to sleep, terrified of what could have happened to him and what did happen to the man he had cared about. Since then, he has not been involved with anyone, and has instead tried to pray and suppress away the attractions that he feels, and devote himself to his wife instead.
Other: ~

Name: Sabbas Desiderio Valiente Medina
Title: Sir Valiente Medina or just Sir Valiente
Age: 25
Gender: Cis male (He/Him)
Sexuality: Bisexual
Appearance: If it is not for his personality or skills, Sabba always stands out due to his looks. He is a pretty tall man, standing roughly around six foot one or two, and has an athletic body. His wavy oily hair is jet black; it is long, pushed back, and parts down the middle. His eyes are dark brown, but they appear to be black most of the time. Sabba has warm beige skin along with sharp facial features; most of his features come from his mother.
Personality: Most people tend to either think Sabbas is peculiar or fall for his charms. Despite being a tad bit cynical, he is ambitious and relatively wise for his age. He knows that he is smart and handsome, but he also knows that people fall for him; sometimes he uses that to his benefit. A natural observer, he likes to take care of conflicts at hand with confidence. He is very passionate about his work and just about anything he's interested in. Very trustworthy if he believes that one deserves his loyalty; definitely a person to come to confine in. Sabba is cool-headed for the better part, but that's mainly because he doesn't know how to be anything else. What many don't know is that what they see of him is just an outer shell.
Background: Sabba was born in Málaga, Spain as a result of an affair. His father, Lord Valiente Castilla, fell in love with his mother who is a Moorish (Morrocan) peasant. Azahara, his mother, asked his uncle to adopt him because she did not want him to be killed by his father or to be on the streets. His uncle, who is way more kind than his older brother, and aunt decided to adopt him. If anyone asked about him, Sir Valiente and his wife would say that Sabba was their own biological son. They truly call him as their own.

Despite having a rough beginning, he had a relatively nice childhood. Of course he knew that his aunt and uncle were not his true parents and his older siblings are his cousins, but Sabba considered them to be his parents and brother and sisters. Sabba mostly spent time with his siblings if he was not with a tutor. He did spend time with uncle a lot, especially since the man wanted him to be strong and protect himself against anything.

"Sabba, you are not like the others. One foolish move, and you are done for." That is what his uncle had told him when he was ten and those words had seared into his heart. He went on to study in Madrid where he studied international politics and English. When he was nineteen, his real father had passed away and his uncle had finally become the duke which helped Sabba's reputation. He already had a good one, but his uncle becoming the duke was really beneficial. Maybe wooing some officials and their daughters also were too.

When it comes to international diplomacy, he wanted to become an ambassador or a consular to the Ottoman Empire. As he continued to impress the king, queen, and everyone else on the court, he began learning Arabic and Turkish in hopes of getting what he wanted the most. Much to his dismay, the king made him the ambassador to Great Britain and now he is not very happy, although he prays that everything will be fine.
Other: N/A I suppose

The palace was holding a new ball. This one didn't have any specific purpose; it was just a ball. Edward had let Marie handle most of the organization. She enjoyed doing it, and she was good at it, so he had decided why not. He arrived to it with her, together. They always did. They were married. As was custom, they had separate bedchambers. The problem that this caused, however, was that it became all the more obvious that Edward did not visit Marie's bed as often as he should. He was her husband, and yet they had only been together carnally once, on their wedding night. That night remained the night that had been the scariest, in his mind. There had been witnesses. He had had to stare down at this beautiful young woman on the bed, and pray that he would be able to perform the way a king was expected to, when he was not attracted to her. It had been a terrifying thing. His advisors were pressuring him to produce an heir, and there were so many nights that he spend pacing his own bedchambers, trying to get up the courage to go to hers to try to have an heir. He knew it was necessary, and yet the idea of trying terrified him in ways he could barely consider. What if he tried and then couldn't go through with the act? There were already rumors spreading that the king was incapable of having children, as the very few times he had visited Marie he had barely been able to finish.

