#weepingmonk/reader

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire : Chapter 2

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: The Betrayal

Notes: /

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  2/47

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Ava had returned with the wagon. Cassian briefly told the others what was going to happen. No one sat down in the presence of the Monk. The tension hanged in the air, and when the Monk began to wake you warned Cassian of it.

“He’s bound to a tree. What harm can he do?” he dismissed your warning and fear, making a mockery of it.

You hadn’t stopped staring at the Monk, at his markings that betrayed his secret. The others seemed to be unaware, or maybe they did not even care.

“Wake up, mutt.” Cassian nudged his head roughly. “Not so frightening now, eh?” he mocked him.

The Monk’s eyes opened and fixed on Cassian right away, then slowly he took in the situation he found himself in. Your blood ran ice cold at witnessing it, as if your body tried to warn you of the danger present. The Monk was far too calm to your liking, he looked even bored by the whole ordeal, as if it was an ordinary night for him.

Cassian walked to the black stallion and led it closer by the reins. “Looks like a strong animal. I wonder how long it would last if I cut off one of it’s legs.”

There was a slight change in the Monk’s eyes, they were sharper and focused on him.

The threat shocked you, “Cassian!”

The fury burned in Cassian’s eyes when he looked your way.

“We can use a horse.” you quickly blurted out to avoid his rage.

He held the reins out in your direction a little aggressively and you tried to keep a distance while fishing them out of his hands. Never would you admit it out loud that you might fear your own brother more than the Weeping Monk.

You led the horse away from Cassian and tied the reins to a tree, as you were petting the horse’s neck soothingly you became aware of the Monk’s eyes on you. It wasn’t hard to guess that the Monk was attached to the stallion.

Cassian continued to mock his captive, “Maybe I should cut your leg off and see how you’d fare.”

The Monk stayed eerily quiet, doing nothing more than study every single person present. Cassian pulled out his knife, dangling it in front of the Monk, then threatened to pierce it through his boot. The Monk didn’t even flinch, his icy stare far more intimidating than that simple knife. It bothered Cassian that his actions went without response, it was why he decided to punch the Monk in the jaw, who took it without a sound. Ava chuckled amused, part of her must have loved that twisted personality Cassian had.

“You’re a quiet one.” Cassian laughed and hit him again.

You hated to see the joy on his face when he was injuring someone who couldn’t defend themselves, just as you hated to see that same joy when he’d often hurt you. It felt so, so wrong.

“Stop it.” you said, all eyes turned to you. “It’s cowardly to attack someone who is bound.”

Your whole body tensed right after realizing what you had done.

Cassian scoffed insulted, “Are you calling me a coward?”

He stepped away from the Monk and stopped right in front of you. The backhanded slap you received was no surprise, but it didn’t hurt any less because of it.

Cassian sneered the words at you. “The only coward here is you. That bastard would kill you first of all, you can’t even defend yourself. That’s why you’re here aren’t you? Too weak and scared to survive on your own.”

Ava cruelly chuckled. Your eyes fell to the grass. Cassian looked so pleased to see you upset.

“Enough, Cassian. We need to focus on our plan.” Bertram was trying to draw the attention away from you.

Cassian looked at you like you were nothing more than the dirt beneath his boots, then walked away. “Just because you keep defending her, doesn’t mean she’ll pull you into the bushes with her.”

It was mortifying to hear the insinuation and the laughter that followed from Cassian and Ava. Bertram on the other hand looked away from everyone.

Cassian beckoned for Bertram. “Let’s get him on the wagon.”

You stayed with the horse, the only company you felt comfortable with in that moment. They got him loose from the tree but kept his wrists bound together in front of him whilst they moved him to the wagon. Ava kept her distance, she had bound a rag around her arm to cover the wound there.

Cassian held his sword ready but looked your way just for one blink and chaos erupted instantly. The Monk took the moment of distraction to cut loose the ropes on his wrists by moving them across the blade of the sword, he kicked Cassian to the ground immediately after. Ava was running towards Cassian to help, but you ran to Bertram when you saw the Monk turn on him next. He had already managed to disarm and steal Bertram’s sword, the poor Sky Folk barely stood a chance against him. It was reckless, but you had to try and help. You ran up to them and grabbed the cloak of the Monk, giving it a strong pull so Bertram could get to a safer distance. What you didn’t anticipate was that the Monk would switch targets so fast. You barely registered the hand wrapping around your lower arm, nor how the Monk had turned and caught you in his grasp. The fight fell to a sudden stop when the sword was against your throat, the Monk was holding you against his chest like a shield.

For the first time, the Monk let his voice be heard, “Stand down.”

He caught a whift of your scent by standing so close, there was an oddity in it that he could not place.

Cassian cursed under his breath, as did Bertram. The group kept their distance.

Next, the Monk demanded, “My swords.”

None of them moved to fetch the swords they had put on the wagon, they weren’t willing to offer him any more weapons than he already had. The Monk moved just a little and a whimper escaped you.

“Shhh…” he hushed. “Quiet.”

“Let her go.” Bertram said, eyes going back and forth between you and the Monk. “Just let her go.”

The Monk held on. “What is her life worth to you?”

“What?” Cassian asked incredulous.

“Is it worth yours?” The Monk tilted his chin in their direction. No answer came and he pushed them for one, “She risks her life to protect you, and you will not even consider doing the same for her?”

Ava kept quiet, gulping down the undeniable fear she felt. For a second, Bertram looked at you apologetic and your stomach turned.

“You can try to run. Or you can die with her. What will it be?” The Monk watched the group, waiting for their decision.

You saw all of them looking at each other and then they began to retreat. Slow at first, but then they ran. Bertram, the only friend you thought you had, abandoned you… leaving you to die at the hands of the Weeping Monk. Inside you were crumbling apart, broken by the betrayal, by how truly easy it was for them to give up on you. You were blinking fast, fighting the tears from showing. The group was gone, they had fled into the darkness of the forest, abandoning you in the grasp of the monster. The Monk stood still for a moment longer, undoubtedly noticing the response you had to the group forsaking you. Then he slowly walked with you to his horse where he retrieved a rope and used it to bind your wrists together in front of you. After taking another rope, he led you to a tree and forced you to sit down against it, he bound you to it.

You barely dared to stare up at him, and even when you did you only saw how his face was cloaked in the shadow of his hood. It reminded you of how some would describe a creature who came to collect the souls of the deceased. The Monk picked up his swords from the wagon, sheathed the shorter one but keeping the longsword in hand. He inspected the ropes binding you one more time before walking away, leaving you there at the mercy of the forest and possibly even wolves.

“No! Please, let me go!” You panicked when you saw him walk off.

He ignored the plea and soon he was out of sight and into the darkness of the forest. Fear engulfed your being. How long before you would starve, or perish from thirst? Or perhaps a wolf would find itself a tasty meal tied to a tree…

“You bastard!” your scream followed in his tracks.

But the Monk did not return.

    ~~~♤~~~♤~~~◇~~~♤~~~♤~~~

  Hours must have passed, it was dawn when you opened your eyes after having fallen asleep waiting for help that never came. You were still tied to the tree, but no longer alone. A frightened gasp escaped you when you saw the Monk stand near his horse, his back was turned to you, he was cleaning blood off of his sword with a rag he then discarded. Your eyes quickly scanned your body for signs of injuries but found nothing. But then where had that blood came from? He noticed that you were awake and walked over to you, sheathing the sword before stopping a few paces away.

“You are not Fey.” he stated.

Your eyes forced themselves away before they could betray the truth, your body shaking violently in fear of what he would do. You were defenseless like this, he could do anything he wished and you feared the worst.

The Monk spoke in a calm and even civil manner, “I found the Sky Folks. They have been cleansed.”

Ava and Bertram were dead? Your eyes fell on the bloodied rag.

“The man, Cassian, do you know where I will find him?” he asked.

You were quick to shake your head and kept your eyes fixed on the grass.

The Monk was determined to find the one who had acted so distasteful towards him. “I will find him.”

Could he sense that you were lying? You hoped he couldn’t. He came closer and stood near your boots quietly for a while, you worried he was trying to determine whether or not to kill you.

“You stole from us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” He arched a brow, questioning your sincerity.

You nodded shallowly. “Are you going to kill me?”

The Monk was quiet for the longest time, then he reached down and from reflex you flinched. Always prepared for a hand to strike. He was only inspecting to see if the ropes were still fixed.

He stated the facts. “The ring. I know you have it, Father told me he saw you take it. Where is it?”

“In my pocket.” you quietly said.

Right away he inspected your jacket for it. Well… it wasn’t in those pockets…

“Uhm…” You were wincing at the uncomfortable situation you were in.

He looked at your face expectantly.

It came out very quiet. “The pocket of my trousers.”

His hands were off of you instantly, he swallowed and was clearly trying to think of what he would do. You didn’t think he would look as uncomfortable as you were. A deep breath. “Which pocket?”

By nodding to your right, you gave him the answer.

He brushed his hand over his chin, then slowly reached over to try and search for the ring. But the moment you flinched again, he halted. “If you cooperate, I will show you mercy.”

To show that he meant it, the Monk loosened the ropes, freeing you. He must have been confident that you wouldn’t try to attack him, and you knew better than to try. You didn’t even dare to get up from the ground, it felt like your back was stuck to the tree.

“The ring. Hand it over.” He beckoned for it.

With trembling hands you fished it out of your pocket and held it out for him to take.

The Monk took notice of how you were avoiding eye contact and took the ring from your hand. He looked at it whilst interrogating you. “Why did you steal it?”

Because if you didn’t, Cassian or Aldith would either starve or beat you into submission again… Your silence persisted.

“Answer my questions.” his tone was firm.

“To earn a meal.” you hated to say it out loud.

“Poverty?” he asked.

Your father wasn’t poor at all… Yet you nodded, letting him believe his guess was right.

The Monk questioned you further. “Tell me what you know about the man you were with.”

“He was Sky Folk, the woman was his sister.” you said.

He must have known that you were being purposely avoidant. “Not him. The one who struck you. Cassian.”

Your brain tried to think of plausible lies quickly. Because you couldn’t tell him the truth and expect him to let you go after that. No, he would use you to lead him right to Cassian, to your home and neither Aldith or Cassian would be forgiving. “I only know his name and that he is a sellsword. I encountered him with the Sky Folks.”

The Monk was thinking up theories. “Did he force you to steal from our camp?”

You did not appear to be the sort of person who would be willing to take such risks voluntarily. There was not even a weapon on you.

You didn’t know how to answer. He was clearly waiting for one.

“Well?”

“Yes.”

“You fear him.” It was a statement, he sounded so certain of it.

Not a sound came out of you. As if part of you feared Cassian was still around, watching this and waiting to see if you’d betray him.

He knelt down to your level, holding the ring up for you to see. “Stealing is a mortal sin.”

“I’m sorry.” The constant urge to apologize to avoid the violence was ever present.

The Monk dropped the ring into the grass and rose from the ground again, he walked towards his horse. You were still sitting against the tree and he stopped to look at you.

“Go.” he told.

“I’m free?” You couldn’t really believe it.

“Consider this clemency.” He paused. “I will not offer it a second time should we cross paths in a manner such as this again.”

You were starring openly at him now.

“Understood?”

“Yes…”

The Monk mounted his horse and you scrambled to your feet. For just a moment his horse seemed reluctant to follow his command, the animal was looking at you. He spoke to the stallion, drawing the horse’s attention back to him, “Goliath.”

Finally, the horse listened and the Monk slowly rode away. You were still in disbelief about it all when the sunlight reflected on the rubies of the ring he had left behind in the grass. You picked the ring up and were left to wonder why the Monk would even let you keep it. Was it because you had prevented Cassian from cutting a leg off of the horse?Regardless, if he had known of the Feyblood in your veins, he would not have shown you mercy. It took you a moment before you went and climbed into the wagon, maybe you should have waited to see if Cassian would return for it, but he hadn’t bothered to return for you either so you rode back to Ravenwick alone.

Taglist:

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Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

[lihamsworld]

Okay, so remember when I said I’m writing another part for “I Wish I could Live More than One Lifetime”? yeah, I actually have planed out the whole plot, how the reader came to be, the twists and turns, how many chapters I think it should have, everything! I even wrote every chapter’s title so I won’t forget what would happen within that chapter, I had it all planed out, I’m polishing chapter 1 and 2 and then gone. I accidentally dropped my phone to water and it broke, lost all the data I have, I don’t have backups. It never occurred to me that such accident would happen to me considering how I take good care of it. But anyways, I’m rewriting it, I’m also changing some things for the plot which I think would be better than the initial plot, but I wouldn’t stray far away from it. I promise! 

I also need to re-watch “Cursed” so I could give justice to the characters when I wrote them because right now? I can’t differentiate Geralt of Rivia from The Weeping Monk, I’m sorry 😭.

[theweepingwitch]

we’re back to that old obsession lads

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire : Chapter 1

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: The Group

Notes: Finally it's here! Tumblr is messing up the way the text is posted so yeah… sorry about that. I write on Reedsy but copying it here always makes it look a little wonky. There will be some tags added on later chapters, this to avoid big spoilers.

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  1/47

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sun had only just risen in the sky when your half-brother, Cassian, slammed his fist against your bedchamber’s door.

His voice thundered through the wood, “Get up! Father wants to see us!”

You had jerked awake violently, hating that tone that he used far too often.

He hammered on your door again. “Did you hear me?! Get up!”

“Yes-,” You swallowed down your awakened fear to say it louder, “Yes! Coming!”

He walked away from your door, leaving you to get dressed in a haste. As always. Rest was not something that was really granted to you and Cassian enjoyed to take away what little joy’s you had in life. Needless to say, there weren’t any actually left. Your father had been married twice, his first marriage ended when Cassian’s mother died young. His second ended when your mother died after childbirth. Cassian was just two years old when you were born. Your father, Lord Aldith of Ravenwick, blamed you for the death of your mother ever since, so much so that he had refused to even tell you her name no matter how many times you had asked. And had he known that you were born with the same Feyblood as your mother after all, instead of Manblood like him, you doubted he would have bothered to keep you alive for as long as you had. He detested the Fey and you had no doubt that he made your mother hide what she was once he had her fully in his control. You had never told a soul of what you were, the only luck you had was that your markings were not visible to the eye. For a while you had believed to be normal, until you were five, then your whole world changed. It also took some time to fully understand what you were, had you not seen a description that matched you perfectly in a book once you would have never known. Secrets and lies, all of it needed to keep yourself alive, to keep yourself safe from your own family… And even then they still treated you ill.

You pulled your shirt on, wincing at the dull pain from the bruise on your arm. Closing up your bodice hurt your still healing wrist. It were common discomforts you had learned to live with. Once you had tried to run away, just once, and Aldith had send his mercenaries to find you. They had dragged you back to the village, into your home, and tossed you at your father’s feet. He didn’t need them to enact the punishment for your actions, he did that all by himself. The bruises had taken weeks to heal, and ever since that day loud noises and shouts tended to make you flinch.

You rushed to the great chamber of the large manor, the place where the Lord of the village always expected to see you when called upon. After taking a deep breath, you entered the room. Cassian was already waiting impatiently for your attendance, as was Aldith.

“What took you so long to arrive here?” Aldith asked annoyed.

Your head tilted down, eyes fixed on the floor, “I was getting dressed, father.”

There was a scoff, but thankfully he seemed to accept the excuse this time. He pointed to a place on the map that was splayed out on the table. “I am sending the both of you on another errand. The paladins have set up camp not far from here and if the rumors I’ve heard are true then there will be gold present in those tents. Go there, take what you can without being noticed. Ava and Bertram will join you on this task.”

It was true, your father had never earned his wealth in an honest way and expected his children to do as he did. No matter the risk.

“We are stealing from the Church?” It slipped from your thoughts.

Aldith glared your way. “Would you rather starve than earn your keep?”

It was a blatant threat, he was wealthy enough to feed the whole village if he wanted to. But this was your life with them, obey or suffer the consequences. Cassian grinned, clearly enjoying how you were being put in place.

“No, father.” you quietly said.

“No more questions from you then. You do what Cassian tells you to do, understood?”

“Yes, father.”

You knew better than to ask for a weapon to aid in this errand, they would never trust you with one. And you knew not to tell them how stupid you thought it was that they would risk the anger of the paladins, they didn’t care for your opinion. At least Bertram would come along, he was perhaps the closest thing to a friend you had, even if he was just being polite it was more than you were used to.

“Any questions, Cassian?” Aldith asked.

If no one had been present to see it, you would have rolled your eyes at the blatant favoritism. Of course your brother had questions about this task, and your father saw no problem in answering them.

After midday, you sat on the wagon next to Ava. Bertram was steering the wagon, following the directions Cassian was feeding him. The plan was to hide the wagon at quite a distance from the paladin camp, then continue the rest on foot and gather at the wagon again later. In case things went wrong, you were to scatter and meet at the wagon when it was safe again.

You were chewing the small piece of bread Bertram had given you before the group had left the village, was it so obvious to others that your body was growing weaker? Meals were something you had to earn according to Aldith, and it was far harder for you to earn them than it was for Cassian. You said not a word during the entire ride. Ava, a Sky Folk woman and Bertram’s sister, tried to flirt with Cassian quite often. But Cassian looked down on the Fey even if he never spoke it out loud outside the walls of your shared home. To him, Ava and Bertram were just pawns to use.

The wagon came to a halt in the forest on the spot that Cassian had chosen. The four of you got off the wagon and gathered together to walk the remaining distance. It wouldn’t take much longer than an hour and the paladin camp should be reached by the time it got dark. During the walk it became painfully obvious again how little Cassian cared to talk to you, but you didn’t mind, talking to him always ended in being affronted or threatened.

Just before the sun went down, the group reached the paladin camp. The four of you were hiding in the bushes, trying to detect weaknesses in their camp to use to your advantage. Cassian was quick to figure out which tent belonged to Father Carden. And of course, considering the risk of getting caught was the highest, he ordered you to go and steal what was there for the taking. The others picked tents that were closer to the edge of the camp. It always went like this, you were always the one having to take the most risks, because you were expendable. Often it had crossed your mind to just walk up to a paladin and tell them of what you were, to let them end your life and suffering. The only thing offering some consolation were the faint whispers in your ears whenever you thought of it, if you could even call it consolation. It was something you had never spoken a word about, these barely decipherable voices talking to you… people would learn that there was something wrong with you and treat you even worse than they already did.

“Did you hear me?” Cassian’s irritated tone pulled you from your darkening thoughts.

The flash of panic in your eyes betrayed you.

He gave your arm a rough pull. “Get over there and earn your keep!”

With a slight shove, he pushed you towards the camp. You hurried away from him, keeping yourself low and hidden behind the bushes whilst moving towards your target. You had enough experience to stay undetected on your way towards Father Carden’s tent. After waiting for a moment to see if there was anyone inside, you hurriedly made an opening in one of the tent’s walls to crawl under. Crawling over the ground wasn’t your favorite past time, it ruined your already worn down clothing further.

