With You, I’ll be Only Sibylla (Part 7)

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything that you recognize. Kingdom of Heaven belongs to Sir Ridley Scott, William Monahan, and history.

 

Warning: Implications of adult material

 

Chapter 7: A Princess’ Decision

The sight of Jerusalem greeted her; the open gates were like the jaws of an ancient monstrosity. She had no desire to go in, to be embroiled in that seething cauldron of politics again, but what choice did she have. Her blood had doomed her from her birth. She was a princess. She was a political pawn. Sibylla glanced at the still form of her brother on his litter. He had always been her shield, trying to protect her from all the dangerous intricacies of court life, but now he was dying. To whom would he pass this mantle of protector? In her mind, there was only one candidate. She risked looking backwards, past Guy, and at the unimposing figure of Balian. He gave her a small smile and then resumed his conversation with Tiberias.

 

His presence made Sibylla feel a bit safer in her own city. If she could have her way, then he would be her Champion. The noises and smells of Jerusalem washed over her, bringing her back to reality. The lords and knights began to disperse to go to their houses in the city. Balian and his men broke off relatively early to ride back to Balian’s house. The servants no doubt would be unprepared for their master’s arrival.

 

The palace was dark, even though the servants had lit all the torches. The king was quickly carried to his own chambers. The Saracen physicians, sent by Saladin himself, followed, along with Bishop Heraclius, the patriarch of Jerusalem. Sibylla was left alone to find her own way back to her apartments, not that she actually needed an escort. Guy brushed past her and disappeared into the dimness of the corridors. They had not spoken during the entire journey back to Jerusalem. She cared not. There was nothing to say. He had his way of life; she had hers.

With You, I’ll Be Only Sibylla (Part 5)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, the plot, or anything. All of Kingdom of Heaven belongs to Sir Ridley Scott and William Monahan, and History.

 

Warning: Implications of adult themes

Chapter 5: The World Will Decide

 

Sibylla lay awake, staring into the darkness. Beside her, Balian lay slumbering, his chest rising and falling with deep even breaths. The sheets were twisted from their lovemaking. The princess’ hair lay loose on the pillow. She glanced outside. A full moon had risen; pale, round, perfect, save for the darker smudges which marked its face. It was like the all-seeing eye of God.

 

What had she done? She’d committed adultery with a man she hardly knew. And yet, she knew very well that she loved him. How else could she explain her feelings? His very presence warmed her heart. He made her feel cherished, precious. He made her feel human, instead of just a figurehead or a pawn which was to be used in the struggle for power. Balian cared nothing for the power which a relationship with her would bring. She knew he loved her, even though he’d never told her.

With You, I’ll Be Only Sibylla (Part 4)

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters. They all belong to the creators of the movie, Kingdom of Heaven, and God.

Warning: Implications of adult content

Chapter 4: There is Only Light

 

The rooms were simple, with only basic furnishing. Godfrey had not been a man for ornamentation, and his son was even less so. Sibylla smiled as she took in her rooms. Balian had given her the master suite. The lack of decoration was a refreshing change. There was no clutter here, no dark secrets. Ibelin was an innocent, just like its master. She had her maids bring in flowers to freshen the air. The room itself smelled of a man; of sweat, dust and masculine musk.

 

Youmna helped her to change out of her dusty travelling gown. Curtains were drawn around the balcony, veiling the princess from prying eyes as she bathed. Sibylla watched her maids bustling about, rearranging things to her tastes. Balian had said that they could do whatever they wanted with this suite. She sat with her feet in a basin of water with rose oil floating on the surface, forming a swirling rainbow. The sound of work and construction filtered in from outside; shouts of men, speaking both in Arabic and Latin. Sibylla stood. Making sure that her towel was wrapped securely around her naked body, she stepped over to the hand-carved windows, leaving a trail of wet footprints in her wake.