It was all making him miserable, and he found he was spending more and more time in the castle's private chapel. It was quiet and peaceful in there, and he could think and pray and beg God to take away this attraction that he felt, begging for the attraction to be transferred to his wife. Not even to all women. Just to the wife he had married and cared about and wanted to do right by. But he would be the best husband he could, while hoping and praying that the way he felt would change. However, the longer it didn't, the more he worried that perhaps it never would.

His arm was linked with Marie's as they entered the ball together, the herald announcing their arrival by listing off their full titles. Both had very long titles; Marie's was just as long as his due to her status as a French princess. Their child, if they had one, would have claim to France. Edward's gaze flickered out over the large gathering of nobility, mainly English but also a smattering of other nations.

Todos los caminos llevan a Roma. All roads lead to Rome, and yet somehow, his lead him to a ballroom of the British Empire's king. How can he ever fulfill his dreams here? Why here? People dressed in extravagant clothing, talking in somewhat perfect but fluent English. Some were dancing on top of the marble floors while others, including himself, were on the sides either watching or talking to other people as they drank from wine glasses. Beautiful chandeliers hung above their heads while mellifluous string music filled the air. Sabbas was alone, standing near the left side of the ballroom as he observed the scene that was playing out in front of him.

Despite living in the palace for the last week or so, he never had the time to meet with the king. Instead he was greeted by other ambassadors and curious officials or nobles who wanted to see this young Spaniard who has the same, if not possibly more, influence as them. Sabbas did not mind this at all for he thought that it kept his mind off of all the anxieties he has. Although when his servant came rushing down the hall with an invitation from the king, he knew that it was officially time to make his presence known to everyone, including His Majesty.

In all honesty, he really has no idea what the king looks like. Whatever he knows about the monarch's appearance either comes from others' words or the paintings that he sees around the palace. He does not really trust paintings though; a paint brush can never truly capture the aura of a person in his opinion. Personalities are thicker than paint after all. Nevertheless, Sabbas knew that his prejudices about the king and everything else might be useless, but he does not care. He feels like a black sheep in a field full of white sheep; he must use it to his advantage.

And that is why he is here now. All dressed up in elegant Spanish crimson velvet attire with a transparent statuesque face. Out of nowhere, all sounds had come to a halt as the herald announced the king and queen's presence. He tried getting a glimpse, but ended up bowing along with everyone else. On the other hand, with caution, his chin titled up from the floor a little to get a gaze of those piercing blue eyes before he made contact with the floor again.

(btw do you have any triggers or things you would like to avoid? Personally I don't, but I'd like to check in with you)

Edward looked out at the sea of brightly dressed people, his blue eyes studying all of the nobles that had attended. He knew quite a few were not his people; most of the ambassadors had been invited, including the Spanish one that he had yet to meet. Relations with Spain were currently very tumultuous. The country was not happy with his marriage to a French Princess. They were concerned that this marriage would upset the balance of the continent, and could lead to an overturn of their country in the future. There was also, of course, the conflict surrounding the colonies as well. Spain was getting rich off of the gold flowing from the new world, and, to be frank, Edward was not happy about it. England's colonies, in the north, were less prosperous, and their southern colonies were still being established. Besides, the southern colonies of England gave things like tobacco and cotton, rather than gold. Most island colonies were plagued with pirates, and the Empire's long arm had a hard time reaching those pirates, despite their navy.

All this considered, he knew that his first meeting with the ambassador needed to happen soon, and it needed to happen in a good way. He could not afford to alienate the ambassador. Doing so could lead to war. He would prefer to avoid war. There was already conflict within the British Empire. Any Empire of its size and reach was bound to have conflict, but it was difficult. There were problems in India, problems in the colonies, and even problems here at home.

He shook away the thoughts, giving his queen a soft smile, and gesturing for everyone to get back up and resume the party. He would dance with the queen first, obviously. He had no idea if he would choose to dance with anyone else. Dancing with other women sometimes caused rumors of mistresses. Which wasn't ideal, given the whispers that he was ignoring his queen.