Father Carden’s tent wasn’t as modest as you had believed it to be, there was a large carpet inside that looked like it must have been worth quite some coin. But a carpet was too large to sneak out of the paladin camp undetected. What you were looking for was found inside a large wooden trunk. Hidden between a lot of red robes, you found a heavy ring made of gold and encrusted with red gemstones that you believed to be rubies, this would sure earn you your keep for a while. Just when you wanted to slip the ring into your pocket, the owner of it walked into the tent. Father Carden looked absolutely shocked to see you there and you used that moment to bolt out of the tent. The priest was shouting something that were undoubtedly commands to his paladins. You even ran into one of them and the paladin ended up falling as a result of the collision. It didn’t make you slow down at all, you needed to get out of there. You reached the trees by the time the whole camp seemed aware of intruders. From the corner of your eyes you saw Ava dart into the woods as well. It wasn’t the first time you were caught on one of these errands, but Father Carden and the paladins were not afraid to enact severe punishments. Fey or not, death was an acceptable measure for them. You kept running as the darkness fell over the lands, the advantage of working in a group was that it was far harder for them to catch you if there was more than one target to capture.

The noise from the shouting paladins did not reach your ears anymore after running for quite some time. You began to walk to let your legs rest but still in a fast pace, and not much later Ava found you. Together you walked in the direction of the wagon, whilst she asked you if you were able to find anything worth the trouble, you had shown her the ring in response. The wagon couldn’t be far off anymore, running would have brought you closer to it quicker than walking.

“Stop!” Ava suddenly grabbed your arm, she hushed you when you tried to ask why. She gestured to let you know she had heard something.

You held your breath. She drew her sword. You envied that she had a weapon to defend herself. Another sound came and she spun around, it had come out of the other direction.

“It’s an animal?” She whispered doubtful.

A branch snapped and made you turn to the sound. The voices in your head were growing louder the more you panicked, something in you told you to run but what direction was safe?

It was Ava who made the decision. “We need to run. NOW!”

She followed her own advice right away and you followed her without questioning it. You could tell that she was running in the direction where the wagon was waiting, was she hoping to find the others there to help? That hope was cut short when the sound of a galloping horse gave chase not far behind you. Like a shadow chasing the two of you, the horse closed in, it was terrifying.

“Ava! Look out!” you tried to warn her.

She barely had enough time to throw herself out of the way of the horse’s path. Both of you hit the ground hard. The horse’s rider swiftly dismounted, the sound of steel being drawn made Ava get to her feet immediately. She barely had enough time to ward off the sword lashing out at her. Fear engulfed you both when you realized who the enemy was that you were facing. Father Carden’s most loyal soldier, the Weeping Monk.

Ava did her best to stand her ground but she ended up falling. You prevented him from being able to deliver the killing blow to her by running up to him and grabbing his arm, halting his movements.

“Leave her alone!” It was a rare thing to hear your voice be so loud.

He had thrown you on the ground so fast you didn’t even understand how he’d done it. And still it didn’t stop you from trying to stop him long enough for Ava to get on her feet again. You grabbed hold on his leg, he pulled free just as Ava attacked him. And then she was bleeding, his sword had cut through her sleeve and wounded her. The voice of Bertram rang from close-by, he ran to come to his sister’s aid.

You crawled backwards, away from the fight that ensued. In the darkness it was hard to focus your eyes on the Monk, his dark attire worked to his advantage. It all happened so ridiculously fast. The Monk fought brutally elegant, as if he was the personification of death itself. Bertram hit the ground after being struck by the Monk’s elbow. Ava barely kept her footing against him. You tried to help Bertram back to his feet. And then from the corner of your eyes you saw Cassian, with a rock in his hand.

Cassian struck the Monk just once against the back of the head and neutralized the threat you had been fighting. The Monk was unconscious by the time he hit the ground hard. Everyone was shaking at the sight of him, even then they still feared him as if he was a vengeful spirit that would come to haunt them for this. Cassian cursed and dropped the rock. Bertram was still holding your shoulder for support. Ava held her wounded arm.

“How the hell did he find us?!” Ava questioned out loud, voice shaking.

“The bastard is know for tracking down Fey.” Cassian said irritated, glancing at both of the Sky Folks.

Questions were fired back and forward between them, but their voices faded out in your ears. You were transfixed on the Monk’s face, on the marks he bore beneath his eyes, and understood why they called him the ‘Weeping’ Monk. You couldn’t believe the terrible truth it revealed to you. He was Fey. Cassian was saying something about tying the Monk up, it brought your attention back to the group.

“He’s too dangerous.” Bertram protested.

Cassian would not hear any reasoning. “He’s worth a lot of coin to the many he has crossed. This is the chance of a lifetime, we are doing this. Ava, fetch the wagon. My father will reward us all royally for this.”

Ava was angry with the decision but did as he asked, she was far too eager to win his affection, it would be a while before she would reach the wagon and return with it.

“Get that rope from his horse’s saddle!” Cassian barked the command to you.

This plan was insane. The Monk was far too dangerous to be kept as a captive, but Cassian saw no risks, he only saw the mountain of coins he’d get for the Monk. You approached the horse and the stallion turned his head to you right away, you patted the beautiful creature’s neck and took the rope from the saddle. Bertram met you halfway, so you wouldn’t have to get too close to Cassian, and took the rope. He used it to help Cassian tie the Monk up and to a tree. Your hands were sweating from anxiousness. This was perhaps the worst idea Cassian had ever had and you could only pray that it wouldn’t backfire on everyone involved.

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Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

[everlastingdreams]

Little snippet of Forged Of Fire. A dream sequence that delves into the mindset of the Weeping Monk/ Lancelot at a certain time in the story.

Under the night’s sky, surrounded by the forest, he found himself standing in wait. Awaiting something, no, someone’s presence, willing them to come. The soft melody that was their voice called upon his name.

~“Lancelot?”~

He turned towards the sound, eyes setting on your face. A dress nearly translucent swayed around your body with every taken step that closed the distance. A set of eyes that provided him endless transfixation. You came closer and closer, invading all his senses, and he let himself drown in the dream that was you. A touch to his chest, those gentle eyes pleading for his own. Your name fled his lips, a prayer, a plea.

~“My Lancelot…”~

His head tilted into the touch of your hand to his cheek. He could not touch, could not let himself be tempted to force everything he had worked for into ruins.

~“Lancelot?”~

Your touch trailed over his neck, he was drawn in closer, leaning in to receive what could damn his soul. He could not do this, he couldn’t, no matter how much he wanted to.

~“You want me…”~

Your lips were so close, taunting his, he did not dare say a word. They were a siren’s call and his soul was willing to drown for them.

~“I will never want you the way you want me.”~

[everlastingdreams]

Little angsty snippet from Forged In Fire. To keep people fed with crumbs.

He wasn’t going to give it back… he stole it… You shot forward. “You filthy thief!”

The Monk was barely in time to stop you from attacking the priest, still you tried to break free from his hands.

“Hold her.” Father Carden commanded the Monk.

He looked at the priest. “Father-”

He knew why Father was asking this of him, and he did not want to be a part of it.

The priest approached with a glare, the Monk moved you one step behind him instantly. A grave mistake in the eyes of the priest, who directed his silent fury to the one who dared to defy him in front of others.

He knew what was coming, what this would cost him. No one defied Father without suffering the consequences.

Father Carden struck the Monk with the back of his hand. Hard. It left a red mark across the Monk’s cheek. You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed, and they all acted like this was normal behavior of the priest.

“You will bleed for her. Do you understand?” The priest warned him coldly.

The Monk said not a word, he only gave a nod.

He was burdened with his own further punishment for this defiance. The scourge would meet his skin again.

[everlastingdreams]

Gonna drop a snippet considering I passed the 100k mark on my wip of Forged of Fire a while ago. (yeah, it's kinda gotten out of control.)

No one sat down in the presence of the Monk. The tension hanged in the air, and when the Monk began to wake you warned Cassian of it.

“He’s bound to a tree. What harm can he do?” He dismissed your warning and fear, making a mockery of it.

You hadn’t stopped staring at the Monk, at his markings that betrayed his secret. The others seemed to be unaware, or maybe they did not even care.

“Wake up, mutt.” Cassian nudged his head roughly. “Not so frightening now, eh?” He mocked him.

The Monk’s eyes opened and fixed on Cassian right away, then slowly he took in the situation he found himself in. Your blood ran ice cold at witnessing it, as if your body tried to warn you of the danger present. The Monk was far too calm to your liking, he looked even bored by the whole ordeal, as if it was an ordinary night for him.

[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : Cloaked Beauty   One-shot

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Summary: The struggles with your body image begin to affect your happiness. Your two recently acquired companions, Lancelot and Percival, notice the changes.

Notes: Insecure plus size y/n. Fluff. Stuff I wrote when I was feeling down.

Warnings: Possible ED symptoms/signals (?)

Word Count: 3K+

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It had been a while since you bumped into the pair on the road.

A Fey child, and a man who accompanied him that turned out to be off the Ash Folk. A Fey kind long believed to be lost to the war.

It was the boy, Percival, who was the first to strike up a conversation with you in an inn while Lancelot had wanted to remain discreet.

You had been sitting in a corner, in the shadows to eat your meal. Shadows had covered you and still you felt eyes staring at you often.

The hood of your cloak had been pulled up as far as it could, it was almost touching the tip of your nose.

Needless to say, when a child plopped down on the chair opposite of you, it gave you quite the fright.

What started with offering Percival a bite to eat, ended with an offer to shelter them for a night.

Just one night, in your humble home that had a spare room after the passing of your parents, that had been the plan.

As it had been the plan of Lancelot too.

One night.

That turned out differently when they saw you struggle with making much needed repairs to the house.

A broken window, a door that barely closed.

No, the place was not safe for a woman alone.

One week. Then two. After that Lancelot had stopped speaking off when he would leave with the boy and you never brought it up again either.

To him, you were the perfect balance for Percival.

A person who was not as afraid to show affection to the boy, compared to a person who did not even know how.

The prospect of journeying further had faded to the background, especially when you were willing to trust him even after you learned the truth about who he was.

At first you had thought Lancelot stayed just to help, but when the repairs were done it baffled you to realize he just stayed to…stay.

Growing up under the scrutiny of others about your appearance had left you with low self-esteem.

Why would anyone want to stay near you? Your parents had asked the question more than once, always pointing out that if you lost weight, you’d gain more attention and friends.

Alas, they had diminished you to nothing more than an appearance that was not up to par according to them.

Therefore your favorite piece of clothing was a cloak two sizes too big. It hid you from the world, for the world would not want to see you.

Summer or winter, the cloak remained.

Even now, in the heat of the sun you wore it to go outside after Lancelot and Percival agreed to visit the market.

It wasn’t a long walk, but gods the cloak under the burning sun was enough to make someone faint.

Asking to stop for a moment, for the third time already, felt humiliating “Can we stop for a moment again? I’m sorry, I just feel so thirsty.”

Lancelot halted along with the boy, seeing you visibly struggle in this weather.

Percival came to your side “Are you alright?”

The kindness of the child always made you feel a little better “I’m alright. I just need a moment.”

To your dismay, your tankard of water was already empty. You weren’t going to speak off it and just hoped you would be fine until you reached the market.

The Ash Man was not blind, he could see the struggle and offered you his tankard “Here, you need to drink.”

Refusing was no use, so you took the tankard and tried not to drink it all “Thank you, Lancelot.”

When he touched the hood of your cloak it made you flinch.

Were you so afraid of people seeing you?

He withdrew his hand “The cloak is causing you to overheat, y/n. Let me carry it for you.”

The answer was a resolute “No.”

He did not need to ask why, you’d never tell him the truth he already knew.

Always the cloak.

Wrapped around you to hide the curves of your body from sight.

Countless of times you had hid in your cloak or behind the two Fey who where far more confident, especially Percival.

Always the cloak.

Your physical shield when your lowered self-esteem won from what was true.

Before he could try to convince you, you handed him back the tankard “Come on, let’s continue before it gets too late.”

“We have time-” He protested, knowing that you often pushed yourself over your limits.

You disagreed “Some things I need, sell out quickly.”

The vendors who offered interesting prices were often out of wares within hours.

  At the market, after purchasing what you needed first, your favorite thing to do was see if they had any clothing items that Percival could use.

It had been the first thing you did when the boy tagged along to the market the first time while Lancelot remained at the house.

That evening, Lancelot was baffled to see Percival show off his new clothes and offered to repay you, which you waved away.

You were not rich, you were not poor, you were well.

Your parents made and fixed shoes for a living, successfully so, while you were popular even with those at court for your embroidery skills.

It was honest work and you earned your living.

The next time you had went to the market with Percival, the boy helped pick out something for the tall Ash Man too.

In the hopes that Lancelot would accept the gift, you had been clever enough to let the boy be the one to give it.

And when Lancelot tried to politely decline, you just told him you’d prefer him to have clothes of his own instead of your father’s.

After that, he did accept them.

Today you skimmed along the stalls of clothing, often questioning both of them if they saw something they liked.

Lancelot always said ‘No.’

While Percival said ‘yes’ to everything until the Ash Man reeled the boy in.

He never let the boy out off his sights at the market, especially when walking past the stalls where they sold weapons.

It was quite unexpected when Lancelot was the one to point something out for you in one of the stalls, he’d never done so before.

The soft linen of a dress contrasted against the roughness of his palm “Y/n. Would this not be something you would want?”

Out of all the things he could have pointed out, it had to be the dress you had eyed more than once in the past. It wasn’t the price that bothered you, you just believed it would not fit you. And the dress was one that would draw attention, something you wished to avoid.

“It wouldn’t fit me.” You admitted without much thought.

A frown creased his forehead and he had Percival join in on it “I believe it would suit you well. What do you think, Percival?”

The boy was not one to lie, at least not about things like this, and he told his truth “It goes with her eye color.”

Clearly they had not understood you when you said it would not ‘fit’ you “That is sweet, but it wouldn’t fit me.”

This time you gestured up and down yourself, then proceeded to search the stall for things that would fit one of them.

Lancelot remained with the dress for a moment, swallowing all he wished to say when realizing you truly believed this dress would not fit.

Now he was no expert, but the dress was a match for you.

With reluctance he dropped the topic and hoped his disappointment was not visible to the eye.

And you still looked unwell, if he had not left Goliath at the house he would have insisted that you traveled on the horse.

He caught up with you again “Percival looks hungry. Perhaps we could stop at the inn?”

Percival looked up at him confused “I’m not-”

With a nudge he silenced the boy.

Now that it was necessary, the boy was not hungry…

The child glared up at him before seeing the look the Ash Man shared “Actually, I am.”

You agreed to the plan “Oh? That’s a good idea then.”

Even though Lancelot knew the way, he led you lead them there while trying to discreetly let the boy know that you weren’t feeling so well.

In the inn after some back and forth, you agreed to Lancelot paying for his meal and Percival’s. He had insisted to pay for all, which you declined.

Lancelot often spend time hunting in the woods, it was how he earned his keep now, he hunted so you could sell what was caught at the market.

But you wanted him to save the coin instead of spending it, especially when it came to you, you could look after yourself just fine.

You had picked something small to eat and got a tankard of water along with it.

The water went down just fine, but you didn’t manage to quiet the demons in your mind enough to take a bite of your meal.

People were staring at you again, you couldn’t get a bite down your throat like this.

Lancelot wanted you out of the sun and hoped the later it got, the cooler the weather would become. And now his worry increased when he saw you refuse to eat.

“Are you not hungry?” He knew the answer already.

You lied “I’ve never eaten this before. I’m not sure I like it.”

Percival leaned over the table and stole a piece from your plate, popping it in his mouth “I taste nothing wrong with it.”

For a second Lancelot shut his eyes at the boy’s bad manners.

You began to move your plate towards the boy only to be stopped by the Ash Man.

He made an attempt to fix the situation “If you are going to give this to him, at least let me pay for something else for you.”

Politely you declined again “Thank you, but I will just drink my water. I’m not really hungry anyway and I’d rather give it to Percival than let it go to waste.”

The pleading look on Percival’s face made him yield.

Your stomach would be empty, but a child’s would be filled.

You drank the water slowly, finding yourself avoiding Lancelot’s eyes more than once.

Did you see concern in them or were you imagining it?

No, there were too many looks aimed at you to dissect them all correctly.

So, you kept your eyes on the table and watched Percival enjoy the food.

After the meal, the three of you returned home.

Luckily the sun was going down, you had had enough of the heat and weren’t feeling well at all. Your head hurt and you felt like you had walked around the earth without sleep.

The first thing Lancelot did upon returning to the house was going to see if Goliath was alright.

The horse had it’s shelter under a wooden canopy that was build against the side of the house.

Percival yawned loudly and not much later he was climbing the stairs to the bedroom he shared with the Ash Man.

Where you kept your cloak on for a while longer, Lancelot had grown comfortable enough to take his off the second he entered the home.

You put away the vegetables and fruits you had bought at the market, then took his share of coins from the pocket of your dress.

He had refused his share before and knew you were too stubborn to allow it, so he took it “Why did you not eat anything at the inn?”

Your shoulders shrugged “People were staring at me, I hate it when it happens.”

When he breached the topic, you were quick to remove yourself from the room before it could lead to more questions.

But he was clever, it had not been the first time you had tried this.

You went to open the door to your bedroom that was next to the living area, his arm blocked your path inside.

He studied your face “You do not look well. Do you want some water to drink?”

You shook your head to decline and doing so allowed the vertigo to kick in, to avoid a fall you leaned against the wall with your back.

Lancelot took hold of your arm, making sure that if your condition got worse he would be able to help you to the floor without bones breaking “Careful. Take some deep breaths.”

You took the advice to heart and tried not to panic, after a minute of controlling your breathing it did get better.

He pushed open the door of your room and slowly led you to the bed so you could take a seat.

“Slowly.” He warned, fearing that the sudden change in position would cause you to faint after all.

With his help, you were able to sit down safely.

He gestured for you to stay seated, walked out and returned seconds later with a tankard of water and some fruit “Take this. The sun must have taken it’s toll on your body. Drink and eat.”

You took the tankard and it threatened to spill by how strong your hands were trembling.

To him it was only normal to help you with the task of holding the tankard if you could not do so on your own. The shaking decreased after drinking half of the water and he placed the tankard on the ground.

When he saw you refuse the fruit, he offered “Tell me what you want to eat and I will fetch it for you.”

You shook your head, those cursed thoughts were screaming at you. It was not rare for you to have a bad day mentally, but today was awful. No matter how much you wished to hide it, nothing seemed to slip past his watchful eyes. Some days you could not bring yourself to eat around anyone, out of fear that doing so would get you a mean comment.

Your parents had made so many cold remarks and even now they still haunted you.

Today those remarks were heavy on your shoulders. Tomorrow could be better.

But not today. Not now.

He was firm when needed be “You have walked in the blistering heat all day on an empty stomach.”

“I know you’re worried. But I will be fine, I just need some sleep and I’ll be better tomorrow.” It sounded like you were still trying to convince yourself of it as well.

Lancelot was trying his best and reached out to you from his own experience “I lived my whole life believing I was something I was not. It is hard to see the truth when our own demons refuse to let us do so.”

You shook your head slightly, knowing what he was trying to do. He was not a fool, it was only a matter of time before he noticed you almost always had your cloak on.

Was he truly trying to make you think you did not know the truth about your appearance?

It came out colder than you had wished for it to sound “Spare me your pity. I know what I am.”

Did you truly believe others perceived you so wrongly?

The one he had caught staring was a man who kept looking at your rear every chance there was.

And seeing another look at you in such a way had gotten under his skin more than once.

At first he had blamed it on feeling protective over you, until he caught himself doing what he was hating others for.

He did not avoid confrontation “What are you then?”

You scoffed bitterly at how he continued to pretend not to see it “I know why people stare at me, Lancelot. That’s why I wear the cloak all the time. No one wants to see someone like me.”

