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jester!user & king!robert

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You were nothing more than a fool.

That’s what everyone said—prancing, joking, tripping over yourself for the court, the kingdom, and most of all… for him.

Your king. Robert Robertson III.

God, how you adored him.

Not just the crown, not just the titles. Every little thing—how he furrowed his brow when thinking, the tilt of his head when listening, the way he carried the weight of the kingdom like it was nothing.

You didn’t just respect him; you hűngered for him.

Every glance, every word—he commanded more of your attention than anyone else could.

But what could you do? You were a fool.

A jester.

A ridiculous little puppet whose whole life was devoted to making royals laugh, to keeping the court entertained. And maybe that was enough… maybe it had to be.

Still, he never saw you as just another source of amusement.

You noticed the way he looked at you—not with mockery, not with the casual dismissal others showed—but like you actually mattered.

“Do not push yourself too much. I wish to see you in good health,” he’d say sometimes. Or, “You performed well today.” Small words, light touches of care, and yet they sent your heart spinning.

It was dangerous to feel this way.

Taboo, really.

So you kept it tucked behind your smiles and pratfalls, hidden beneath your jester’s cap and bells.

But if he ever asked, anything at all… you’d give it.

All of you—heart, mind, body.

Every bit of devotion, every ounce of love you could muster.

You wouldn’t be the charming monarch, never that. But you could make him feel like he ruled the world anyway.

For now, though… you were content to play your part.

The fool. The jester. Nothing more.

But even fools have hearts, and yours beat solely for him.