(Off the top of my head, I don't believe that I have any. If I do think of anything, I'll let you know. Also, I'm slightly bending history with the Hapsburgs ruling the Spanish Empire by creating a new royal family. I hope that's okay.)

This is it. This is his chance. A ball is more than a perfect setting to introduce himself to King Edward. His uncle always told him that introductions were as vital as a battalion of highly skilled men. The duke also said it's always best to have on in an area where the atmosphere is good and there's plenty of people to see; that way his impression can create waves among everyone in the area. Diplomacy these days, certainly, has its ways.

Especially with the inner turmoil at home, the slight decline in progress, and the rising empire in the new world, he has to make a lasting impression that will help him. If not for Spain or King Francisco, but for his own personal reputation. Something about showing these British that he, along with the Spanish Empire, is a force to be reckoned with. He is, he knows it well more than anything else.

Sabbas stood back up along with everyone else. Just as people went back to dancing or talking to others, he turned his head to get a better glimpse at the king and queen. Nothing in his facial expression changed except for his eyes squinting. His hands were crossed behind his back as he curiously stared at the blue eyed monarch. He could swear that they practically look like jewels or the water from the beaches back at home.

With a small shake of his head, he went to watching those dancing. The young lady to which whom he was talking to awhile ago had walked away from her previous dance partner only to show up in front of him. Sabbas looked over at the king, but then soon extended his hand out to the lady, leading her to the dance floor.

(alright! And yeah lol that's fine, I've already bent it quite a bit with Edward and Marie lol)

Edward released Marie's arm, taking a step so that he could give her a light bow. She was the only person on this earth that he would ever bow to; save for the pope, if he ever met the man. Other than the pope, though, his queen was the only person he would bow to. Kings did not bow to each other, and they did not bow to anyone below them in rank, either. "Would you do me the honor of a dance, my lady?" he asked, looking up at her with a small smile on his face. He knew she would accept; she had to, really. He was just glad she did not despise him for not being the husband she had likely wanted him to be.

She smiled back, dipping into a curtsy and then taking his outstretched hand. "But of course, my lord." she replied, and he led her out onto the dance floor. They both were wearing crowns, to help them stand out from the crowd. Not that they needed that. They already did. Her gown was a gorgeous cream tone, with purple detailing. His short cape was purple on the underside and black on the top, and also features some blues and whites to help coordinate the two outfits. Purple was the color of royalty; no one else here would be wearing it, or if they were it was with express permission. His sisters, for instance, would both have some touches of purple or royal blue somewhere in their garments. Their husbands likely would as well.

Dancing has always been a favorite of Sabbas. It is so much like fencing in that there is nuance and one can use the activity for some relative gain. On the other hand, he just enjoyed dancing for the sake of it. Letting his body sway and move around with his partner while the music carried their feet to its beat is a completely different feeling in its own. Even his aunt said that it is more whimsical when you do it with the one meant to be with you.

Here and there, him and his partner exchanged some words; mostly just flirtation and sweet nothings. Every now and then, he would glance over at the king and queen for a few seconds. Sometimes his gaze would linger longer than he wanted it to. The window of opportunity is right there for him; if he is too late, then God only knows what will happen.

"What is the matter, Sir?" The lady asked. Her jade eyes looked at him until he decided to gaze into them.

A gentle smile rested upon his face. "Nothing, mi amada," He reassured, watching as she smiled back. His voice is deep, smoky with dulcet undertones. Even while speaking slowly in English, it is still the same. "I am terribly sorry, love, for my mind must be preoccupied with worry. I worry what His Majesty will think of me. Besides, mi amada, it is my first ball in this country with such a beautiful rose as yourself."

She lightly laughed with a shake of her head. Taking his hand set on her side, she placed it against her hip. "Oh, you have nothing to worry for my good Sir. Despite the differences, I believe His Majesty will think kindly of you. He is a reasonable man after all."

Sabbas pulled her closer. "I suppose you are right, mi amada. Hopefully he is as kind as you are." They stopped talking and danced for the rest of the song. Still, he stole another glance, looking over his shoulder at His Majesty.