The thought that you believed that… no, it couldn’t truly be this bad…

He needed to hear it, to hear you say exactly what was haunting you because it stunned him so greatly.

And there was even anger in him, what terrible things had been said and done to you to make you think of yourself like this?

At this point, he was far more stern and chased the truth “Someone like you?”

You gestured to yourself, getting quite short with him “You saw how it was in the inn, I could barely move around!”

He found himself protesting “The place was packed with people-”

“Please, just stop. Please.” You hid your face in your hands “I’ve always been unappealing. I have learned to live with it.”

Silence fell, you no longer wished to speak of this, It hurt too much.

He could not voice his opinion on the matter.

No, not without crossing a boundary that had always been there between you.

A moment passed before he sat down beside you on the bed.

“Who told you this?” He made his voice sound as gentle as he could.

Your eyes remained on the floor “Everyone.”

That could not be correct.

Lancelot hoped to change the opinion you had on yourself “I did not. Percival has not either.”

The past with your parents had never been brought up and you did not wish to do so.

The past was the past, and it was where they belonged.

He changed tactics “You have seen my scars, now those are unappealing to the eye.”

It was kind of sweet that he was trying to lift your spirits, but he was throwing himself to the block to do so, your voice grew softer “It’s not the same. Scars or not, you could never be unappealing to someone.”

Oh?

That was perhaps the first compliment he’d ever received on his appearance and for it to come from you made it all the more meaningful.

It made him more comfortable to speak openly “They do not stare at your body for the reason you believe they do.”

The confusion on your face was genuine “What do you mean?”

He took what he considered the greatest risk in his life and touched the strings that held the cloak around you.

Upon doing so, it was like you shrunk before him.

Still, he undid the knot and let the cloak fall from your shoulders.

It had been too warm today to be wearing it and even now it was not much colder. Part of him wished to take it out of the house and let it disappear, but the cloak was not at fault, it was what gave you a sense of safety.

When you felt him take it from you, you caught his wrist to prevent it “My cloak…”

The times you had touched him he could count them on his one hand. Usually it had been an accident.

So this felt far more intimate than it was intended to be to him.

His wrist was released and he balled the cloak up and put it down between you “This cloak cannot hide your kind heart. Or the curves of your body that you wish to hide.” he used his own experience with hiding beneath a cloak “People always see us.”

It made your heart sink, of course you knew that a cloak could never hide everything but it was your safe haven.

Hearing it only made you want to hide from sight again and by reflex you reached for the cloak.

But he had anticipated it and put his hand over it to prevent it.

Not once did you meet his eyes, your own were getting hazy by the tears that threatened to show “Why are you doing this?”

Subconsciously he was leaning closer “I see how others see you, they do not view you as you do yourself. You were right, at least one man was starring at you in the inn that I could see. Two at the market.”

You refused to believe what it implied “Don’t be ridiculous.”

The scoff he emitted sounded partly like a chuckle, after a quiet second he said “Eleven.”

The number had you frown at him “What?”

His fingers felt the warmth still present on the cloak “Eleven men have looked at you in a way that a monk would be send to the whip for.”

And with two of them, he had to actually interfere when they had the blatant intend to touch you without you noticing. Always at the market, where a crowded place could make it look like an ‘accident’.

Your eyes flickered to his and dropped to the floor again upon seeing the warmth and kindness in them “It’s not true.”

“I would not lie to you.” To hear you reject even the possibility of it was difficult to witness.

You stood up from the bed, still feeling somewhat lightheaded

The house consisted only of the two bedchambers and one living area that also served it’s purpose as a kitchen, there wasn’t much of a chance to retreat to a place to be alone.

You turned to him “I know you’re just trying to cheer me up. But nothing you say changes the truth.”

That stubborn nature in him only made him more determined to get the point across “I will not feed you lies to make you feel better.”

The firm tone he had now was quick to silence you.

He rose to his feet as well, took two steps in the direction of the door and then stopped “Do you trust me?”

Not once had he harmed you and he’d sworn not to, he had always kept to his word.

“I do.” You admitted.

This man was agile, light on his feet and quick to action.

Before you could even guess what he was about to do, it was already happening.

Your arms flailed beside you when he cradled your head and brought his lips down on yours.

What started as a kiss fierce enough that felt like it was meant to scare away all your doubts, faded into a declaration he could have never brought into words.

It felt surreal to be on the receiving end of this man’s attention.

He was a monk, terribly handsome and a good man under a stoic veil.

He broke away to see your response but did not stray far from your lips.

Perhaps actions spoke louder than words.

With widened eyes you stared into his “What are you doing?”

His voice was silk to your ears “Kissing you.”

Your thoughts were slowly catching up “Why?”

Honesty was a virtue he held high, even now “While others stare, I shall be the one to show you why they do so.”

Now he let you decide the course of action and held back on tasting your breaths again.

Your fingertips touched his cheek in wonderment, as if you could not believe he was real and this was actually happening “I think I need to be shown again…”

That was an invite he did not pass up on and he proceeded to show it for many years.

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Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story.

[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : The Patience Of A Heart    Chapter 19

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Story Summary: After fire claimed the lives of your family, the monastery of your Uncle Carden becomes your new home. As the niece of a priest you are expected to behave prim and proper, but not even the watchful eyes of the Weeping Monk can see all. An ancient magic returns to life when love and duty begin to blur.

Chapter Title: Caught In The Hands Of Fate

Notes: I just realized I have to proofread three chapters again soon ;_;

Warnings: There’s a list of warnings for this story: Murder. Violence. Death. Angst. Sexism. Strong Language. Trauma. Childhood trauma. Survivor’s guilt. Mentions of child maltreatment. Threat of Sexual assault. PTSD. Misogyny, Self-flagellation. Gore.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Pining. Smut. Spicy content. Little Slow-burn.

Word count of this fic: +130K

Chapter:  19 / lol Gonna keep the chapter count a secret until the end.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After going to your room and stuffing the satchel with the socks under your bed and out of sight, you went out to find Lancelot and see how things were going with Neia and Percival.

You weren’t ready to see those socks again, in truth you hoped not to see them again. The one who they were meant for had suffered a horrible faith and they only reminded you of it.

Anne would not have wanted you to think this way, but you couldn’t help it…

You stepped into the stables again and found it void of the Feys you were looking for.

The laughter of children came from nearby and you followed the sound.

There they were, Neia on her horse and Percival was walking beside her and held on to the reins.

Lancelot stood against the wooden fence that surrounded the meadow.

There were goats and cows running through the grass, as well as some other horses.

You stopped next to him on his right and leaned on the fence to watch Neia and Percival in the meadow.

The Ash Man was curious how it had went “Have you spoken to Gawain?”

You gave a nod “Gawain said he’ll talk to the others about it.”

What…

He hummed, took a step backwards and walked slowly to stand on your right instead of your left side.

There was another very quiet hum and then he took you off-guard when he leaned in and blatantly smelled you.

With widened eyes you stared at him utterly confused “Why did you… what was that for?”

A Fey scent he recognized was all over you.

Had Gawain truly found it necessary to do this?

Part of him knew it had been done on purpose to mess with him and his heightened senses, yet part of him severely disliked how another’s scent was over you now.

He held his tongue, knowing how it could come across if he mentioned it.

You saw the slight narrowing of his eyes and the change in them “Alright, spit it out.”

He proceeded with caution, but knew the annoyance was still detectable “You smell different.”

You pushed for an answer “Like what?”

It came out a bit short “Like Gawain.”

The scent was so strong that he had thought it was Gawain approaching him.

And there it was. Did he really think you would not notice the difference in him when he was jealous or insecure?

The truth was nothing to feel guilty or bad about “He told me something personal and I hugged him.”

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the fence “What did he tell you?”

Did he think Gawain had declared his love for you or something of the sorts?

While sighing, you answered “If you want to know, you will have to ask him yourself. I don’t believe it was meant to be told to others. It was personal, Lancelot.”

The Ash Man was quiet for a second, then looked at you.

It was better to warn him of the tragedy in the knight’s past “It was something that happened in his past. He lost someone.”

Realization washed over him, you two had shared your grieve and he had misinterpreted it “He told you this?”

You nodded “Yes. Just… be considerate if you ask about it.”

He fidgeted with his hands “I will not ask. If he wishes to speak of it, he will do so when he feels comfortable.”

It wasn’t forgotten how quick he was to fear the worst “I wish you weren’t so worried that I would prefer another over you.”

Right away his full attention was on your face “I am not.”

It was not meant to be accusing “Don’t lie. I can tell.”

Lancelot sighted quietly, remorse present in his eyes “I am sorry.” there was a short pause “You could have someone who has no trouble being with you the way you would want them to be. Someone who would not have asked you to wait.”

So that was what bothered him…

You took one of his hands and brought it to the mark on your arm “Lancelot, we spoke of this.”

The gesture held more meaning then you could bring into words.

The mark was still there and the love for him was too.

You saw him struggle to meet your eyes “Look at me…” finally he did “The mark is still there, is it not? I do not want someone else, just you. You’re all I want.”

Now those weeping eyes did not leave yours and you were certain that if you had not been out in the open, he wouldn’t have held back the way he was doing now…

The tease fell from you “If you want me to stop smelling like another, maybe replace it with your own scent again.”

His hand curled around your lower arm and you felt the mark tingling in excitement.

The idea was terribly inviting…

You took his hand off of your arm and moved it around your form while you leaned into his side “This is a nice way to start. I can use the comfort.”

He did not need an explanation and brought it to your shoulder to keep you close.

This was nice…

Especially when he proceeded to start and rub along your back a bit.

Only when the children threatened to look your way did he fold his hands together behind his back. Still, you remained close at his side.

Then with a cheeky smile, you leaned even closer and sniffed him yourself.

It was meant to be an inside joke between the both of you. But he genuinely smelled good, your heart took a leap and the mark’s response was just as strong.

Never did you expect the response it send through your body.

Dammit…was this a Fey ability you were not aware off?

Was it just him? Was it the Ash Folk blood that ran through his veins? Or did the mark connect you to him so strongly that even his scent was enough to fuel you with desire?

Your whole body had warmed up and you dropped your eyes to the grass, too flustered to let it show.

He was aware something was happening and looked at you curiously because he had no idea what exactly it was.

Percival had seen you sniff his tall friend and loudly pointed out your odd behavior “What are you doing?”

Of course the twit next to you turned his head to the side to prevent himself from laughing.

You mumbled through your teeth “Of course he never sees you do it…”

He swayed and bumped into you lightly “Years of experience.”

His attention was pulled away when he saw Neia try to dismount, like he had taught her, but the girl was clearly frightened.

He called out for her to wait and went over to them.

Percival was doing his best to explain to her how she should do it.

Lancelot was quick to reach up and pluck her from the horse, then safely set her down on the ground.

Neia however did not let go off his hand and the poor Ash Man did not have it in him to pluck her hand from his own.

If he didn’t learn to do so, he’d be walking around with the girl for the rest of the day, you were sure of it.

Actually, you wouldn’t mind seeing that happen.

Percival was grinning up at him, oh how amusing must it be for him to see the former fearsome ‘Weeping Monk’ with a little Fey girl attached to his hand.

A look for guidance was send your way and you just grinned back.

Even from this distance you could see him roll his eyes a bit.

He bend down, picked Neia up and carried her out the meadow “Percival, will you lead the horse back to the stable?”

The boy was already pulling the horse along “Sure. I’ll take Spot back.”

Neia went ahead and put her small fingers to those ashen markings again, half expecting them to come off his skin like they haven’t been their since he was born.

The second Lancelot was in front of you, he put her down and she gave the biggest pout “Y/n will take you and Percival to your lessons.”

You glared at him and his way of shoving the responsibility onto you.

There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth as he fought the smirk.

It vanished completely when Neia questioned him “Are you angry? I’m sorry…”

The question came out of nowhere and took both of you off-guard.

He was at her eye-level not a second later, uncaring if he had just knelt down into a bit of mud.

Neia rubbed along her right arm to sooth herself again.

Rarely he heard the whispers of the Hidden, yet now he heard their faint voices.

The way the girl kept rubbing at her arm each time she was nervous or upset…

It just seemed…off…

He was distracted by it “I am not…” instinct led him to reach for her right arm “May I?…”

The girl let him hold her arm and got very quiet when he began to roll up her sleeve.

The sleeve was not even at her elbow and you covered your mouth from sheer shock.

His heart sank at the sight of the old scars.

Her arm was littered with them, the result of leather that had struck her skin countless times.

There were so many… too many.

He needed a moment to collect himself before looking at her face again “Who did this?”

It surprised even himself how calm and quiet he managed his voice to be.

At first she shook her head and fell silent.

You knelt beside her and put an arm around her for comfort “It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid, they’ll never hurt you again.”

Lancelot gently moved his fingers over the scars “Neia…”

She answered his question “Papa did.”

It dawned on you that you had only ever seen her mother and she had never said a word of her father.

To hear how a father was able to hurt a child like this set his blood to boil “Is your father alive?”

If he was, he would rectify that.

Little Neia shook her head.

It was a relief that the bastard was gone.

If the man had not been gone yet, he would have been soon enough.

You saw Percival walk over and Lancelot rolled down her sleeve again.

The boy had seen it anyway and stopped next to Lancelot “What’s on her arm?”

He did not want the girl to think she had to hide them “Those are scars.”

Percival was clever and stopped himself from asking further.

The boy was often bold and brash, but never when it came to things like this.

The young knight took Neia’s hand and therefore relieved Lancelot of his duty “Come. Let’s go to the lesson.”

The girl looked rather giddy all of a sudden when the boy held her hand.

It did not go unnoticed by you or Lancelot and you shared a look.

Still, rattled by the revaluation, your voice wavered “Good plan, Percival. Come, sweetling.”

Neia was quick to lock her hand with yours and let you walk both her and her young knight to their lessons.

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  In the dinning hall, you stood and watched a Tusk Folk Man and Faun Folk woman entertain the children in their lessons with an animate story.

Seeing Percival and Neia laugh at the story warmed your heart.

How could you not have seen the silent suffering Neia had gone through?

Even now, as she mourned her mother, the girl hid those feelings.

But Lancelot had seen through the facade, perhaps it was because he knew what it was like to mask true emotions so those around him would never know.

A light tap on your shoulder broke your attention away.

Arthur stood beside you now “Keeping an eye on Percival, eh?”

It wasn’t a real question, mostly a jest “Why should I?”

He kept his voice low “Anything that shines like steel isn’t safe around him. I have to say, the boy has an eye for treasure and weapons.”

“Are you accusing him of something?” You arched a brow.

Arthur squinted his eyes, smile breaking out “Not at all.” then nodded at the group of children “That girl, Neia?”

You gave a nod.

He crossed his arms in front of him “Do you know that she doesn’t talk to anyone? Just Percival, Lancelot and you. But no one else.”

What?

At that, you paid some attention to the group and saw that she indeed did not interact with anyone else but Percival. Neia even looked down when another child tried to speak to her. And when the Faun Woman tried to get her to interact, the girl scurried back.

“Did you see that?” Arthur blurted out at the sight of it.

“Maybe she is just shy.” You found yourself not truly believing the words yourself.

The violence she had suffered made her wary and you held yourself back from going over there and taking a seat next to her.

Arthur’s smile had faded and you didn’t have to say a word, he knew something was wrong.

You did not make him ask “She has scars on her arm. When her father was alive, he hurt her.”

He discreetly pointed at her “He hurt her?!? But she’s… she’s so small. What sort of bastard would do that?”

It wasn’t a real question, it just sounded so surreal that a person could hurt a child “Like you said, a bastard. Did Gawain ever tell you about her mother?”

Arthur gave a nod, recalling the tragic information “I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her to live with her mother, while her mother was…”

Dead… the woman had passed on and Neia had been looking after her mother who would never wake again.

You blinked faster, struggling with the memory of the day you had stepped foot in Neia’s home “I can’t begin to imagine how many children are out there who are living through such horrific things. And it must be worse with this war going on.”

He sighed, agreeing with that “Speaking of war. Gawain told me that you want the Abbot to be dealt with.”

You guessed he would share his dismay regarding it “I know you are against it.”

Arthur debunked that idea “I was against Lancelot acting reckless. But he went off and tried it anyway. He and Red are lucky to be alive.”

“So, you’re not against it?” You asked.

He shook his head “Not if it’s safe. We have lost enough people, but I agree that the Abbot needs to be dealt with.”

You told Arthur what you did not dare tell Lancelot “There is a way that does not involve other people. I could do it alone.”

As a result, his voice went a little louder “Absolutely not!”

Reasoning with him would be easier than with the stubborn Ash Man “When the Trinity Guards found us in the forest last night, they said that the Abbot wanted me alive. I could use that to our advantage.”

He took hold of your elbow and led you out of the room “I wasn’t aware you had run into them. Neither of you looked wounded, so I guess they have been dealt with?”

You nodded “Yes. It’s where we got the new horses from.”

“Of course Lancelot would fail to mention it to Gawain and I.” Arthur rolled his eyes a bit in frustration “But why would Wicklow want you alive?”

“I’ve been told I can be quite charming.” You deadpanned and saw him slide his eyes to you “Alright, it’s because Wicklow wants Lancelot. Either to kill him for betraying the Church or because he wants to force him to hunt the Fey again.”

Arthur was pensive “Handing yourself over to the Abbot isn’t safe, y/n.”

You walked beside him “I think Gawain wants me to infiltrate the church in Helgenstone dressed in my tunic I still have from the abbey.”

He readjusted his jerkin “How would you even manage to get Wicklow away from his guards? They follow him around all the time.”

It was a valid concern “Perhaps Gawain will have an idea.”

He turned to face you again “Well, whatever Gawain decides, you can count on my help.”

It was a relief to hear it “Thank you, Arthur.”

Lancelot entered the hallway and approached you and Arthur on sight.

“Did you speak to Gawain?” Arthur questioned him immediately.

The Ash Man nodded “I did. He is still deciding over it. Red caught wind of the idea and is hounding him over it now.”

Arthur sighed and walked past him “I’ll go and see if I can help.”

While passing him by, Arthur amicably patted Lancelot on the arm. The look of sheer surprise by the Ash Man was missed by Arthur.

You looked down the hallway, at the door of the dining hall where the children were still laughing at the story told. An idea had popped in your head, but you would need some items for it.

Lancelot touched your arm to draw your attention “What has you distracted?”

You made a request “I would like to go into the forest and I was wondering if you wanted to come along. It won’t take long, I just want to pick some flowers.”

It had piqued his curiosity, he had never seen you walking around looking for flowers before “Flowers?”

You hummed “To braid in Neia’s hair. It’s fine if you don’t want to come along.”

It was almost amusing to him “The last time you touched a flower in the forest, it nearly burned your skin.”

Well, it was no lie… “So, you’ll come?”

He tilted his head a bit “Of course. Shall we walk?”

After agreeing to walk, together you walked towards the forest.

  No horse was needed because you didn’t have to go deep into the forest to find pretty flowers.

And he even helped, that heightened sense of smell of his was coming into handy to find flowers that were safe.

Most of the foraging was you pointing at a flower and him giving a ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

“How did you know about Neia?” You asked while plucking a flower from a fallen branch it was growing on.

The explanation was simple for him, having had the same experience “I also feel my scars when I think back of my upbringing. That is what happens with her. If she is reminded of her father’s anger, she can’t help but sooth the scars.”

It was heartbreaking to hear it “I really didn’t know she had them…or that she was treated that way.”

