A/N: Thanks again to my wonderful beta, CanaceErinn. I also want to say to those who have read the previous chapters and left reviews…Thanks for all of the great reviews and kind words! I appreciate all of you very much. As for the reviewers who insist on raking me over the coals, all I have to say is this: I write for myself and my friends, who enjoy reading my works and believe in me. To me, that's all that matters in the whole scheme of things, anyway. I'm sorry you don't understand that this in all in fun, no matter what the situation may be. As for whether any research has been done on this, I must assure you that much reading and research has been done on this ruler and his specific time period; however, as some might realize, it is often difficult to bottle someone's personality in a book written centuries later. Unless there are writings from someone who knew the king personally or his own personal journals, I don't know how anyone can sit there and proclaim they know his personality better than anyone else. To address another point that seems to keep arising, I do not mention Phantom of the Opera anywhere in this fic and for people to proclaim that this is nothing more than a knock-off of that story, obviously have not read the previous two chapters. If you are attached to Baldwin, as some are, and are convinced what I'm doing is wrong, there's nothing that says you have to read this; I'm not forcing anyone to read. Please, if my writing bothers you that much that you feel you must be downright mean and hateful to me, don't waste your time reading any further. Just so you all know, I do not intend to stop writing this at all. Ms. Numbers
Rising even earlier than the day before, Baldwin watched the sun rise from the balcony of his chambers. He remembered seeing this moment for the first time many years before, when he was but a child contemplating his future. As the years progressed and his destiny became more defined, the young Baldwin realized that his future would not be found beyond the sunrises or sunsets but here in the palace, as he was to take the place of his father as king of Jerusalem.
With the leprosy taking his life each minute of every day, Baldwin could only dream of what his life might have been had he not been stricken with the disease at such a young age. Here he was at twenty-four years of age and he had never been in the company of a woman, nor would he ever be. Certainly, he could bed some unsuspecting woman that he had ordered to come to his side, but in all good conscience, he would never be able to do so. Baldwin simply cared about his subjects too much to ever force himself on a woman like that; all things considered, he still believed that if he were to ever enter into that ultimate display of love, it had to be with someone that loved him…and could see past the deformities.
Staring at his gloved hand, Baldwin thought about everything that had occurred in his ten year reign as king; he had defended Jerusalem against all attackers, all who wished to crush the city located in the middle of the Holy Lands. He had performed his royal duties to the best of his ability, even with the leprosy constantly at the back of his mind. Everything he had been trained for…the peace keeping, treaties, the defense of Jerusalem…had been done with the help of his advisors, but all decisions had been his and his alone. As the ruling king, he was constantly surrounded by delegates, foreign adversaries, diplomats, traders, and his ever faithful advisors.
Would that be his legacy? Or would he be remembered simply for his leprosy?
With that thought, Baldwin decided to take a walk in his gardens. He went over to the rack where his outer robe hung, lifted it carefully off the knob, and placed it around his slight shoulders. Adjusting the mask just so, he wrapped his long fingers around the cloth that he would place on his head; at his mirror, he positioned it so that it would cover as much of the silver mask as possible. With only the facial portion of the mask exposed, Baldwin gave a sigh and headed down to the gardens.
A powerful figure in his finery, Baldwin paused slightly on the stairs and looked below onto the level below him. The servants scurried about getting the household ready for the day…preparing the morning meal, lighting the fires, waking the rest of the household. Slowly descending the staircase, he wanted to blend into the morning rituals without being noticed. How could he though? Just once, he wanted to gather the wood and light a fire, or take the eggs between his fingers and slowly crack them open, or even take the dogs out. Anything normal would suffice.
As he walked through the great hall and into the gardens, his servants bowed in reverence and eternal loyalty to their king, lord, and master…the person, who to them, was second only to God. He wanted to tell them to not do that, not bow whenever he came around. He always hated being treated like he was untouchable. Yet, no matter what he did or said…he was, in every way.