When the dance ended, Edward led Marie from the dance floor and over to the side, where some of her ladies in waiting were standing and talking with each other, heavy skirts swishing with each movement. He gave the group a faint smile. "I give my wife into your capable hands." he said, giving Marie a soft, slightly teasing look. "Mademoiselle."

She rolled her eyes. "My thanks, husband." she laughed a little bit. "Now go do your talking. I am sure everyone here is dying to speak with you."

He smiled, inclining his head to her. "As always, I must bow to your superior wisdom." their words were half for the ladies watching, and half just for each other. They got along so well, despite the fact that he knew she must know that he did not care for her in the way a husband should care for his wife. But he got along with her nontheless, and for that fact he was forever grateful. He turned away and began to mingle with the crowd, greeting nobles and dignitaries, conversing easily with them.

Letting go of his partner, he gave a bow while she stood back and curtsied. They both stood up at the same time with soft gleams on their faces. Sabbas had to stop for a moment as strands of hair fell in front of his eyes.

The noble lady walked up, then brushed them off to the sides. Her chin turned to the right, watching as there was a group surrounding the king and queen. The two could hear light laughter. She stepped back, "Well, you seem to be the kind of man who knows how to ease his worries."

Sabbas let his gaze wander over to the group for a moment. He sighed to himself before smirking. "And what if, I do not, mi amada?" With his hands behind his back, he took a step closer.

She matched his expression, but took a deep breath of her own. "Hmmm….I suppose I will see you after this ball is over then, good Sir." After saying the last word, she gave a wink then walked over to some ladies.

He laughed to himself, watching as some of them curiously looked over at him. Not even a second later, his attention focused on the king, who was going around and talking to other people. Sabbas took a few steps closer, but still remained far away. He is a Spaniard after all, even if he is the ambassador to the Spanish Empire. It will take awhile for him to speak with King Edward, although he does not want to waste himself by stepping forward. His opportunity will present itself any moment now; he can feel it in his heart.

Edward was kind and courteous to those he interacted with, his demeanor calm and pleasant. It would do no one good to be the kind of king that stormed and raged and paced violently back and forht. Instead, he would solve any issues that arose as calmly as possible. Perhaps if he was a good king, God would take away these attractions he still felt, these attractions that God hated and that he knew were sinful and wrong, no matter what his heart said. Did not the bible say that the longings of the heart were evil?

He wanted to be a good king. And he would be. He would make sure of it. So he smiled and laughed and spoke with the various nobles and courtiers that were attending the ball, hands either loose by his sides, or gesturing, or held lightly behind his back. Crossing his arms would not be a good look, so he did not do so, even if sometimes he wanted to.

Time felt as if it was dragging its feet along the floor as he waited. Pressure arose in his chest causing him to take long deep exhales. The words of his uncle flooded his mind while he took a few steps closer. His Majesty was not that far from him now. In a matter of moments, he will be finding himself bowing to the English monarch.

Keep your enemies close to you… The words swirled around his head. Sabbas clasped his hands, as if he were praying, and briefly looked up at the ceiling. Rarely does he ever ask for God's help in a time like this, but when has he ever gone through a situation such as this? This is not no ordinary man or noble. It is King Edward, the king of the British Empire. The monarch he is to work with, to keep relations between the empires warm and well. Oh great heavens help him.

Once he finished whispering to himself a simple Our Father, he kept his hands behind his back. His face remained warm yet nonchalant. The music was drowned out by the sounds of the beating drum in his chest. Sabbas could not even register the sounds of talking and laughter. He kept his gaze on those dancing while he thought of all the things he planned to say. All the things he has been waiting for since the moment he stepped foot on the ship set for London.

Edward finally reached the Spanish consular, and his steady, blue-eyed gaze met Sabbas' calmly. Edward rather wished he had had the chance to speak with the Spaniard before now, but the opportunity simply had not arisen. Most of his days were very busy, and he so often found himself using free time to visit the chapel and pray. There was a reason he had a reputation as a very pious, godly king. He prayed so often, and was in the church so often, that people couldn't help but notice. In a more derogatory manner, some called him the friar or monk king, saying that he may as well have been celibate. That he should not have been king if he would not bed his wife in the manner required of kings. But even then, he was pious, and that garnered him at least a modicum of respect from the god-fearing. The church officials loved his piousness; it garnered them more money from the crown.