He did not put any sort of blame on you for that “Neither did I. What baffled me most was that she was not afraid of me anymore so quickly.”

You frowned “Because you are being kind to her.”

It was the example he hoped to use “Exactly. We reached out to her and she has not strayed away from us nor Percival.”

The girl had sprung to form an attachment to the first who had been kind to her, but she remained withdrawn to others…

You began to understand what he tried to explain “I never see her talk to others beside us, not even with those she has lessons with.”

He gave a nod “It will get better for her in time. She will not grow up at the mercy of a whip. Not anymore.”

Not like him he meant…

The words were dipped in admiration “You’ve always been protective of the little ones.”

There was only determination in his tone “I could not save my younger brother and I will be dead long before I do not try what I can to save other children from the same fate.”

A silence fell and when he did look at your face, he must have seen the affection in your eyes.

It made you drop your gaze to the ground.

Upon seeing it, he did the same.

After collecting enough flowers, you stored them in the small basket you had brought along.

The walk back was pleasant and you often walked against his side “Have you ever considered becoming a father?”

He kept the close distance, the sword at his side bumped into you “I do not know if it is even possible, if there has ever been a child from Ash Folk and Manblood…”

It was information he would never come to know as long as no other Ash Folk were there to speak of it.

Unless…

You pulled him out off his wandering thoughts “And between different Fey species?”

He considered it possible “That is more likely.” then muttered more to himself “But you are not Fey.”

It had been said so quiet that you had not heard it well “What?”

He said it a little louder “You are not Fey.”

You couldn’t resist to act a little cheeky now “Oh, so you would pick me to be mother of your children? Interesting.”

His throat bopped at what it also meant.

Children were the result of physical intimacy.

The Ash Man shut down, like he had crossed a line and been too forward.

So brave, but when it came to the topic he shied away.

By suppressing your own shyness, you hoped to ease his a little “Let me know if you ever wish to begin with finding out if Ash Folk can reproduce with Manbloods.”

You bit your tongue and directed your eyes at the sky after that bold statement.

His momentarily blank expression changed into a smirk, then he took hold of the hilt of your sword and pulled you closer by it.

It had you giggling softly before a laugh slipped out.

By doing so, he also left himself vulnerable to your shenanigans.

You’d stolen his sword quick as a whip and placed the basket down.

Taking a few paces backwards, you saw the blue of his eyes darken.

Slightly his head tilted and you knew he was willing to indulge you in this foolery.

It was a dare leaving his lips “Go on then, see if you can handle such a sword.”

Your brow arched high “I can.”

In truth you struggled to keep the sword still instead of swaying it round and about.

He drew his short sword, the look of a wolf on it’s hunt was present in his eyes.

To your own amazement, you blocked his first strike.

Well… that was what you though at least.

Somehow he had managed to grab hold of the crossguard on the longsword where your grip on the hilt was far less firm.

The sword was out of your hands with a single tug at the crossguard, he sank both swords into the soil, freeing his hands.

He would collect them later.

Lancelot stalked closer, sly smirk only getting stronger “At least your confidence is not lacking. Your swordsmanship on the other hand…”

You took a step back for every step he took to close the distance and you drew the sword that rested at your side.

It went so fast…

Almost like he knew you would be drawing your own sword as well.

He took one large step closer, sank down and grabbed the sword by the flat of the blade, his hands slid across the steel while he moved forward.

The sword was stolen from your grasp before you even knew what was happening.

The last thing you felt before losing your balance was him grabbing the back of your knee.

You sank to the ground.

It had been his intention.

He had discarded your sword right away “Careful.”

By holding on to his shoulders, you avoided a fall.

Now you sat on your knees in the grass and he was sitting the same way in front of you.

“Are you bloody mad?!?” You squeaked out.

He brought his hands to your waist and held on “You started this. Did you consider it wise to challenge me with the sword?”

The kneading on your waist chased the wit right out of you.

He hummed knowingly at the lack of an answer, seeing the effect he had on you now.

Was he able to sense the way the mark was tingling all over your arm?

You tapped on his shoulders playfully, then sneaked your hands beneath the hood to lace your fingers in his locks “You didn’t have to bring me to my knees-” and fired another tease at him “If you wanted that to happen, you only had to ask.”

The momentarily confusion as to why he would want you to kneel lasted only three seconds, then he leaned a little back.

You felt a little guilty for teasing him with it, but it was also meant to show him that he did not have to be uncomfortable about the topic with you.

He had heard of these… things happening.

But to hear you speak so boldly of it was unexpected.

A hand left your waist and went to hold the back of your neck.

He studied your expression, letting his gaze roll down from your eyes to your mouth a few times “You have been acting quite promiscuous to me.”

Your eyes dropped down from his gaze, shy smile growing “I can’t help it. Sorry.”

His thumb traced below your bottom lip “Do not be sorry.”

When he leaned in, you leaned back “People could see us.”

It halted him “Still worried what others might think if they knew?”

You feared they would become far more vigilante towards him “I see how difficult it is for you to be accepted among your people. I don’t want to make it even harder. They know Father Carden was my uncle, they don’t think much of me either because of that.”

Lancelot lowered his hands to your waist again and did not bother to pretend it was not with lecherous intend “I would not be here now if it were not for you. I would have bled out in the forest. I will not let the opinions of others keep me from you.”

You heard the way his voice had lowered and felt the greedy hold he had on you.

He wasn’t just holding on… he was feeling.

There was a moment where you could sense something was about to happen, it occurred only seconds before he moved and had you with your back on the grass beneath him.

Still kneeling beside you, it was clear that he felt quite comfortable in this mystical forest.

You were looking around to see if anyone else was near, half scolding him for his impulsiveness “Goodness! Lancelot!”

He was leaning over you, gaze roaming over your form, hand brushing your stomach “Fear not, there is no one.”

Your eyes squinted up at him “What do you think you are you doing?”

His gaze caressed your features and body like a gentle wave, while he rubbed along your stomach “I am…curious…I think.”

The way he could not stop staring was enough to make one nervous.

“Curious about what?” You asked, genuinely curious what he was curious about.

Those weeping eyes searched yours while he traced a finger over the lacing of your dress, they stayed on yours when he undid the knot that tied the laces together.

Your chest heaved for air and you fidgeted with some strands of grass beside you.

The lacing was undone for a little more than an inch.

It was enough to offer him a view, the same one he had caught a glimpse of in the inn.

This was not the time or place, but he was slowly losing the fight against the desire that continued to fuel.

As if he meant to thank you for allowing it, he tenderly pressed his lips your temple.

He touched nothing more, the titillating view was already more than he’d dare to ask of you “If I wanted you to stop having another’s scent, I would have to replace it with mine.”

You gawked at him “So you just decided to handle that here in the forest?”

Wickedly he grinned “Yes.”

He brought his nose down to the crook of your neck to inhale your scent.

Breathing normally became a challenge “And opening my dress helps this how?”

His hand slid under your back, warm breath ghosted over your neck “Forgive me for not having a proper excuse.”

You wouldn’t let him off the hook just yet “I’ll forgive it if you tell me what the improper excuse is.”

Instead of answering, the stubble of his beard moved along your skin and passed your collarbone.

With his bottom lip he felt the warmth of your bosom and the quick rise and fall of your chest.

This was not the time or place…

He pressed his aching lips to what was uncovered.

That warm alluring scent, which covered your skin, awoke a hunger in him.

In return you curled your fingers in his hair and kept him close.

He saw at as encouragement to keep going.

It were his thoughts that he let out while coming up to touch his lips to the shell of your ear “If I die in Helgenstone, I will have this to keep in my thoughts in my last moments on this world.”

Did he truly consider it a possibility??

It had sounded so normal for him… as if he did not fear the prospect of death anymore.

But it wasn’t normal to you, you were not raised in battle and the possibility to die in one.

You found yourself holding on to his shoulder, petrified at the thought that it might cost him his life “If I do it alone, no one else will have to sacrifice themselves.”

He stopped and locked eyes with you “What?”

He had heard it and was giving you the chance to reconsider.

But you didn’t “Gawain was right. Enough have suffered, especially the Fey. I could do it, I can deal with the Abbot alone.”

Lancelot was out of your hold and on his feet right away, not believing his ears, he faced away from you.

You inelegantly got up from the grass as well, your clothes a mess “Lance-”

“I do not want to hear it!” His voice was sharp and he turned to look at you “Do you believe I would stand aside and let you risk your life? Never.”

There was a long pause and he drew a couple of breaths to calm himself.

The question came out much softer “Where is this coming from, y/n?”

“My kin did this to the Fey, I-…” You fell quiet.

Lancelot was able to guess what was causing this “The faults of your uncle are not yours to bear.”

The words were forced out of you “And yet I bear them.”

Who was he to makes these claims while he himself had caused so much suffering?

Perhaps… it had made him the person who was able to see the difference.

The difference between kindness and hate.

He sought your presence once more and took your hands in his “You’re nothing like he was. He felt no guilt over what he did. And here you are, among my kind, helping.”

Your shoulders shrugged, throat closing up from emotion “Helping with what? I haven’t done a thing to earn my place here-”

He cradled your head and silenced you “Tell that to Neia, the child who lives because you saw her in a crowd of people and choose to help while others ignored her existence.” his face was close to yours “Tell it to Percival who would have watched me die if you had not found us.”

His forehead rested against yours, noses touching and the intimacy of it had the love for him flourish further inside of you.

Others could see…

Heaven you wanted him…

He showed more restraint than you, well… maybe his eyes did not.

They dropped from yours down to your chest and it reminded you that he had unlaced some of your dress.

You brought a finger under his chin and tilted it up a little until he met your eyes again “Rude.”

His face flushed a bit and for a second he had the look of a guilty young boy “I-”

You didn’t let him apologize for it “You were the one to open it, be a dear and close it for me again.”

He matched your playful politeness “Can it wait?”

The smack against his arm made a laugh fly out of him

Out of actual politeness, he did do as ask asked and closed the laces “You are not the only one with a personal vendetta against the Abbot. The man tried to have me killed the night I left with Percival. I have not forgotten his arrogance and the desire I had to erase it from his face.”

Preferably by bloodying it up.

The knot in the laces was tied again “You are not alone in this, y/n.”

You did not want to argue over this, not when this had been such a lovely walk mere moments ago.

So you nodded and tried to draw him closer just when he took a step back.

He tsked you right away “We are not alone anymore.”

With a discreet head tilt, he pointed out the other Feys foraging the woods too.

Fine then.

You picked up the basket again that you had filled with flowers and grabbed the sword from where it had fallen while he collected his own from where he had planted them.

While doing so, you noticed the way the group of Feys where looking at you.

Not a friendly look, no, it was one of disgust.

It came as another reminder that even you could not erase your connection to Father Carden, to them you were an invader, a trespasser…

Lancelot was Fey, in time he would find his place. He was Ash Folk, a kind born to protect the Fey with their magic.

But you… you would always be Manblood. No mark would ever change that.

He was more distant now that others were there to see it, but not distant enough to not walk closely beside you when returning to the city.

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  Upon the sun’s departure and the moon’s slow arrival there had been no news from Gawain. The Green Knight must have decided not to act on the opportunity in Helgenstone, or perhaps one of the others had talked him out of the idea.

Now you sat in Neia’s room, braiding the flowers you had picked into her hair as best as you could. Percival was even helping by sorting out the, according to him, disgusting flowers from the pretty ones.

Yes, the boy was strong of opinion and you tried not to take it personal.

“This one stinks.” He held one up.

Lancelot would have disagreed…

“That one then?” You pointed at another flower.

Percival handed you the other one, approving of the idea.

Neia couldn’t stop touching her hair in excitement and multiple times she ‘commanded’ Percival to hand her the small hand mirror.

Of course the boy sighed and rolled his eyes, still he indulged her wish every time.

At some point her eyes had caught sight of the bangle on your arm and you handed it to her for a bit so you could work on her hair without her constantly fidgeting with it.

To your silently amazement, the flowers you had picked kept their beauty, as if their health remained the same when in connection with Fey kind.

You’d never seen her so happy and all it took were some flowers in her hair. All the flowers where white, like she had in her hair the day you met her.

She held up the bangle and asked “Where did you find it?”

Percival answered it “Lancelot gave it to her.”

You confirmed it was true “Percival is right. Lancelot gave me that bangle.”

Neia was pensive “Like you gave me your necklace?”

You hummed agreeing and added the last flower to her hair, you almost asked her if she had indeed sold the necklace, but her situation had been so dire that it was a given.

After fidgeting with the bangle a little more, she handed it back to you.

Well, actually she took it upon herself to put it over your hand and around your wrist again.

Then she noticed the mark on your arm “Fey marks?”

It had her so very confused to see those marks on a Manblood.

Percival, the cheeky rascal, chimed in “Lancelot gave her those too.”

This time you squinted your eyes at him but his grin did not falter “I wonder, does the Ash Man tell you secrets, Percival?”

The shit-eating grin on his face should have been a warning.

Percival thought he would surprise you with the news “He fancies you.”

Neia’s mouth dropped open at the claim and then she looked at you for your reaction as well.

You saw a chance and feigned to be surprised by the admission “Really? What makes you think that?”

The boy believed he had a chest filled with knowledge no one else knew off.

But nothing could have prepared you for the secret he so bluntly decided to share.

Percival casually answered “He stares at you a lot. And at your bottom.”

Right away you covered Neia’s ears “Percival…”

A big grin was plastered on his face “What? It’s true. And he gave you a mark and jewelry.”

Your face was burning from his bluntness “Just…I…”

Without knocking, the door creaked open and Pym tripled into the room.

“Oh, here you are.” Her attention fell from you to the flowers in Neia’s hair “Ooh, that looks nice.”

Neia beamed with pride over her freshly styled hair.

Pym struggled a little to walk into the room with the food she had wrapped up in linen.

Of course Percival was quick to help her.

“One for each of you.” She quickly told the boy.

He handed Neia one and Pym handed you the other.

She plopped down on Neia’s bed “I thought you might be hungry and brought you some bread and fruit.”

It had been a good guess, you were indeed quite hungry “Thank you, Pym. I haven’t really eaten anything today.”

Neia took a bite from her pear and pleaded “Can you read us a story before we have to sleep?”

You were about to agree to it, but Pym made the sacrifice instead.

“I’ll ready you a story.” She told Neia, then said to you “You can go and rest if you want to. I know you weren’t able to sleep last night.”

You asked “Are you sure?”

Pym had no problem entertaining the children “I’m sure. Go on, off you pop.”

Before doing so, you gave Neia a hug. Doing the same with Percival was a bit of a challenge and the boy rolled his eyes, as if it was just to indulge you that he’d allowed it.

Heaven forbid one might know that he loved it…

“Goodnight.” You told them, telling Pym “And thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled, then pointed at the food in your hands “Eat your food.”

Your smile matched hers “I will.”

By the time you reached the door, Neia had already pulled a book from under her pillow and put it in Pym’s hand.

You went over to your room and snatched the satchel from under your bed to get the socks out of them. Anne would not have wanted them to go to waste…

Then you returned to Neia’s room, finding Pym busy reading the story Neia had requested and clearly adding some commentary to it when she disagreed with the actions of the characters in said book.

You went over to Pym and placed the sock next to her on the bed “Maybe you can use these?”

She glanced down for a moment and back up at you “Oh, wow. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” You were glad to hear that she seemed happy to have them “I’ll leave you to it now. If you need me, I will be in my room.”

Neia waved at you as you left. Percival laid draped over the foot of the bed, eyes up at the ceiling while listening to the story.

  The moment you were back in your room, you put the food Pym had given you into the now empty satchel along with a flask of water.

There wouldn’t be much you would need, the most important thing was the sword and knife at your side.

You did change into something more suitable for what you were about to do. Trousers and a shirt would be more comfortable than a dress for this. Luckily you found those in the old closet as well, the trousers had a stain or two at the legs. The shirt had a tear at the elbow.

Under the clothes, you discovered a long sleeveless leather vest, it fitted well over the shirt you had on now. And it would keep you warm along with the cloak.

Lastly, you pulled the tunic you had worn at the abbey from the closet.

It was strange to see it now, strange to know that the place and people you had called ‘home’ for a while was now gone.

The veil and coif were neatly folded between it, a sign of the respect you had for the women you had met there.

You would wear it one last time, one last service for the ones who had lost their lives.

After packing up the satchel, you put on your cloak and sat on your bed until all sounds in the hallway and outside dimmed down.

The dark of night cloaked the halls of the fortress in it’s shadows, while passing Lancelot’s room you removed your bangle and hanged it on the brass doorknob. If you were not to return, he would know that you had understood and accepted the risk of your actions.

As discreetly as one could, you made your way through the castle.

Once at the stables, you attached your satchel to Llamrai’s saddle and mounted the horse.

You hoped to reach Helgenstone in time, Wicklow would be there at noon.

Tomorrow the lands would be rid of a monster, or the kin of one.

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[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : The Patience Of A Heart    Chapter 6

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Story Summary: After fire claimed the lives of your family, the monastery of your Uncle Carden becomes your new home. As the niece of a priest you are expected to behave prim and proper, but not even the watchful eyes of the Weeping Monk can see all. An ancient magic returns to life when love and duty begin to blur.

Chapter Title: The Many Faces Of Evil

Notes: Nearly done proofreading the other chapters. Pfew.

Warnings: There's a list of warnings for this story: Murder. Violence. Death. Angst. Sexism. Strong Language. Trauma. Childhood trauma. Survivor's guilt. Mentions of child maltreatment. Threat of Sexual assault. PTSD. Misogyny, Self-flagellation. Gore.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Pining. Smut. Spicy content. Little Slow-burn.

Word count of this fic: +110K

Chapter:  6 / lol Gonna keep the chapter count a secret until the end.

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The next time you saw the Monk was in the dinning hall that evening.

The soup in front of your nose was slowly getting colder, uncle Carden’s violent response was far from forgotten.

And the fluttering sensation in your stomach had chased away all hunger.

Intense blue orbs were stealing glances at you from across the room, you could feel it…

Taken a sip of water did nothing to calm the nerves that had taken hold, it had never felt like this after a kiss before… not this strong.

Could it even be called such?

Perhaps it was best not to speak of it, what if all it brought was more heartache and the end of a friendship?

Brother Albert, who sat beside you, had no problem drinking his soup, the slurping mixed with those of the other paladins.

You twirled the spoon in your bowl of soup, making it at least look like you were busy with it.

Father Carden took notice and loudly questioned “Dear y/n, I see you have not tasted the soup. Are you ill?”

You barely made eye-contact, feeling stares aimed at you “No, uncle.”

The priest waited for an explanation and saw you stubbornly ignore him “Wh-”

You were quicker “I think I’ll just retreat to my chamber for the night.”

He must have sensed that you were still just as bitter and angry as he was about what happened earlier “Very well.”

It was perhaps petty, but when you moved your chair back, you let the feet of the chair drag sharply over the tile floor.

If they could stand the sound of slurping, they could stand the sharp pitch of the chair too.

The Monk’s hand hid the smirk that was present on his face.

Father would not appreciate the response to your attitude.

Someone was behaving feisty today…

There was a very quick moment of eye-contact between you and the Monk when you loudly put the chair back under the table.

You looked so smug…

He looked quite entertained.

With your head held high, you walked to the door “Goodnight, Brothers?”

It set off a choir of their responses to it, some of the paladins earned a glare from your uncle when they sounded a bit too eager to wish you a good night.

