FrostyPen23
Writer
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2023
- Posts
- 1
Hello! I'm seeking a female partner for a medieval/fantasy & incest taboo story. Here are the first few establishing paragraphs:
King Tarik of Rovania had a secret. Many moons ago, when he had been only the young prince, he had taken a poor peasant woman to bed. And not just any plain peasant woman--she had possessed a smile that could disarm your heart and a body that could enflame your passions. In a word, she was stunningly beautiful. Her name was Freya, and he had been smitten with her as soon as he had cast his gaze upon her, and she with him.
After bedding her the first time, he would often sneak out of the city walls to the small village where she lived to meet her. They would make love when no one else was around, or sneak into the woods to couple amongst the trees. Their tryst was full of passion and ecstasy, but unfortunately it wasn't meant to last. They both knew their stations in life. Eventually he would become king, and she would remain a peasant until old age took her. He would never be able to keep her. Duty to the realm demanded it.
They took solace in each other's arms, despite that being the very thing driving them apart. It seemed almost fated, then, on that cold autumn night when he arrived at her door only to find her belly swollen with child.
"Is it mine?" he asked naively. She confirmed that it was. She had told the rest of the village a tale of some fisherman from far off lands, and they seemed to buy it. The next few months were a blur for Tarik.
Freya thankfully gave birth without much trouble, and she was able to care for the infant--a healthy girl. Tarik was elated. His very own child, born out of true love even if he could never claim her. She even resembled her mother, the most beautiful woman he had ever known. But this story didn't have a happy ending.
Freya died in a massacre. A roving band of orcs, hungry for death and suffering, killed her swiftly with a rusted blade. But the infant was hidden well under the floor boards, and her life was spared.
Tarik hunted down each and every last orc, slaughtering them like beasts. However, his anguish over the loss of his love never went away. When he finally returned to the castle, a man he recognized from his lover's village was waiting for him. In the basket he carried was a crying babe. It was at that moment that Tarik realized his child, his only remaining bond to Freya, had survived.
"Please, my lord, we cannot care for the child. Will the crown please protect her?" he asked.
Tarik swore to care for the girl, to raise her in the court so that she might never know the destitution of poverty. To give her the life he could never give her mother.
The promise was upheld, and the girl was raised a courtier of the highest esteem, and even gifted titles and nobility. Many wondered, quite suspiciously, why the young princeling took such interest in this poor peasant girl, but none would ever know the truth. Not even his wife, the princess Aemma, or the several children she produced for him.
On his 38th birthday, Tarik ascended to the throne. His father had finally passed on to their ancestors, having lived a good and full life. Now King, he had the fiat to do what he pleased. And the first thing he did was visit his daughter.
"[your name]," he said to her, kneeling down at the foot of her bed. "I have something to share with you."
She was old enough now to learn the true story of her birth, of her mother, and of the reason she now lived here in the castle with him. She seemed at first to be in shock, but eventually she regained her composure. They embraced, this time as father and daughter. As family.
"But remember," Tarik warned her, "Nobody must ever know the truth. You must never share this secret with another living soul. Understood?"
She nodded. She did understand, and for the next several years she continued to play the part of an orphan girl to perfection. With her father's discreet instruction, he made sure she was well educated and clever enough to survive court politics. But there was a new problem brewing. She had turned 18 and had come of age, and she was now sought after by many in the realm for her lands and titles.
Tarik could not stand the thought of losing her to some upstart aristocrat in a far corner of his domain. He desired for her to stay near, to remain in his court under his watch until the end of his days. [Your name] desired this, too. She shared her worries with her father about being taken far away, about never getting to see him again. He held her closely and promised her she would never be taken from him again.
That is when the strange feelings began. [Your name] had grown into quite the woman, much like her mother before her. The resemblance was uncanny to Tarik. Her full breasts, her plump rear, even the way her golden hair fell upon her shoulders--she was a spitting image of the woman he had lost all those years ago. It wasn't just the wealth her suitors were after, he admitted to himself. She was truly gorgeous.
But this angered him. He felt a deep sense of jealousy. No other man would ever claim her, at least not under his nose. He felt disgusted with himself for thinking this way about his daughter, but the way she reminded him of Freya clouded his judgement.
He remembered the look on her face when she appeared at the door to his bed chambers, summoned by one of his aids.
"Shut the door, we are alone," he said. The fire crackled in the hearth.
He sat down next to her on his bed.
"I think I've come up with a solution, a way to keep you here with me."
He could see the excitement light up her eyes.
"Since nobody can know of your true lineage, perhaps we can tell one more lie. As you know, my wife, the Queen Aemma, has yet to bear me an heir. As is custom, I can take additional wives if no trueborn son has been delivered within five years of marriage. [Your name], do you understand what I'm proposing...?"
Tarik couldn't tell what his daughter was thinking. Such an unusual arrangement had only occurred a handful of times in the kingdom's history, usually as a response to turmoil in the dynasty. It wasn't quite frowned upon, but it certainly wasn't common or acceptable among the normalfolk. To have a secret like this be exposed would have been political suicide, at any rate.
But, it was the only way forward Tarik could think of. The only way to truly protect his daughter. He would deal with the other problems later--those were for him to worry about once she had been secured by his side. Sure, people would begin to wonder strange thoughts if she didn't share a bedroom with the king, nor began to produce him children. But he would find a way through. He always did.