Sabbas had heard many things about King Edward, and yet, he pushed most of them to the back of his mind. Despite hearing good about the monarch, he was told about the piety and the oddity of not bedding the queen ever since marriage. Based on his own personal manners, it was strange, although, he ignored it simply because he believed that it was not of his matter to keep it in attention. Rumors are rumors after all, and naturally, every court has its own.

The moment His Majesty had approached him, his eyes gazed back at those blue eyes. Even in Madrid, he had never seen such pupils before. Nevertheless, he could not let his eyes linger on the king for long. He was taught that it is foolish to be in the presence of others, especially those higher than yourself, while acting as idle as water by the oceanside. Never be idle in front of a king, always try to be just below their grandeur. Be present.

"It is an honor to be in your elegant presence, Your Majesty," He said, slowly. His accent was mildly thick, making him carefully waltz through each word. The corners of his lips turned up into a professional grin. Gracefully, he lightly pressed his right arm in front of him as he fully bowed in front of the king. "My name is Sabbas Desiderio Valiente Medina, though you may call me Sir Valiente, your consul to the Spanish Empire. I am elated to finally meet you, Your Majesty."

Edward studied him closely for a long moment, nodding slightly. "I am pleased to be able to make your acquaintance, sir Valiente." he offered no explanation for the delay; kings did not need to explain themselves, and this was no exception. Explanations would make him seem weak, and as if he was making excuses, neither of which was an impression that he sought to give. "I trust that your stay has so far been pleasant?" he knew that the consul had not been here for a very long time yet, but he wanted to ensure that the rooms the man had been given were satisfactory. If they were not, that could be mended. "If it has not, please make my steward aware of it, and it shall be amended."

The grin on his face grew a bit solemn. Nevertheless, his eyes were lit with excitement and interest. "My stay has been much more than pleasant. I already feel as if I am at home." It is true; necessarily, he would not dare to lie to the king. For it has been seven days since he had first arrived. His chamber and rooms were more than suitable for him; a home away from home. There is even a rose bush outside the window in his bed chamber. The servants did their jobs wonderfully, although they were often confused when he accidentally would switch from English to Spanish.

Sabbas shook his head. "No need to, although I thank you, Your Majesty, for your grace is immeasurable." Holding his hands in front of him, he stole a longer glance at King Edward. "I know it may not be appropriate to bring business and political matters to a ballroom, but, I am looking forward to working for you. Your Majesty, I am the best man in this field and I will do my best to serve you and King Francisco. Please do let me know if you need anything, my king; I shall respond faster than the lightening."

Edward nodded slightly. "Of course. I am glad to hear that. And I look forward to working with you as well; I have no wish for war between our countries." he really did not. He had enough difficulties with the Irish and the Welsh, adding in foreign troubles would only further complicate the matter, though the whole business with the colonies was…well, it was delicate. Though this ball was neither the time, nor the place, to bring any of this up.

"I can assure you that witnessing our two great empires going to war is something I would rather not wish to see," Sabbas assured. "After all, it is my duty to bring and implicate peace to Great Britain and Spain. This shall not be a problem, I pray. I wish to allieviate stress, not to mention, stress off of the shoulders of you, King Francisco and the rest of the European continent." Spain could not afford having another war. After the last ones they have gone through, it would more than foolish to enter another one, especially with their main adversary: the British. Besides Spain has enough troubles going through a slight decline, though he will never be admitting to it while he is consul. Luckily, they have him there representing the entire empire. If he may be honest, he appreciated how King Edward gently breached the topic of war. Not to fully press onto it nor dancing around it as if it did not exist, but to acknowledge it in a calming way. "If I may say, Your Majesty, I suppose some of what your subjects have told me are true. You are a gentle, reasonable king. Very kind nonetheless."