The Monk bit his tongue until you walked past him to the door, he did not lift his eyes from the table and tried to sound almost bored “Rest well, Lady y/n.”

You gave a shallow nod in response and left the room without saying a word to your uncle.

But you did not retreat to your room right away as you had claimed, instead you went outside.

Even though any trips outside the monastery were currently forbidden, a small walk around the building was permitted. With the slap the Monk had received in your stead in mind, you did your best to not agitate uncle Carden further.

With your fingertips dragging along the wall, you continued the walk and enjoyed the seeing the sun going down.

You’d reached the back of the monastery, it didn’t take long to reach another corner but footsteps behind you alerted you to another person’s presence.

A smile grew “Did my uncle order you to keep an eye on me here too?”

It was when the answer did not come that you realized something wasn’t right…

A look over your shoulder confirmed your fear…this was not the Monk but a stranger armed with a sword.

His hand was quick to muffle the scream for help you emitted.

With your nails, you clawed at your assailant’s face. The Fey markings of the Sky Folk rose to the surface of his skin in return.

Fey?

His grasp on you wasn’t strong enough and you broke free.

“HELP!” You screamed and tried to flee, but he grabbed your wrist painfully hard.

“Avo, come help!” The man called for the reinforcement and when he pulled at your wrist, the bangle slipped from it. The silver cut into your skin before it dropped to the grass.

The bastard was trying his best to keep your mouth covered.

You struggled and fought until something struck the side of your head.

After that, all went dark.

“Dammit, Avo! Where were you? That almost went wrong!” Finch quietly snapped at his accomplice.

“I’m sorry, I was getting the wagon closer.” He gave the poor explanation.

Finch ordered the younger one to help drag you off to the wagon “We did it. We’ve got that red priest’s niece. He’ll pay fine coin for her.”

The younger one simple followed the agreed upon plan “And when he does, we’ll let her go?”

Finch brushed it off “We’ll see.”

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 The absence of Father’s niece came to light when a paladin had went to bring a message and found your room abandoned.

The news reached the Monk first, who had believed you must have been somewhere else in the monastery.

But when he caught the Fey scent nearby, he suspected foul play.

Father was alerted and so were his red brothers.

The search began outside the monastery.

Tracks… three sets of them…

And minutes later, he found the bangle he had gifted you.

Fresh dried blood stained the inside of it, it must have been yours.

He brought it up to his nose when no one saw, detecting the faint scent of the Sky Folk.

The Monk hid the bangle in his pocket and was still kneeling on the grass when Father stopped next to him.

“Found anything?” Father demanded to know.

He pointed at the flattened grass “Tracks. And the scent of Fey kind.”

The priest was not happy to hear it “You believe Fey have taken her?”

The Monk feared it was indeed so “Yes.”

The command came “Find her! And slaughter anyone who has partaken in this!”

It was not necessary to ask, he was already thinking of it “Yes. Father.”

All of a sudden a child approached the monastery, the young boy was stopped by a paladin. A letter was given to the paladin by the boy.

Father Carden had seen it happen and called out to the paladin “What is it?”

The paladin took a quick look at the parchment “A letter Father! It is about Lady y/n!”

He had risen to his feet quickly, but he was still forced to wait until Father had read the letter before the parchment was angrily tossed into his hands.

After reading the vile letter, he swore to find and kill whoever was responsible for this.

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 You had regained consciousness when they had dragged you into a cave and feared the worst.

With bound hands, the one who had attacked you first had purposely made you trip and fall to the ground.

Torches in the stone lighted the place, it looked like they had been living here for a while.

There was another man, young looking with hair so light it was more white than golden, who looked at you almost apologetically.

The other was far from remorseful, he brushed a hand through his raven hair which betrayed his vanity “Now we wait for an answer.”

Avo thought back to the moment they’d first spoken to the child “You think that boy will come back to us, Finch?”

Finch had forced a Manblood child to deliver the letter with his demands to the priest, he had threatened the child until the boy had bursted into tears.

The situation had seemingly no impact on him, his calm demeanor was unsettling to behold “He’d better. I know where his home is.”

A coldblooded criminal if you’d ever seen one… the other merely an accomplice.

Their attention fell on you again and you demanded answers “Why have you done this? Why am I here?”

Finch’s slender fingers touched your cheek and he found enjoyment in how you recoiled from it “Be still, girl.”

The other chimed in “Your dear old uncle is going to give us what we want if he wants to get you back.”

Finch gave a shallow nod while continuously trying to touch your shoulder or face “You must be worth something to that old bastard. Even if it is just to save his honor, he’ll do what we ask or lose his niece at the hands of the enemy.”

If his demands included stopping the mission, this man would be very disappointed soon “My uncle will not stop what he is doing.”

He cared little for your information “Oh, I know. But we will certainly get the coin we asked.”

Avo tried to keep you calm “It isn’t personal, Miss.”

Finch disagreed on that “It isn’t personal?” he pointed at you rudely “It is personal, Avo! This bitch is Father Carden’s kin! The blood of the Fey is on her hands too!”

You defended yourself against the accusation “I’ve never hurt a Fey!”

The defiance was met by the back of Finch’s hand striking you across the face.

The shock of it was fast to silence you.

Finch lowered himself in front of you “Listen, Manblood. Your uncle has burned our homes and murdered our people. If you weren’t worth something alive, I’d set you aflame right now and leave your burned corpse at Carden’s doorstep. Count your blessings for these final hours, they’ll be over soon.”

He stood abruptly, turning to Avo “Once our demands are met, we’ll return her.”

The younger one inquired innocently “Alive?”

Finch mocked him for thinking it “I didn’t say that.”

Avo sounded uncertain “We would kill her?”

Finch tilted his head and stared at you “Maybe I’ll keep her.” he gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him “Or maybe I’ll send her back after all. With a Fey child growing in her, I bet the priest would go mad.”

The implied threat made it difficult to stay calm.

The younger one quietly uttered his believe “He’d cast her out.”

Finch let go off your chin “Good. Then she’ll know how it feels like.” he snapped his fingers “Stand up, Manblood.”

Your legs were shaking when you rose to your feet, feeling the bruises from the fall.

Avo tried “Finch-”

Finch paid him no mind “Shut it, Avo.”

He came to stand behind you and when his arms moved to your front you felt like shrinking.

The cords of your cloak were untied and he removed it, tossing it across the space.

This felt like he was out to humiliate you.

Right away you crossed your arms over your chest and hugged yourself “Leave me alone.”

He tsked you arrogantly, tapping on the sword at his side to remind you why cooperation was wiser “Don’t be cold. Maybe if you show me that you can be sweet to a Fey, I might change my mind on killing you after this.”

From the corner of your eyes, you saw that Avo was not moving, only watching the bastard bother you.

When no response came, Finch put a hand on your back and let it glide lower.

You kept your composure as good as one could, a plan formed inside your mind.

“Good girl. See that Avo? I think she can play nice if she wants to.” He praised, looking over at Avo who still did not agree with the situation.

Finch circled around to face you and was gentler than expected when cupping your face “No wonder that the Weeping Monk is always near when you are. The priest knew how valuable you would be in the hands of his enemies, of course he ordered his mutt to keep guard.”

But you, you were more aggressive than he expected in response to his words.

Your hands were bound but your knee was free to jerk up and hit him in the groin.

A curse escaped him as he buckled over in pain.

With a simple push, you made him fall into Avo who had gotten closer to help his accomplice.

With the two of them busy, you bolted out of there.

The tunnels of the cave were sometimes narrow and terribly dark, it was a miracle you choose the right ones to find the exit.

A wagon stood outside, the horse’s reins were tied to a tree. Releasing those reins would take too much time, you had to run before they caught up with you.

And so began your aimless escape into the forest.

Dammit, it was cold at night and you could barely see, the moon was mostly hidden behind the clouds.

The sound of their voices was reaching you as they began their chase.

Arriving at a small river stream, you were forced to find away around it or follow it.

Time was not your friend and following it was the option chosen.

In your hurry, you did not spot the animal trap on the ground and the moment you stepped on the hidden rope, it went off.

The rope caught you by the ankle and pulled your leg from under you, you hit the ground hard, leg dangling from the branch of a tree.

Shit.

It had been meant for an animal to be caught with, luckily it wasn’t build to pull you higher.

Still it proved a pain to untie the knot in the rope, the bound hands only made it worse.

The rustling of leaves alerted to the presence of others.

Finch mocked you right away “Well, well, looks like you got yourself into some trouble.” he knelt down beside you while Avo approached the scene “You haven’t been very nice to me. If you weren’t worth coin, I’d leave you for the wolves.”

You were stuck sitting on the ground “I’d prefer them over your company!”

The short laugh that escaped the youngest only made Finch glare back at him.

Finch drew his sword, swung and cut through the rope close to your ankle.

It had nearly cut you…

Roughly he pulled you from the ground “Get up! We aren’t done with you, Manblood.”

You were shoved into Avo’s hands by him, who kept a firm hold but not as rough as his comrade.

Not much later, you were back in that cave. Finch had bound your ankles together too before he left you alone with Avo to see if that child had returned to their meeting place yet.

Avo used his sword to sharpen a branch to pass the time.

Minutes passed before you dared to try and reason with him “Your friend is making a grave mistake. My uncle knows no mercy, if he knows that you have taken me, they will burn you for it.”

His attention did not lift from the steel “That priest won’t spare us either way. When we have the coin, we can leave these lands.”

The fact that he was calmer made you more confident “Please, you’re friend will kill me. I never believed that the Fey were evil and I don’t believe you to be either. Let me go, I will not tell anyone what has happened.”

Avo turned his attention to you “You don’t believe me to be evil?”

You shook your head.

His eyes dropped to the sword again “You’re wrong. Ever since the war began, I have killed to survive, I have killed for coin. There is evil to be found all around us, remember that. And if Finch kills you, I’ll stand beside him still.”

The hope that he was a better person went and left you, the only difference between them was the patience the younger one showed.

Finch returned looking displeased while informing the younger one “No sign of the boy.”

Avo began to worry “Surely the priest will pay for her?”

It came out like he had already thought it through “He will. Or she’ll pay for wasting our time. We wait ‘till tomorrow at noon, then we’ll decide.”

Like a scorned child, Finch walked up to you while you were sitting and pushed you over.

You landed on your side “Bastard!”

For a second it looked like he wanted to hit you again, instead he knelt down and pulled you upright by the rope at your wrists “You had your chance to play nice, remain quiet. Do as you’re told.”

You spat in his face and saw him recoil.

He immediately stood up and wiped his face clean, bitterly exclaiming “So be it.”

Finch reached down to grab you but this time Avo let his disapproval be known “Enough, Finch. She’s not worth the hassle.”

It halted him, after a second of thought he agreed and let you be “I’m going to get some sleep. Keep watch, Avo.”

Avo simply gave a nod, growing visibly agitated with this behavior.

And still he refused to help…

  It had not been your intention to fall asleep, you just wanted to shut your eyes for a moment. And still you had gone into a shallow slumber.

The dream you had was strange, you had dreamed of incomprehensible whispers…

It was odd.

Where your sleep had been peaceful, your awakening was not.

One moment you were sleeping on the ground, the next the ropes at your ankles were cut loose and you were pulled roughly to your feet.

When you blinked to focus your eyes, you thought it had all been a nightmare.

The Monk stood not far away, sword drawn.

It was the fresh blood staining the steel that made you aware that all of it had been real, it took another second to understand why he wasn’t coming closer.

The cold steel of a knife was against your throat.

Finch held you in his grasp, using you as a shield between himself and the Monk “Come any closer and you’ll be returning a corpse to the priest.”

It slipped from the Monk “Yes. Yours.”

Your abductor was not amused by it in the slightest “I hope you have brought the coin I asked for. By the looks of that sword, I take it that you have made me the sole recipient of the payment?”

He had lured the man out of the cave before dealing with him, now there was only one left and this bastard did not look shocked to learn that his accomplice was dead.

His voice dropped significantly “There will be no payment, the Church does not negotiate with the enemy.”

Finch made you lean more against him by moving the knife closer, his breath was so close to your ear that you wanted to squirm away from it “Unfortunately, I do not either. I am walking out of here with her, if you try to stop me I’ll cut her throat.”

This scum was behaving far too familiar with you and he hated the sight of it, hated to see how desperate you were to get away from it.

The Monk locked eyes with you, discreetly he let his gaze flick to the stone wall where the torch was.

Oh?

Finch moved a step back with you, his back facing the wall while his attention remained fixed on the Monk.

It dawned on you that the Monk was moving the way that he was with a purpose, it was a form of manipulating the direction that Finch was moving in.

Soon Finch had nearly gotten past him completely, then the Monk locked eyes with you again and gave a quick nod.

It was the signal for you to step back into Finch’s chest, it forced him back and the flame of the torch on the wall spread to his vest, the flames rose to his face almost instantly.

You were pulled to safety not a blink of an eye later by the Monk, he moved you to get behind him.

He was vigilant until he saw the flames overtake the bastard.

To him this was nothing new, but you did not want to hear the screams or see the result.

You pulled at the Monk’s sleeve “Lancelot…”

He would have stayed and watched the bastard burn.

Instead he found himself cutting the rope loose that bound your wrists. Then he took your hand in his and leaded you out of the place.

On your way out, you had to step over the body of Avo who had met his end by the Monk’s sword “You found me…”

It had not been easy, he had to ask the child who had brought the letter where they were to meet with your abductors again. The boy had not been there on the meeting spot, but he was. He had followed the man, who now burned, to the cave.

He wrapped an arm around you, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you walking beside him, concern filled him “Are you alright?”

You nodded but could see him scan your features.

Dawn was still to come, but even in the dark he could see a bruise forming on your cheek “They hit you.”

The hidden fury in his voice was undeniable and maybe he could even feel how much you were shivering “He did.”

He was quiet for a couple of steps while leading you to Goliath “Did anything else happen?”

The sight of that man acting indecent with you was gnawing at him. They had been alone with you for hours…

You were halted by him and he inspected you for any other visible injuries.

The bruise was visible, he took the liberty of touching your neck to inspect it. Next were your hands, the cut the bangle had caused had long since stopped bleeding.

“May I?” He inquired and let his fingers touch your sleeve.

After nodding, he moved your sleeves up one at a time, finding numerous bruises.

Some were clearly caused by a rough grasp, others perhaps a fall?

It surprised even yourself to see the amount of fresh bruising “The one who threatened to kill me was rough. I tried to escape not long ago, I fell after my ankle got stuck in an animal trap and they caught me again.”

That pulled his eyes up to yours again, having heard of such traps “If it was one of those traps I know of, you are lucky to still have your foot.”

Well, the force of it had caused a nasty fall “It does hurt.”

Without thinking, you bent and reached down to move your dress up a little to inspect your ankle.

He did a sharp inhale of air, not knowing where to look.

Then came your question “Does it look bruised? Maybe it’s broken.”

He could not see if it was if he kept looking at the trees…

And you sounded quite worried about it…

When he knelt down, you were taken aback by it.

Not once did he touch your bare lower leg, he did reach with the tips of his fingers but waited until you turned your foot yourself “It does not look broken. I can see the marks the rope left, I would expect it to show a bruise tomorrow. Does it burn?”

You pointed at the spot that burned “A bit, yes. Here.”

Cautiously his fingers touched the spot on your calf, the rope must have given a firm pull.

Was it swollen?

Concern made him bolder, he was trying to feel if there was swelling.

Your hand landed on his shoulder for balance “Uhm…Lancelot.”

Immediately he removed his hand from you and rose from the ground, having heard the pitch in your voice.

The apology was stammered “I am sorry. Forgive me, Lady y/n. It was not my intention to-”

You interrupted him “It’s alright. You did nothing wrong, I asked to look. I just…” there was a pause “…did not expect for you to be brave enough, usually you’re more reserved.”

Again he folded his hands behind his back to hide the fidgeting.

It was the slow blinking that accompanied your sweet smile that kept his gaze in your power.

That sweet smile made your mouth curve so alluringly, his thoughts went back to what had happened in the stables.

He avoided thinking of it too much, believing it had been an impulse you now regretted.

He reached into his pocket and pulled the silver bangle out, of course the blood was wiped off from it “I believe you lost this?”

You saw an opportunity and replied “No. I got bored of it and tossed it.”

It was no use, he saw right through the jest and handed it back to you.

You slipped the bangle on “Back there, you said the Church would not negotiate with the enemy. My uncle would have let me die?”

He did not dare answer that.

It was evasive “Father send me to find you.”

You understood it was difficult for him to speak ill of your uncle “But without the coin, they were going to kill me.”

He hoped his words would ease your mind “Coin or not, I will always come for you. No threat can stop me from doing so.”

It felt good to hear that someone still cared enough to just at least try to save you.

You pretended to question it “Even if my uncle tells you to just let me die in the future?”

Never had you seen a man move his hand so slowly to your arm, cautious fingers curled around it.

That slow nod meant more than any answer he could have verbally given. He would go against orders to keep you safe…

The hand moved to your back, a light push had you walking next to him again.

His palm hovered over your back until it was withdrawn completely again.

You came to a halt beside his horse and looked uncertain.

Without thinking he commented “Forgotten how to ride a horse?”

It earned him quite the look “Were you too distracted by my leg to notice my swollen ankle?”

He chewed his words while looking off into the trees again “If you need help getting up. Ask.”

Sarcasm dripped from your voice “Nah, I’ll just risk breaking my neck.”

When you actually went to mount alone, he was quick to be at your side to scold you for it “If you break your neck, I will lose mine.”

You mimicked his voice quietly.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and held on to your elbow “Come here.”

With a little help, you did manage to crawl up the horse, although it had not been very graceful.

You combed your fingers through the horse’s mane “I’m sorry about that.”

The Monk got up on the horse as well to sit behind you “It is alright.”

You withheld a laugh “I was talking to your horse, Lancelot.”

He did not let it shake him and quipped back “Unfortunately, Goliath cannot share with us his opinion on the dreadful way you just crawled on.”

The mumbled retort came fast “Or his opinion on his dreadful owner.”

A shit-eating grin grew on his face, he should be heading back to the monastery faster but he let Goliath keep a normal walking pace “Pardon?”

You simply looked back at him and arrogantly arched a brow, then proceeded to ignore him to pet Goliath again.

Not a second later, the Monk’s hand was on yours to replace it on the withers of the horse and he let you in on a little secret “He enjoys to be scratched there.”

Following the instruction, you scratched the spot “So that’s the secret?”

He wasn’t even aware that there was a charming smile playing on his lips “That and caring for him for years.”

You looked back at him again, matching the smile with your own “Is that what you intend to do with me too?”

Even though it sounded like it sounded partly sincere, he chose to continue jesting “The scratching or the caring?”

A laugh fell out of you “The caring!”

The Monk kept his composure “Well, when we get back, I will leave you in the stables and come to care for you in the morning like I do with Goliath.”

The cheekiness was greatly amusing “How dare you!”

When he leaned forward, it was to bump his chest into you on purpose “Is that not what you wanted?”

You scoffed, fighting the smile “I wonder what is stopping me from pushing you off this horse and ride off alone.”

There was the smuggest smirk and his voice deepened audibly “I am.”

Without looking back, you replied honest “No. It’s my attachment to you that is saving you.”

It brought him great delight to hear it.

He leaned back, straightening himself in the saddle, still jesting “So… I am?”

It still meant he himself was the reason you weren’t shoving him off the horse.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head “Shut up…”

Together you rode back to the monastery, arriving along with the dawn.