King Tarik of Rovania had a secret. Many moons ago, when he had been only the young prince, he had taken a poor peasant woman to bed. And not just any plain peasant woman--she had possessed a smile that could disarm your heart and a body that could enflame your passions. In a word, she was stunningly beautiful. Her name was Freya, and he had been smitten with her as soon as he had cast his gaze upon her, and she with him.
After bedding her the first time, he would often sneak out of the city walls to the small village where she lived to meet her. They would make love when no one else was around, or sneak into the woods to couple amongst the trees. Their tryst was full of passion and ecstasy, but unfortunately it wasn't meant to last. They both knew their stations in life. Eventually he would become king, and she would remain a peasant until old age took her. He would never be able to keep her. Duty to the realm demanded it.
They took solace in each other's arms, despite that being the very thing driving them apart. It seemed almost fated, then, on that cold autumn night when he arrived at her door only to find her belly swollen with child.
"Is it mine?" he asked naively. She confirmed that it was. She had told the rest of the village a tale of some fisherman from far off lands, and they seemed to buy it. The next few months were a blur for Tarik.
Freya thankfully gave birth without much trouble, and she was able to care for the infant--a healthy girl. Tarik was elated. His very own child, born out of true love even if he could never claim her. She even resembled her mother, the most beautiful woman he had ever known. But this story didn't have a happy ending.
Freya died in a massacre. A roving band of orcs, hungry for death and suffering, killed her swiftly with a rusted blade. But the infant was hidden well under the floor boards, and her life was spared.
Tarik hunted down each and every last orc, slaughtering them like beasts. However, his anguish over the loss of his love never went away. When he finally returned to the castle, a man he recognized from his lover's village was waiting for him. In the basket he carried was a crying babe. It was at that moment that Tarik realized his child, his only remaining bond to Freya, had survived.
"Please, my lord, we cannot care for the child. Will the crown please protect her?" he asked.
Tarik swore to care for the girl, to raise her in the court so that she might never know the destitution of poverty. To give her the life he could never give her mother.
The promise was upheld, and the girl was raised a courtier of the highest esteem, and even gifted titles and nobility. Many wondered, quite suspiciously, why the young princeling took such interest in this poor peasant girl, but none would ever know the truth. Not even his wife, the princess Aemma, or the several children she produced for him.
On his 38th birthday, Tarik ascended to the throne. His father had finally passed on to their ancestors, having lived a good and full life. Now King, he had the fiat to do what he pleased. And the first thing he did was visit his daughter.
"[your name]," he said to her, kneeling down at the foot of her bed. "I have something to share with you."
She was old enough now to learn the true story of her birth, of her mother, and of the reason she now lived here in the castle with him. She seemed at first to be in shock, but eventually she regained her composure. They embraced, this time as father and daughter. As family.
"But remember," Tarik warned her, "Nobody must ever know the truth. You must never share this secret with another living soul. Understood?"
She nodded. She did understand, and for the next several years she continued to play the part of an orphan girl to perfection. With her father's discreet instruction, he made sure she was well educated and clever enough to survive court politics. But there was a new problem brewing. She had turned 18 and had come of age, and she was now sought after by many in the realm for her lands and titles.
Tarik could not stand the thought of losing her to some upstart aristocrat in a far corner of his domain. He desired for her to stay near, to remain in his court under his watch until the end of his days. [Your name] desired this, too. She shared her worries with her father about being taken far away, about never getting to see him again. He held her closely and promised her she would never be taken from him again.
That is when the strange feelings began. [Your name] had grown into quite the woman, much like her mother before her. The resemblance was uncanny to Tarik. Her full breasts, her plump rear, even the way her golden hair fell upon her shoulders--she was a spitting image of the woman he had lost all those years ago. It wasn't just the wealth her suitors were after, he admitted to himself. She was truly gorgeous.
But this angered him. He felt a deep sense of jealousy. No other man would ever claim her, at least not under his nose. He felt disgusted with himself for thinking this way about his daughter, but the way she reminded him of Freya clouded his judgement.
He remembered the look on her face when she appeared at the door to his bed chambers, summoned by one of his aids.
"Shut the door, we are alone," he said. The fire crackled in the hearth.
He sat down next to her on his bed.
"I think I've come up with a solution, a way to keep you here with me."
He could see the excitement light up her eyes.
"Since nobody can know of your true lineage, perhaps we can tell one more lie. As you know, my wife, the Queen Aemma, has yet to bear me an heir. As is custom, I can take additional wives if no trueborn son has been delivered within five years of marriage. [Your name], do you understand what I'm proposing...?"
Tarik couldn't tell what his daughter was thinking. Such an unusual arrangement had only occurred a handful of times in the kingdom's history, usually as a response to turmoil in the dynasty. It wasn't quite frowned upon, but it certainly wasn't common or acceptable among the normalfolk. To have a secret like this be exposed would have been political suicide, at any rate.
But, it was the only way forward Tarik could think of. The only way to truly protect his daughter. He would deal with the other problems later--those were for him to worry about once she had been secured by his side. Sure, people would begin to wonder strange thoughts if she didn't share a bedroom with the king, nor began to produce him children. But he would find a way through. He always did.