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[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : Playing With Fire         chapter 23

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Story Summary:  The Huntsman, that is what they called your brother. A name he had earned by hunting down the fey for coin. Coin that is given by Father Carden for his services. You refuse to stand aside and watch how your brother hunts down those who are fey. When you start to warn the fey camps your brother wishes to attack, you find yourself behind enemy lines. But when the Weeping Monk becomes suspicious of you, you realise you are playing with fire.

Chapter Summary:  The tunnel’s hold on you becomes stronger as it pushes you towards insanity. Percival and Lancelot begin to understand why the stories claimed that those who enter the tunnels never leave.

Notes: I always end up changing stuff last minute. Wasn’t sure about this chapter. Weird how I go from playful banter to this kind of shit. If you think this has tension between them, just you wait. *wink wink*

Warnings:  Uh... angst...?  Gore ?

Word count: 2201 words in this chapter.

Chapter:  23/ 33+ something 

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Your eyes snapped open at the voice, the soft sound of it brought back many memories.

“Magnolia ?” You couldn't believe your eyes as she stood before you as if she hadn't aged a day since you had last seen her. Was she really here ? How could they be here ??

She stepped closer to you, her eyes filled with concern “Y/n...what's wrong ?”

"I am lost...I am scared. Draegan is here..." A tear fell from your eyes.

Magnolia smiled the cute toothy grin she always had "Don't be scared, y/n. Be brave."

"How are you here ? You..you died.. I couldn't... I couldn't say goodbye..." You flung your arms around her and hugged her tightly against you.

Magnolia did not answer your question "I love you, y/n. I will always be with you, I'll keep you safe." Magnolia stroked your hair as she always did when she hugged you.

"I love you too, Mags." You smiled through the tears as you called her by her nickname.

You felt at peace, then your brow drew together as she had become silent suddenly. You pulled back to look at her face and saw that her eyes did not look right. They looked lifeless.

"Magnolia ?" You asked worried and then you saw it.

Blood was all over her chest, running down to her stomach. Staining her clothes in a dark crimson that almost looked black. Just like the night you had found her in the forest. She collapsed in your arms and you sank with her to your knees under the sudden weight. 

“MAGNOLIA ?! NO! HELP ?! SOMEBODY HELP !! PLEASE ?!” You screamed in agony as you held her lifeless body in your lap.

“Please no, please, please... I'm sorry please don't leave me again please..”

You brushed her hair from her face, cupping her face in your hand. You closed your eyes when you accepted that it was no use and sobbed loudly as you kept her in your arms. After a moment you felt that the weight was gone and you quickly opened your eyes. She was gone. You were on your hands and knees as you scanned your surroundings. She was gone again. Lost again. You hugged your arms around your chest not able to stop the sobs coming from you. Tears were flooding form your eyes, was this hell ? Would you ever see a living soul again ??? Was anything real ?? You jumped to your feet when you heard hurried footsteps coming from around the corner. You held your breath for what horrors you would face next.

"Y/n ?" A familiar voice called out to you. You spun around, expecting another dead person to haunt you.

OoooOOOoOOoOOOOooOOOOooOOOOOOOoOooOo

Lancelot froze when he saw you, when he saw the tears streaming from your eyes. You looked at him as if you were seeing a spirit. He noticed how afraid you looked, how you didn't seem completely aware of reality.

"Y/n ?" He said again, far more alarmed now.

The boy stayed at a distance, having seen how strange you were behaving "It's these tunnels ! It's doing this to her ! She's not a fey. She must be hallucinating !"

Lancelot finally understood what was happening, these tunnels were made to protect the fey, not man-bloods. This was what the stories warned about, but they were not just stories. They were a harsh reality and it was affecting you. He slowly approached you, reaching a hand out to you as he did "It's alright, y/n.. calm down.."

You stepped backwards and shook your head. You were shaking badly, feeling like you were trapped in a circle of hell "You're not real.." After all that, you did not believe he was actually there. This was just another trick to torment you.

His brows drew together at your words but he kept getting closer to you "I am real, y/n. These tunnels are distorting your reality."

You closed your eyes, putting your hands over your ears and kept repeating "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.."

Lancelot wondered what sort of things you must have seen to be in such a state.

"Y/n, look at me. Take my hand. You will see I'm real." He said firmly, attempting to get your attention to him.

You dared to open your eyes, and shakily reached out your hand to the one he held out to you.

What if this wasn't real ? Would you ever see a real person again ?

Your fingers touched his hand. You felt it. You felt that his skin was warm, and you grasped his hand. It felt real and you let out a sob. You took one big step and wrapped your arms around him, you clung to him as if you were clinging to your last bit of sanity. Fearing that if you would let go, he would disappear and something evil might take his place "Please be real... please be real.." You continued to whimper in despair.

Lancelot had no idea how to react to the situation now, your voice was laced with fear and sorrow. You sounded so lost, lost in whatever horrible hallucination you were experiencing before he found you here. Percival looked at him suprised, but he could see that the boy was sad to see you like this as well. It was just as painful for the boy as it was for him to hear how lost you sounded, to see you cry. He slowly put a hand on your back, you were clinging to him but he worried how you would react to this when you would finally regain your senses. Lancelot's was calm, hoping that it would help you calm down as well "Y/n, you're safe. Don't be afraid." 

When he felt how badly you were shaking he timidly brought his hand up and placed it on the back of your head. He had no real experience in comforting others, all he could do was hope that his actions would pull you out of your distraught state. A moment went by before he brushed his fingers  against your hair in a soothing matter. He looked over at percival who remained at a distance, he could see that the boy was fighting the urge to come nearer. Both of them feared what would happen if another person got closer to you, what if it made things worse ?

 It took a while before you started to calm down, all the while you did not let go off him. It was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and the soft brushing of his fingers on the back of your head that slowly brought you back to your senses. The warmth radiating from him felt very real. And he was not disappearing from your grasp. The combination of that was what broke the tunnels hold on you. And when it did, you stopped sobbing, eyes widening when you realised what you were doing. First you had wanted nothing more for this to be real, but now you started to silently panic. Oh gods, were you.. were you really hugging him ?

It was your hands patting his back as if you were testing something that made him aware that you had come to your senses. His hand stilled instantly. Would he... would he have to step away ? Was that a good idea or should he wait until you acted yourself ?

Both of you seemed to struggle with that dilemma. This was awkward...

You decided to speak up, it was you that got yourself into this awkward situation after all "Uhm...I.."

He was now silently panicking as well, what should he do ??

"You were hallucinating.." He stammered the words.

And with that you quickly let go off him and stepped away "I...these...the tunnels they messed with my mind." You gestured to your head and then to him.

A long pause followed.

"Clearly." Pecival was looking at you with wide eyes "Why else would you hug him ?"

Lancelot resisted the urge to glare at the boy for the hidden insult.

You wondered why it was that hugging him made you calm down. But when you came to your senses you were feeling another sort of unease.

You felt terribly nervous "Precisely ! We...uh... should get out of this place. Before it starts to mess with me again."

The boy walked over to you, shoving Goliath's reins back into Lancelot's hands, before taking your hand with his "Better not get lost again, y/n. Don't want him to think you like him or something."

You forced a small smile and avoided looking at Lancelot.

“You two walk ahead of me, or we might never leave this place.” Lancelot told you, his voice sounded strange. Melancholic almost.

You nodded and actually send him a soft smile. He only gave a short nod as he averted his eyes, focusing on the reins in his hands and you swallowed hard. You now regretted for acting like hugging him was a bad thing only because you felt embarrassed. You removed your hand from Percival's and told the boy “Wait here just a moment...”

Percival quirked a brow but shrugged his shoulders.

Lancelot send you an inquisitive look as you walked up to him, he opened his mouth to speak but was silenced when you wrapped your arms around him again. For a moment he feared the tunnels were affecting you again “Y/n ?”

You pulled him closer to you, feeling how he tensed up the moment you had embraced him. You let your head rest against his chest. You needed him to realise that you didn't hate him, that he wasn't a monster or unworthy of human contact or touch.  You almost whispered against his chest “I'm sorry, Lancelot. Embracing you was what freed me from this place's hold. It made me feel safe...because I trust you.” you took a deep breath “..Thank you.”

He drew a shuddering breath, realising how he had longed to hear those words from you. You finally trusted him and now you were embracing him. Not because the tunnels were messing with your mind, but out of your own free will. He relaxed in your embrace, no one had held him like this for as long as he could remember. And the fact that it was you doing so made him feel elated.

“If only you would hug me back so it doesn't look like I'm being weird...” You whispered very quietly against him, more to yourself.

A smile tugged at his lips when he could hear it, he could feel you start to tense up. Lancelot knew you were getting uneasy because of his lack of response and he brought up his hand, placing it between your shoulders as he moved you just a little closer to him again. Having you so close to him made him aware that you smelled good. He closed his eyes for a second, resisting the desire to hold you more tightly. It felt as if something inside of him was being restored, but there was also something new growing inside of him. Something he couldn't place.

“Is she hallucinating again ?” Percival interrupted Lancelot's peaceful train of thought.

You snorted at the boy's comment and moved away from Lancelot “No. Not at all. I am very much in my mind right now.”

“Are you sure ?” The boy quirked a brow, having a hard time believing that.

You narrowed your eyes at the boy “Percival. I am not hallucinating. I know you two are real.”

“Weird...” The boy scrunched his nose and quietly commented even more confused, his attention went to the drawings on the wall now.

You were very aware that Lancelot had helped you more then he realised in these tunnels. You felt incredibly grateful and felt like just thanking him was not enough. He had saved you from those horrors, the hug was not enough. Perhaps it was to him, but not to you.

And what happened next caught him completely off-guard.

He had felt how your fingers landed on his jaw and had tilted his head, before he could react you had pressed your lips to his cheek.

He felt rooted to the spot.

It was a quick peck on the cheek out of gratitude and you let go off him immediately after.

“Thank you for coming to find me.” You spoke hastly before walking back to the boy who had been to busy staring at the wall to see it happen.

Lancelot's eyes were blown wide, it happened so fast he almost thought it was a figment of his imagination. He felt a tingling sensation go down his neck and spine.

You and the boy had already started walking again but stopped when you didn't hear Lancelot follow with Goliath.

"Please, don't tell me you're hallucinating too !" Percival called out to Lancelot. If he didn't know these tunnels were safe for fey, Lancelot might have believed that to be true.

Finally he started to follow you and the boy as he tried to get his breathing under control again.

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[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : Playing With Fire     chapter 15

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Story Summary:  The Huntsman, that is what they called your brother. A name he had earned by hunting down the fey for coin. Coin that is given by Father Carden for his services. You refuse to stand aside and watch how your brother hunts down those who are fey. When you start to warn the fey camps your brother wishes to attack, you find yourself behind enemy lines. But when the Weeping Monk becomes suspicious of you, you realise you are playing with fire.

Chapter Summary: You sneak the Monk and Percival into Mirstone. Helping the Monk proves difficult as his stubborness matches your own.

Notes: Let me know what you think, please. ^.^ And sorry for some of the next chapters to come. And yep I am re-using some of the gifs I made. Also this chapter was absolute hell to write, I had like five different versions to piece this together whelp

Warnings:  Trauma, mentions of selfharm, mentions of past abusive violence.

Word count: 2841 words in this chapter.

Chapter:  15/ 33+ something (buckle up, it’s a wild ride.)

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Night had already fallen when you arrived at Mirstone, both of you had agreed that it would be wise to leave the horses in a safe place nearby just in case. You knew you would have to sneak them into the village, preferably without being spotted, you did have a fey boy with you. Luckily you had lived here long and guided the Monk and Percival past the tents and homes with ease. The Monk suddenly stopped you in your tracks when he spotted one of your brother's men "Over there." You looked at where he was pointing at. Your eyes narrowed when you saw him. Ah. Brogan. "We will have to wait until he leaves." The Monk let out a pained groan, starting to regret coming here at all. Brogan was drinking from his flask, filled with ale no doubt. As the Monk lowered to his knees to rest for a moment you took his moment of faltered alertness to move away from him and the boy. Percival noticed, you brought a finger to your lips gesturing for him to remain silent. He gave a short nod but watched with wary eyes as you picked up a shovel that was leaning against a tent. You sneaked up to Brogan who had his back turned to you, only then did the Monk become aware of your absence. He immediately looked up only to see you slam the metal of the shovel against the back of Brogan's head. Brogan hit the ground as he fell unconcious. You grabbed that stupid ragged hat from his head and shoved it in his mouth before removing his belt and using it to tie his hands behind his back. It gave you a sick sense of gratification "I should have done that much earlier..." You beckoned for Percival and the Monk to come your way. The latter looked impressed but not happy with your action. You supported him again as you helped him to your home. "That was reckless." He actually scolded you. "Says the man that tried to free a woman and boy, and ended up having to fight the Trinity Guards." You shot back. "I won..." He quietly protested and actually smirked at the memory. "Barely." You quipped nodding to him, to the state he was in. He rolled his eyes at your comment, knowing it was true. He wouldn't have survived. He didn't plan to survive the fight. He had given you an oppurtunity to run away with the boy. Never had he expected that you would risk your lives to help him. And yet, here you were, dragging him to your home. The last time he was there he had held his sword to your throat and now you were helping him. With some difficulty you were able to open the door, it's hinges were terribly rusty. It creaked open and you helped him inside, it would be a stupid thing to help him downstairs. The door let into the kitchen immediately, if someone were to look inside through the windows they would discover you instantly.

“We should go to my bedchamber. They could see us through the windows down here.” You looked at the Monk apologetic.

He moved away from you and leaned against the wall, clearly not looking forward to having to climb a set of stairs.

“Percival, you go first. Don't want you to be behind us in case he falls down. Okay ?” There was a possibility it would happen.

“Alright, fine. Do I help ?” The boy looked up at you and the Monk.

You shook your head “No, thank you. This could get dangerous.”

The boy nodded in understanding and hurried up the stairs, looking down at you now “Well, come on then !”

You nodded to the Monk, not able to suppress the chuckle coming from you “You heard him. Do you need my help ?”

The Monk seemed to consider your offer, alerting you that he was indeed not fit to climb the stairs on his own in his state. You didn't wait for his answer and moved his arm over your shoulder and wrapped your arm around his back. He was taken aback by your action but let you help him up the stairs this way. It took a while but you managed to get him upstairs without tumbling down the steps. He leaned against the doorway breathing heavily, as he regained his composure. Now came the awkward part, for you to be able to help him and stitch up his wounds, you would have to see them. And by the uncomfortable silence in the room you knew the Monk was aware of it.

“It is hard to treat wounds you can't see...” You broke the silence and tried to sound casual.

The Monk gave a nod, not looking at you. You looked at the boy who quirked a brow and shrugged. You cleared your throat and awkwardly held out a hand towards the Monk. The situation was uncomfortable for both of you but this was not speeding things up at all. His eyes focused on you now, he send you an inquiring look. You straightened your back, not wanting to show how nervous you were “Shall I take your cloak ?”

Being straightforward proved fruitful as he finally started to take off his cloak, he handed it to you and you put it aside while he started to peel off the other layers that covered his torso.

You averted your eyes and looked to the boy instead “Are you hungry ?”

His eyes widened and he nodded, you quickly went downstairs to grab some bread and leftovers you could find before going back to your room. You gave the food to the boy who uttered a 'thank you' as he shoved some bread in his mouth. You had also brought something to eat for the Monk, and put it aside. You finally looked at the Monk and felt your breath hitch in your throat. Sure, you had seen a man's torso before but none of the people in your village looked like this. The Monk was far more muscular then you could have guessed. Of course he would be, with all that fighting he did. You hated to admit that even with the dark bruises and the bleeding wounds he looked good. If he had been anyone else you would have complimented him, but this was the person who had threatened your life not long ago in the room downstairs. The Monk had not noticed you staring at him, he was busy examining the wounds on his abdomen. When he turned a little to examine one on the side of his body right below his rib cage your gaze fell on his back and you swallowed back a gasp. Scars were scattered all over his back, recent wounds were mixed between them. Your brother often 'joked' how the Red Paladins were Father Carden's whipped hounds. That was his way of saying some of them engaged in self-flagellation to cleanse themselves. The amount of scars shocked you, you doubted the other paladins would have this many of them. Deep down you knew this was because the Monk felt he needed to cleanse himself over something he could not control, his fey heritage.

Most were healed but there were recent ones that looked no longer then a day old. Had he done this to himself the day he saved you and the boy ? Had he felt so much inner turmoil that he felt he needed to suffer for it ? He turned to look at you, having picked up on the uncomfortable silence. You averted your eyes, trying not to show that you had been staring but he had caught you doing it. "I can see if I have something for those..." You quietly spoke and gestured to his back. The Monk quietly shook his head even though the wounds on his back were burning "There is not enough time. It will be dawn soon."

He went to sit down on the edge of your bed. You gave a nod in understanding, you knew it would be dawn soon but something told you that that wasn't the real reason why he had refused your help. You grabbed the bowl of water you had on the table next to your bed and wetted the piece of cloth, preparing to clean the wounds so you could treat them.

“How did you get those ?” The boy suddenly asked and you saw the Monk's expression change. He swallowed thickly not acknowledging the question. How could he even start to explain it to the boy ?

You picked up on his reluctance to answer and turned to the boy "Percival, will you help me ?" He quickly nodded and you started to give him instructions. "Thank you, listen well. Go downstairs, crawl under the table. One of the floorboards is loose, under there you will find a small chest with some bottles with fey medicine and herbs. Will you bring me that chest, please ?" The boy had left the room to fetch the items without replying. 

"He's eager to help..." You let out a chuckle unaware the Monk was staring at you.

When you looked at him, you shrugged your shoulders "What ?"

He scoffed and shook his head, not believing how reckless you had been "You keep fey items in your home ? If they had known they would have killed you just for that."

You rinsed the extra water out of the cloth and he held his hand out to take the cloth from you, he wasn't looking at you, his attention was on one of the wounds on his torso now.

"That's why they were hidden." You casually said before reaching out with your hand to his bare arm, close to the deep gash he had there. He had removed your scarf to examine it. You had just wanted to clean away the blood to look at the wound but he flinched when he felt the damp cloth touch his arm, never expecting you to take it upon yourself to help him like this.

"I...can do it." So few words and yet he stumbled over them.

You raised a brow looking at him in doubt “Don't take this the wrong way, but you already hit the ground not long ago and I almost had to carry you up those few steps. If you insist on doing this alone you will still be here when the sun rises.”

The Monk scoffed at your comment and shook his head muttering “...carry me..”

You ignored him and tried to touch his arm so you could help him.

He moved so he stayed out of your reach, some of the blood running down his arm landed on your sheets.

"Stop moving and stop bleeding !" You said in frustration.

It made him look at you, eyes slightly widened. It made you realise how strange that probably sounded to him. "You're ruining my sheets, blood isn't easy to wash out you know ?" You almost pouted at the red now staining your white sheets.

"I'm aware." He stated the obvious as he looked at the sheets now.

Finally you sighed and spoke, your voice dripping with sarcasm "Would you be more at ease if you had your sword in your hands ? You weren't this uncomfortable when you visited my home the last time."

He stared at you for a moment and then he understood what you were talking about. The night he had warned you to stop warning the fey. He had felt strange when he had to hold you into place back then too, it had felt almost intimate then as well. But now you were trying to touch his bare skin and he didn't know why it made him so nervous, as if it was almost sinful. Which was ridiculous because you were just trying to help. It was his upbringing that caused him to react like this, he knew it was.

"You were not trying to help me that night if I recall." He deadpanned.

You frowned at that "You are more comfortable with me hitting you with a pan, then me helping you ?"

In truth, he was used to violence. He was not used to soft hands carefully touching him. So you were not far from the truth when you had asked that.

He answered with a hint of sarcasm "People don't usually touch me to help me."

"I wonder why." You shot back.

He looked up at you at that, noting the smirk that disappeared a second later.

"I mean... you are not making it easy for me here..." You gestured to him, damp cloth still in your hands "Did you never see a healer ?"

He had, even though he always tried to avoid getting an injury bad enough that he would need a healer "I have."

"Well, think of me as a healer then...it's the same thing." You tried your best to convince him.

He scoffed at that, knowing it was not the same at all. He never spoke to the healers, he didn't know anything about them and none of them were women.

"It's not the same." He replied, sounding a bit shorter then he had intented.

You were getting frustrated, this was going nowhere "Why ? What's the difference between me helping you or another stranger ?"

"You are." The words spilled out of him and he wished he had kept his mouth shut.

You were silent now as you thought about that statement.

He really did not wish to elaborate further on that, what would he even say ? That you touching his skin made him feel...strange ? A foreign feeling, something he had not felt before. Something he could not place. Only that it did not feel bad. That was perhaps the problem, it felt pleasant. It was something he believed he shouldn't feel.

Then you came to your own conclusion "You don't trust me to help you..."

He looked up at you right away, one thing he did know for certain was that he trusted you. Sure, you had lied to him about having stopped with warning the fey, but otherwise you had always been honest. Blatantly and recklessly honest sometimes. And you could have left him to die alone in the forest, instead you had brought him into your home to help him.

"I trust you." It was a statement that he needed you to hear.

You were not expecting to hear that coming from the Monk.

You were a bit taken aback "If you do, then please let me help you before you bleed to death on my bed."

He avoided looking at you, the conflict inside of him was clawing at him.

You took his silence as refusal “An infection could kill you ! Don't you care if you live or die ?!" "Not really. No." The truth came from his mouth faster then he could prevent it. "I care ! So stop moving and let me help you !" You were exasperated at this point. It appears that the more frustrated you became, the more stubborn he got so you tried a different approach.

You let out a deep sigh “Please, let me help you... Lancelot.” It was strange saying his name out loud for the first time.

And unbeknownst to you, hearing you call him by his actual name for the first time was why he finally gave in. He had only ever heard you call him 'Monk' until now. Finally he caved in, he looked at you and slowly nodded.

You cautiously took his arm in your hand and started to clean away the blood. You couldn't help but feel nervous, you couldn't push the thought away that you were washing blood off of someone who could easily kill you if he wanted to.

You tried to push the thought away, so far he had not threatened you anymore. You tried to be gentle but time was of the essence, this had to be finished before dawn. And in your haste you accidentally rubbed against the wound too roughly. He actually let out a short pained yell and you jumped and flinched as if he had hit you even though he had not laid a hand on you. You had sewn up your brother before, before you knew how he got his wounds. After you found out the truth about the origin of his wounds you had sewed him up one last time and did such a terrible job that he no longer demanded you to do so. But you were so used to your brother hitting you when you accidentally hurt him while sewing him up that it caused you to panic now. And you did what you had always done in that situation, you apologized.

“I'm sorry..I...I didn't mean to...” Your voice shook and your hands trembled.

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[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : Playing With Fire    chapter 3

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Story Summary:  The Huntsman, that is what they called your brother. A name he had earned by hunting down the fey for coin. Coin that is given by Father Carden for his services. You refuse to stand aside and watch how your brother hunts down those who are fey. When you start to warn the fey camps your brother wishes to attack, you find yourself behind enemy lines. But when the Weeping Monk becomes suspicious of you, you realise you are playing with fire.

Chapter Summary: You are less then pleased with the situation you find yourself in and find yourself unable to resist the urge to pester the Monk. The Monk tries to figure out who he is dealing with and what he should do.

Warnings: None in this one I think.

Word count: 1669 words in this chapter.

Chapter:  3/ 30+ something (buckle up, it’s a wild ride.)

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After what felt like you had circled the whole damn forest, the Monk finally stopped. The sun was going down when he descended from his horse and walked towards you. He grabbed the rope and started to bundle it in his hands as he approached. You thought about your options. Running ? Not without the boy and he had a horse. Fighting ? Without a weapon you had little chance. He took hold of your upper arm and started to pull you along “Don't try to escape. I will capture you again, and I will not be this polite. Understood ?” You glared at him “What is your plan, Monk ? Why have you dragged me and this boy through the forest ?” He stopped next to a tree and started to bind the rope around it, and you realised he was keeping you at a distance from the boy. Which would make escaping near impossible as you could not reach the boy to untie him. “I will tell you mine if you tell me yours.” He looked at you and you knew he must suspect something about you. You ignored him, something he expected. “No ? Then I will let you resume your speculations.” The Monk seemed almost entertained. He let go off your arm after he finished tying the rope to the tree. By the way he had tied your hands together it would prove impossible to break free. You had little to no room to move far from the tree. He then walked over to the boy, Squirrel, to tie his ropes in a 'safe' spot as well. You watched as he collected some fallen branches to make a fire, all while he kept a watchfull eye on you and the boy. After a while you slid down against the tree, you couldn't deny that you were tired after walking for so long and the boy looked tired as well. The cursing had stopped minutes ago and you saw how Squirrel struggled to stay awake before he ended up falling asleep. You wondered if this were your last hours alive. Considering the Monk had not killed you yet, the only other thing you could think of was that he was taking you to Father Carden to be judged for trying to save a fey boy. Moments passed and now you struggled to stay awake, you saw the Monk sit down and lean against a tree not far from you. His eyes focusing on the fire in front of him. You still couldn't believe how calm he looked. As if this was something that happened daily. Still, you were glad he didn't seem to be interested in torturing you on the way to Father Carden. You hated to admit that he was almost polite, you doubted the his red brothers would be this 'polite'. He had not even scolded the boy for all the cursing aimed at him, not even once. You struggled against the tight ropes, trying to get them a little looser. The Monk must have noticed your attempts "Did you need a hand ?" He looked uninterested but you noted a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Was he seriously joking right now ?? You glared over at him and sarcastically answered "Why, yes. But unfortunately some madman tied them up !" He ignored you again and after a while you felt like pestering him out of spite. If he was going to keep you captive, you would make this situation as unpleasant for him as it was for you “How's the shoulder ?” He had closed his eyes but opened them slightly when he heard the mocking question “How are the wrists ?” he shot back. You rolled your eyes, they felt sore and were a little swollen "Perfectly fine." "Excellent, then I won't have to loosen the ropes a little for you. I had assumed they were swollen." He deadpanned. Gods, you hated the smug bastard. "Smug bastard." You said through your teeth. He leaned his head back against the tree, letting out a disgruntled noise and then suddenly got up. You were instantly alarmed as he walked towards you. Shit, did you push it too far ? His hand reached out near your face and out of habit you flinched and closed your eyes. Living with  Draegan all these years had caused that reflex. However the impact of pain never came. You opened your eyes again and saw he had halted his movement at your reaction. Then he gingerly reached for the rope and loosened it just a little so it no longer cut into your skin. You looked at him bewildered. He looked over at the boy who still slept before moving away from you and sitting down against the tree again. He rested his head against it, closing his eyes to rest. You looked at your wrists and then back to him. That was.. strange ? You had insulted him and he did something...nice ? You studied the Monk curiously. Not only did he not look like the Red Paladins, he also did not act like one of them.

After staring at him for a bit you spoke "Is this what you do then ? Drag people behind your horse through the forest. Are you that desperate for some human interaction ?" The Monk sighed deeply at your rambling "I've heard it is what your brother does. But there is less talking when he does it." With less talking he meant there was screaming or worse. You casted your eyes down, another reminder of how cruel your brother truly was. You didn't comment on it anymore, instead you turned to lay against the tree. The last thing you wanted to think about was your brother. If Father Carden didn't have you killed for interferring, you doubted your brother would do the same. You felt your eyes get heavy and felt the alluring sensation of sleep carry you away.

The Monk had noticed your sudden silence at the mention of the Huntsman's actions. After some time had passed he had looked over at you from the corner of his eye and saw that you had fallen asleep. Not suprising after the long walk, and it had also been what he had hoped for. You and the boy were the perfect bait. Yet, there was something plaguing him. It was the moment he had pulled you towards him while he was sitting on Goliath. It had taken him a moment to realise what you had suggested. At first he wasn't sure if he was drawing the correct conclusion but one look at you, looking down at the ground, confirmed it. He knew you helped the fey, but to sacrifice yourself like this for the life of one fey boy was something that left him aghast. There were few lines he would not cross and taking advantage of a woman who was his captive and bound by ropes was one of them. Not just because of his faith but the idea itself made him sick to the stomach. He'd heard about Paladins abusing their authority to take advantage of others, and he made sure none of them would even attempt it if he was around. The thought that you suspected him to be capable of such behaviour, that you feared it could be his intention, made him feel terrible. You had never looked afraid before, not at your village, not even when he had held his sword against you. No. But when he had looked down at you from his horse, he knew you were afraid. The rest of the ride it kept gnawing at him, and he wondered what he was going to do with you after he had succeeded in his plan in lurring the fey. Which had been his plan all along, you and the boy were just bait that is why you were useful to him. A defenceless woman and child would work like a magnet on the fey hiding in this forest. He was positive that you were giving information to the fey to warn them. He had no hard evidence, and to just accuse the sister of the Huntsman would be foolish. But he would have to decide wether or not to kill you soon, a decission he was struggling with.

He watched as you slept, uncertain if it was out of fear you would break free and kill him if he slept as well, or of it was because you looked far less intimidating while you slept. The angry frown was gone, no clenched jaw. Just sleeping almost peacefully under the less then ideal circumstances. You moved a little while you slept and then he noticed something. It would be hard to spot for most in the dark, but he had spend many nights like this and his eyes had adjusted well to it. Your sleeve had moved up somewhat, revealing a rather large bruise. You could have gotten it from walking through the forest and having branches make contact with your skin. But the shape of it revealed a whole different story. There were small bruises close to it. Someone had grabbed you and caused the bruises. He thought back to the moment he had disarmed you in the forest, he had no recollection of ever grabbing that arm. Let alone having been rough enough to cause a bruise that bad. He frowned as he studied it, how had you obtained it ? You did not seem like the kind of person to end up in fights. As if hearing his thoughts, you turned over in your sleep. Now facing away from him. He let his head rest against the tree again, not long after he fell a into a shallow slumber. He had not rested for long before he was completely alert again. The Monk had caught their scent long before they had approached him. He had pretended to be asleep up until they had poked him with the strangely shaped weapon. "Get up, you murdering pig !"

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[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk X Reader : The City Of Fey Chapter 10

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Notes: ^ my gif. Let me know what you think :). *silent screaming over this chapter*

Summary:  As a fey queen you are by now used to it that fey come into your woods seeking refugee or a place to hide. Things get complicated however when your knights have not just brought a fey boy but also the Red Paladins’ fiercest warrior into your city.  

Chapter Summary:  You return alone, bruised and bloodied. Lancelot can barely contain his anger and tells you he wants to leave to lure the Trinity Guards away before they find the city. 

Chapters:   10/ ?

Word Count: 3092 words (in this chapter)

Warnings: Feels, of many kinds. None other in this chapter I think. 

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You were draped over the horse when you finally reached the city.

Raphael was the first to your side.

"Gods !" He exclaimed as he saw your blood stained clothes. Lancelot approached, Percival quickly following in his footsteps. Raphael helped you down and you held onto the horse and him "Where are the others ?" He asked quietly. You just shook your head, eyes filled with sorrow. Seeing you arrive alone, bruised and bloodied confirmed what Lancelot had feared. "What happened ?!" He was in front of you in just a few quick paces. Grabbing onto your upper arms to keep you from falling over as Percival was guided back inside the city by Raphael. Your abdomen hurt and you bend forward a bit because of it "We were ambushed by the Trinity guards. The others were killed. I barely escaped." It was what he had feared most, they were tracking him, tracking the path he had taken with Percival on his horse. If they had tracked him into the forest, they would find your tracks as well. Another sharp pain went through your body and you almost doubled over. Worry now flooded him and he moved to put your arm around his neck.

For a second you thought he was just going to help you walk to the infirmary but instead he put an arm behind your knees and swiftly lifted you from the ground. He proceeded to carry you into the city. Your other hand grabbed onto his shoulder in suprise. Momentarily forgetting the pain as he looked at you every few paces while walking towards the infirmary. You weren't used to being carried so you just hoped he wouldn't drop you by accident. He must have noticed because he commented "I won't let you fall." "You'd better not." It was supposed to sound a little threatening but it came out more as a plea. He held you a little tighter to him and smirked. You relaxed a little and moved your hands so they clasped together behind his neck instead of probably bruising his shoulder with your grip.

The guards of the castle opened the doors when they saw him approach with you in his arms.

The loud commotion made Dahlia enter the hallway and when she saw what was going on she covered her mouth in shock.

“Gods ! Come, hurry ! Bring her inside !” She held the door open as Lancelot carried you into the infirmary room. He gently set you down on one of the cots before he stepped aside to let Dahlia do her work.

He looked in horror at the amount of blood you had lost, taking note of the bruise forming on your jaw.

Dahlia moved your clothing aside on your shoulder, enough to see the wound.

Lancelot swallowed when he realised you had been hit by an arrow. Guilt flooded him now, he knew the trinity guards had come for him and it had almost cost you your life.

"I will clean the wound ! Are you wounded anywhere else ?" She spoke hastily as she gathered her materials.

“Just took a hit to my stomach. And..” You gestured at your face.

He clenched his fists in anger. Resisting the urge to go to the forest and end the miserable lives of those responsible for this.

“I will call for my assistant, he will come and help the others who were with you. If this is how you look then I imagine Sir Crillan looks even worse with his recklessness.” She said, unaware of what had happened.

Your eyes fell to the floor as they started to sting, you didn't want to cry. You had to be strong, your people needed you. You couldn't break, not now.

Lancelot saw the pain in your eyes at the mention of Crillan's name.

He cleared his throat and Dahlia looked at him, he shook his head silently.

Sorrow was now in Dahlia's eyes. She sniffed, and swallowed. She continued to work on your wound as she shed her tears silently.

A knock was heard before Raphael entered the infirmary. You looked at him guilt ridden over the death of his fellow knight and friend. He walked over to you and knelt before you. "What happened in the woods, y/n ?" You swallowed the pain as you explained what happened. "We were following one set of tracks. We realised too late that it was an ambush. They lured us to an open spot and then attacked us." The knight's eyes never left you "Did they suffer ?" He deserved the truth but you couldn't get it over your lips. You settled for "Not long. Crillan was hit by an arrow... I couldn't save him.. they were targetting me. There was no time." In that moment you felt worthless, powerless. Knowing that there was a chance, however small, that he could have survived if you would have had the chance to use your magic. The knight was silent for a moment as he stayed composed "How did the trinity guard find this forest ?" Guilt washed through Lancelot at the question. He knew the trinity guard had tracked him into the forest. You avoided the question, knowing Raphael blaming Lancelot now was not going to help the situation. You needed to work together to protect the city. "Raphael, send the children to the tunnels along with all those who cannot fight." You commanded. Tension filled the air when you had spoken, all knew it meant that you were expecting the trinity guard to find the city. The knight gave a nod, understanding the gravity of the situation. He stood and left the room.

A moment later Lancelot spoke, clearly having picked up how you left some parts out "How did you survive when they were targetting you ? They are known for their skill in battle." You knew he had figured out that you hadn't told Raphael the full truth. You turned to Dahlia who had just finished covering the wound "Dahlia, will you give us a moment ? Please ?" She understood the situation and excused herself from the room. The door closed and Lancelot stepped closer to you, his eyes unreadable to you.

He reached out his hand, lifting your chin up with his fingers as he looked at the bruise on your jaw. His thumb brushing away the streak of blood on your chin, and it made your heart skip a nervous beat.

“What happened ?” His voice was tense, barely restraining the anger he felt within. "They wanted information." The last thing you wanted was that Lancelot would blame himself for this. "They've come for me." It was not a guess, but a statement “They don't know of this city. I can lure them away from here." He stepped away from you, not able to face you.

It sounded as if he had already made up his mind. And that was exactly the case, they were searching for him and would soon find this city. They would burn it to the ground. Enough had died because of him, he was not going to let it happen. "I will not sacrifice your life to the trinity guards ! You're one of us, this is where you belong ! We will fight for you the same as we would fight for any other fey." "You would be sacrificing this city in my stead !" He turned to you, his voice a mixture of anger and despair. Your stubborn demeanor didn't falter "This is my city, my people. I will protect them until my last breath and that includes you too now." He shook his head and paced around the room "I've seen your people train, they won't stand a chance against them. They'll be slaughtered." "There's more of us. We'll battle strength with numbers." You countered, trying to make him see sense.

“You almost died because of me ! I don't deserve your kindness ! I don't deserve.. ” His voice barely containing his frustration before he stopped.

Your eyes widened when he had not finished his sentence “Deserve what ?”

“Any of this.” He gestured around himself so you would know he meant being here, in your city. It was a half-truth however, he did not just mean the city.

But you.

He didn't deserve you. Your grace, your kindness..you.

“Lancelot..” You shook your head, sensing so much guilt radiating off of him.

"I lost one of my only knights." Your voice thick. He could see that you felt guilty for their deaths "You couldn't have saved them. The trinity guards are some of the best fighters out there and in group they are lethal." You shook your head and wiped away a tear that threatened to fall "I failed him, I failed to protect my people ! And now you expect me to just sacrifice you to them as well ?!" In all his years serving Father Carden, Lancelot had never seen him show real empathy when a paladin was killed. Seeing you here now, a queen, weeping for your fallen soldiers and knight was something he never expected to see. A brave queen that cared so much that it made her shed tears. How often did you have to hide how you truly felt ? Some would consider it a weakness, but not him. It made him respect you even more.

You were lost for words, it felt like everything was falling apart “You were right. You are not my knight or a soldier.. I can't command you and I doubt we would be able to stop you..”

You couldn't believe he was actually leaving.

His eyes softened when he heard your voice break. You went to step past him, wanting to leave the room before the tears you were holding back would spill. He blocked your path, not wanting you to leave in this state. "Get out of the way." Your voice was weak but anger was boiling inside of you.

Anger not aimed at him but at your failure.

He didn't move a damn inch and you tried to push him out of the way. It didn't work at all, both of you knew that you'd never actually hurt the other. You pushed harder and he evaded your hands easily. He finally grabbed hold of your wrists, stopping your attempts. The mixture of anger, grief and pain was too much. You broke down sobbing against his chest.

Wanting nothing else but a bit of comfort as you wrapped your arms around him. He froze but recovered quickly, his arms wrapping around your form as if it was instinctive. He hated to see you like this, he knew what it was like to suffer in silence and to pretend like nothing was wrong. He did what he wished someone would have done for him. Give comfort when it feels like there is nothing left to fight for. Comforting you, holding you felt like it was healing a part of him as well. The physical contact almost overloading his senses. The warmth of you against him, the sound of your breath steadying. The scent of you enveloping him. “Please, don't leave..” It was a whisper falling from your lips. He placed his hand on the back of your hair, a protective gesture. And you found yourself calming down, he held you in such a way that it was hard not to feel safe. You had thought this would get uncomfortable but the opposite was true, this didn't feel strange or uncomfortable. It felt safe and warm and it must have been similar for him considering he showed no intention to let go or push you away.

“Please..stay..”

Your words echoed in his mind, the desire to stay here was tearing him apart. Holding you in his arms just made it so much harder to go.

Gods, he wanted to stay. With you and Percival..

Your plea cut him deeper then any sword had ever done.

He burried his nose in your hair and you raised your hands up to cup his face keeping your eyes closed, just cherishing this moment. Knowing that it could be the last time you saw him, you remembered what Crillan had told you. He then let his forehead rest against yours. Your mere presence soothing all his doubts. You tilted your head ever so slightly and your nose brushed against his. His warm breath ghosting over your skin. So many emotions were coursing through him. Your scent overloading his senses, until it felt as if there was nothing else but you. Your voice was but a whisper and he wasn't sure if he had heard it right. He opened his eyes and they locked on yours. You saw the uncertainty in his eyes and you repeated your words silently to him. "I love you." For a moment you feared you had made a fool of yourself for confessing it. He found himself unable to form words, he again placed his forehead to yours as he let out a shuddering breath. Your words bringing hope to something he was taught he could never recieve from another being. Love. You didn't know what to think, why was he not saying anything ? You just confessed to him that you loved him.. "Lancelot ?" You softly said, daring to look him in the eye. Maybe he really didn't feel the same and he was trying to think of a way to tell you without hurting your feelings. But then, that look. The look in his eyes betrayed him, his eyes captivating you once again. A look of longing was shared between you, and you realise he wasn't going to move unless you did. So you swallowed back your fears and acted boldly. Drawing his face to yours softly, making sure that he could move away if he wanted to. Your lips touched his and lingered briefly before you pulled back to watch his reaction.

He felt frozen to the spot. This was something unfamiliar to him. But one thing he knew. It felt right. And gods could he get addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. Instead of speaking he closed the last space between you and his lips brushed against yours. Uncertain at first, but he grew bold and pulled you closer to him. His hand tangled in your hair, your kiss making him feel like there was liquid fire running through his veins.

How addictively you were invading all his senses, it awokened a hunger inside of him that he never knew was there.

You were the one who broke the kiss when you ran out of air, never expecting him to kiss you like that. I seems he was not just passionate in fighting.

He was out of breath as well, his gaze on you making your knees weak. Your heart was racing like a horse in gallop.

Your hands cupped his face as your thumbs traced over the marks below his eyes.

He couldn't stop looking at you as you traced his marks. His whole life he was taught it was impossible, that he was a monster who needed to be saved from the fire.

Yet you had accepted him for what he was, for who he was.

You loved him.

A loud knock startled the both of you and you stepped back just in time before the door was opened by Raphael.

Raphael looked between you and Lancelot momentarily. You sneaked a glance at Lancelot who did the same. Raphael must have picked up on the tension in the room but he ignored it, the matter that brought him here was more important. "Y/n. Our archers have spotted groups of trinity guards. They are nearing the city." Now Lancelot knew that even if he had gone to lure them away, they were already too close to do so. You had expected that fighting would become unavoidable. "How many ?" Lancelot asked the knight. "Four groups of them." Raphael spoke hastily. You turned to Lancelot "How many of us do you believe to be advanced enough to fight ? You've seen the people train.." He thought about it before he answered with a heavy voice "Not enough. The trinity guards do not fight fair. They'll burn the city to the ground if we can't stop them." Dahlia had entered the room again as well "Your highness.." All of you turned to her and waited for her to say what she had to say. She walked up to you before placing a hand on your cheek. Her eyes still held the sorrow from before but she still smiled at you. "You could not save Crillan.. but there is still time now." She said knowingly. Lancelot send you an inquiring look before noticing that Raphael knew what Dahlia was talking about. "My magic is not strong enough.." You told her. She shook her head, clearly disagreeing with you "How could you know ? You did not have to use your full power in years. I believe in you, y/n." You looked her in the eye when she finally just called you by your name. You gave her a silent nod. Lancelot watched the exchance between you and spoke up "How will your healing magic help us ?" "She doesn't just possess healing magic." Raphael smirked at him before turning to you. You looked at Lancelot sheepishly "I haven't used that kind of magic in years..and it's not very strong." "What kind of magic ?" He quickly asked you. You brushed it off as if it was nothing special "I.. can control the wind. But it is very weak.. I never really used it. It's not a very usefull ability to make a place windy.." A plan was forming in Lancelot's head with the information. "I have an idea." He looked at Raphael "Those who cannot fight are in the tunnels below the castle ?" Raphael nodded "Yes." You could see the wheels in his head turning. "And those who can ?" He asked the knight. "Barricading the homes, why ?" The knight looked at him confused. "Tell them to stay away from the houses, they'll be burned to the ground. Arm those who can fight and tell them to find cover in the streets. Tell them to wait for a signal." You looked at Lancelot with a confused expression "What signal ?" His attention was on you, a confident smirk on his lips "They'll know."

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[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk X Reader : The City Of Fey Chapter 4

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Notes: ^ my gif. Decided to drop this chapter as well today.

Summary:   As a fey queen you are by now used to it that fey come into your woods seeking refugee or a place to hide. Things get complicated however when your knights have not just brought a fey boy but also the red paladins’ fiercest warrior into your city.  

Chapter Summary:   After returning from the forest with you, the Weeping Monk must face another battle, this time against a specific fey boy. He learns that being around Percival can be both harrowing and rewarding

Chapters:   4/ ?

Word count:  1473 (in this chapter)

Warnings: None in this one I think.

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He had half expected that you would tie his hands again but you didn't. But he had left the sword behind in the forest, carrying no weapons with him as you escorted the fey group to the city. It seemed to ease their minds somewhat.

When he arrived at the city the fey group was welcomed by Raphael who firstly checked in with you about what happened.

As you were explaining the situation to Raphael, the Weeping Monk looks up to see Percival running towards him. "Where were you ?!" The boy demanded as if he had personally insulted the boy. He quirked a brow at the boy, he didn't expect the boy to care about his whereabouts as the boy was safe in the city. "He just helped me rescue some people from red paladins." you walked up to them. The boy looked suprised at you before sending a glare to the Weeping Monk. "Why couldn't I come ?" He sounded offended. The Weeping Monk's eyes quickly darted between you and then to the boy, impressed at the range of how the boy could test his patience. "There are safer ways to use all that energy." He stated. The boy shrugged his shoulders "Like what ?" He gestured to the wooden sword still in the boy's hand "Like learning how to use that sword and not just evade attacks." "Perhaps you should teach him then ?" You piped up. It came out of nowhere, and his eyes snapped to you. Were you serious ? "That would mean I'd have to handle a sword." He reminded you of the fact that he had to give up his weapons upon arriving here. You reached and pulled out the sword from behind your back, holding it out to him. "I know." He hesitated to take the sword from you and Percival was shooting looks between you and the Weeping Monk. You sighed frustrated "Would you prefer Sir. Crillan to continue teaching him ?" 'No' was his immediate inner thought and he caved in and took the sword from you. Pleased at the small victory you said "Good. That's settled then. I'll tell Raphael to return your weapons." He looked at you suprised, was this your way of letting him known that you trusted him ? "Thank you, your highness." He tilted his head down, a sign of respect towards you. "Just call me y/n. I guess you've earned it after you stopped that paladin from cutting my throat.” you smiled down at the boy “That goes for you too.”

“As you wish..” the weeping monk bows his head for a second.

You looked at him in expectation.

“..y/n.” he finished his sentence earning a satisfied look for you.

“Thank the gods. Now I only have Dahlia left to convince.” you muttered to yourself.

Suddenly he noticed how the boy looked at him expectantly. As if he wanted to make something clear to him without speaking. The boy's eyes darted to him and then he tilted his head in your direction. Then it dawned on him what the boy was trying to communicate to him. The Weeping Monk had never even given you his real name. It was perhaps useful knowledge to you so he turned to you and caught your attention. "I... uhm" he pauzed "My name.. it's -" "Lancelot." You finished his sentence for him and watched as he looked utterly confused. Did he misunderstand what the boy was trying to communicate ? Had Percival told you this already? "I know. I was just waiting until you wanted to share that with me." A grin played on your face. Seeing him look at you completely confused before looking at the boy was quite funny. "I didn't tell her !" Percival piped up. At that moment Crillan appeared and whispered something to you before heading back inside the small castle. You turned to the both of them "I believe you two must be starving. Please, join us for dinner." Percival nodded eagerly. You directed it at Lancelot now "Afterwards you should go see Dahlia. I doubt she will be pleased that the cut on your head is bleeding again." He noted how this was amusing to you, but after meeting Dahlia he understood why. She'll probably scold him for it. "I will. Thank you." He replied and you beckoned for them to follow you inside the castle. The dinning hall was small, yet still large enough that there was room for everyone.

Some civillians, cooks, guards and soldiers all chatting together. When he inquired about it you told him that the same food was prepared for everyone in the city. All were treated the same. A pleasant suprise as he had seen King Uther feast upon the most exotic foods while some people in his kingdom were almost starving. You sat across from him, now telling Crillan about what had happened in the forest. And at some point the conversation had switched to the subject of training more civilians. Lancelot had already eaten a few bites when he noticed Percival's odd behaviour.

Percival was checking the food as if there could be bugs in it. It looked like he had never seen this type of food before.

Crillan pointed it out to you discreetly, finding the display comical. You muffled a laugh by putting your hand in front of your mouth, but still let out a giggle at the sight. Lancelot on the other hand felt somewhat embarrased to see the boy doing this.

He nudged his elbow with his own before whispering "Just taste it." The boy rolled his eyes, clearly not liking the intrusion in his investigation. You had to look away now before your risked bursting out into laughter.

Crillan drank from his tankard to hide his own laugh. The boy huffed before taking the tiniest piece of food on the plate and putting it in his mouth. Lancelot didn't know if he should be relieved or hold his breath for the boy's reaction to the food. You eyed them curiously and saw how the boy's eyes went wide before he started to wolf down the food. It took you off-guard and you let out a laugh before covering your mouth.

The others looked at you strangely, wondering what was so funny. You avoided their stares and their attention returned to their food. You looked up through your lashes and saw Lancelot looking at you.

The two of you shared a look and you nodded in the direction of the boy before you smiled. He was relieved to see that you weren't insulted at Percival's food suspicion.

The boy sure kept him on his toes at all times.

Dinner was uneventful after that. And he was grateful for it.

He made his way to the infirmary afterwards, making sure the boy went with him as they passed their rooms anyway.

He opened the door to Percival's room for him “This one's yours. Mine's right next to this one.”

The boy stepped inside the room and looked around in awe.

A smile tugged at the corner of Lancelot's mouth as he watched the boy.

Percival turned to him “Mine ?”

He tilted his head in confirmation at the boy.

A wide smile spread on the boy's face before he leaped and plopped down on the bed.

Lancelot leaned against the doorframe as he watched Percival feel the covers on the bed.

Then it was as if the boy remembered something important and he jumped from the bed and took a few paces towards him.

“Will you teach me how to fight tomorrow ? How you fight ?” the boy asked excited at the idea.

Lancelot gave a short nod “Tomorrow. At dawn.”

He didn't know if it was because he had agreed to teach the boy, the room or the full stomach.

Or a combination of it all.

But the boy ran up to him and flung his arms around him.

The unexpected embrace took him completely off-guard and he tensed up.

“Thank you.” the boy whispered against him.

He clenched and unclenched his hand, stretching his fingers nervously before putting a hand on the back of the boy's head.

He didn't know how to react to it. The only time someone had touched him was to either punish him or wield him as a weapon.

The boy's hug thightened for a second before he let go off him.

Percival looked up at him, not knowing what to expect.

After a brief silence, Lancelot found his voice again but couldn't avoid the words coming out shaky at first “Rest. I will come for you at dawn.”

The boy nodded and Lancelot left the room,

The moment he had shut the door he let out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding.

He took a moment to compose himself before he walked towards the infirmary.

TAGLIST

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[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk X Reader : The City Of Fey Chapter 6

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Notes: ^ my gif. It is here, the chapter were the rollercoaster of tension starts. 

Summary:  As a fey queen you are by now used to it that fey come into your woods seeking refugee or a place to hide. Things get complicated however when your knights have not just brought a fey boy but also the Red Paladins’ fiercest warrior into your city.  

Chapter Summary:  At dawn Lancelot takes Percival to the field to train. It appears they are not the only early birds at the field. What started as something innocent soon leaves him with mixed feelings.

Chapters:   6/ ?

Word Count: 2899 (in this chapter)

Warnings: Feels.  Otherwise none, I think ?

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You had went to inform Raphael about your decission concerning Lancelot. It wasn't an easy conversation but he trusted your judgement in the matter. To your suprise you ran into Percival when you were on your way to your chamber, it was already late and you weren't expecting to see the boy still awake. And when you saw the expression on his face, it was obvious that the boy wasn't expecting to run into someone as well. Even though you were quite certain the boy was just sneaking around the castle you didn't show it. You walked up to the boy "Up so late ? Are you not exhausted after this long day ?" His eyes darted at his surroundings and you knew that what would come next would probably be a lie. "I got lost." His eyes betrayed him. You let out a soft chuckle "Lost, huh? I get it." He knew you had seen trough the lie but relaxed when he saw you weren't mad at him. "You can ask the guards for directions if it happens again, they don't bite." You winked and smiled at him "But then you can't sneak past them.." Something told you that he just doesn't like to ask for help. Why did that sound familiar? Oh yeah. "Sorry.." His apology made you look at him and you shook your head a smile still tugging at your lips. You put a hand on his shoulder as you turned with him to walk towards his room "Don't worry. I understand that it must be irresistible not to explore a new place. I used to do the same." The boy walked next to you. "I couldn't sleep." You figured that was the reason. When you had first met the boy you had sensed many things. One of them was the fear he repressed. No one is brave all the time, and what is supressed during the day often comes to haunt one during the night. You walk past Lancelot's room to Percival's room and opened the door for him. "Thank you." He said and you followed him inside. He flopped down on the bed, folding his hands on his chest. Focusing on his fingers. You walked up to him and sat down on the edge of the bed "Sleeping in a new place is always a bit strange isn't it ?" He nodded his head. You grabbed the blanket and tucked him in before taking one of his hands in yours. "You're safe here." You wanted to ease his mind. Percival didn't look like he believed it much and you didn't blame the boy for being traumatised after everything that had happened to him. "Lancelot is in the room next to yours. He's very protective of you, you know?" This made the boy look at you "But why ? Why me?" You thought about that one for a long minute "Because you.." you tipped a finger on his nose "..never stop fighting for the good. He admires that bravery, but I believe it also worries him."

"Why would he be worried when I'm doing a good thing?" He sounded a bit defensive. You sighed "Because that bravery comes with risks. When you helped him with the Trinity guards.. they could have killed you. Lancelot has not forgotten how you were willing to fight for him, you're important to him." Percival thought about it quietly "Can't you let him stay ?" His eyes pleading. "I asked him to." You confessed. The boy looked expectantly "And ? What did he say?" You quirked a brow "I was able to convince him." The boy now smiled and sat up excited "He's teaching me how to fight like him tomorrow !" "That's lovely ! Just.. be carefull. I've seen him fight as well." You warned. The boy piped up "I'm not afraid of him!" Of course he wasn't, he didn't seem to fear many things and it worried you. "I'm not either. I believe he truly wants to help us." Percival nodded "I think so too." You sighed softly "If you want to be rested at dawn you should get some sleep." At that his smile fell, it broke your heart seeing him like this. You knew but all to well what it was like when bad memories kept you awake. Then you thought of something, how your parents would often sing you to sleep. They didn't have the best singing voices but it was the sound of their voice that was enough for you to fall asleep. It made you feel safe. "Close your eyes." You patted your hand on the pillow and he turned to lay on his side. Then he reluctantly closed his eyes. After a moment you started to softly sing the old fey song your parents used to sing to you. He opened his eyes to look up at you before closing them again. You continued and soon he drifted off into sleep.

Lancelot had heard you and Percival walk past his room. He had believed that the boy had been asleep by now, looks like the boy was stealthier then he had expected. He heard you enter the room next to his. He didn't mean to eavesdrop and just tried to get some sleep. Something he often found hard to accomplish, especially now. But after a few minutes the soft sound of singing reached his ears. And he found himself listening to the sound. The sound of your voice, singing softly to the boy. A song he'd sworn he had heard before, a long time ago. It was what made him finally drift off into a peaceful sleep.

At dawn Lancelot went to retrieve the boy as he had promised him. As excited as the boy had been at the idea of being trained at dawn, it seemed that it was not enough to cause him to jump out of bed and ready to go. The boy had cursed under his breath and pulled the covers over his head when Lancelot entered the room. “It's time.” he announced and watched as the boy muttered something under his breath. He waited until he saw that the boy had no intent to wake up. Then he grabbed the covers and pulled them away in one swift movement. The boy sat up instantly, ready to protest. “Percival.” Lancelot's voice was stern. “Fine !” Percival exclaims angrily before he finally swung his feet out of his bed and got ready.

After a few minutes they made their way to the training area. When they went to turn the corner in the long hallway, he spotted the knight, Raphael. Raphael beckoned to him. He acknowledged the knight but turned to the boy first “Go, I'll meet you at the field.” The boy went ahead and Lancelot approached the knight. “I believe you will need this.” Raphael held out a long wooden sword “Unless you believe the boy should train with steel ?” “Wood will do for now.” Lancelot remembered his own training but all to well. He took the sword from Raphael and thanked him. “Y/n has informed me you will stay with us.” the knights sounded somewhat bitter. He gave a short nod “She was adamant in her request for me to stay.” “She always is.” the knight breathed out “I owe you an apology..” “You don't.” the reply came quick. He didn't need Raphael to apologize for looking out for you. Raphael had threatened him before he had went to find the fey in the forest with you, and he understood why “You wanted to protect her. There is no need for an apology.” The knight tilted his head gratefully "News is spreading quickly about how you helped save the fey in the forest. How you protected her from the Red Paladins.." It sounded almost as if the knight had a helping hand in that and Lancelot expected that this was indeed the case. “Thank you.” the knight said before leaving.

He approached the field and saw Percival sitting on the grass just next to it. He looked at what had caught the boy's attention and saw you. You were practicing by using a sack of straw tied to a stick as the 'enemy'. Unbeknownst to you, Lancelot was watching you train. He noted that you were quick on your feet but your way of training against an invisible enemy would prove a disadvantage in a real fight. "In my experience they usually don't just stand there as you contemplate where to strike them." He spoke up. You looked and saw him standing there, having picked up on the sarcastic tone in his voice. You quirked a brow "I used to spar with my knights, but I always have to hold myself back. I don't consider it helpfull either but the last thing I want is to accidentally wound one of them...again.." you thought back to a particular moment where you had accidentally struck Crillan while he was teaching you something. He walked up to the enemy made from straw, smirking at the thing. You crossed your arms "What ? You got a better idea ? Should I go and ask a red paladin if he wants to practice with me ?" "A Trinity guard is more skilled." His voice deadpan as he pulled out the dagger you had thrown in the sack. "Spoken from experience, huh." You quipped. He let out a soft scoff as he walked to you while studying the dagger before handing it back to you. "At least I can say that I actually killed some of them and lived to tell the tale." He looks back over his shoulder at the straw enemy "Put a golden mask on there and they might resemble them." He turns his attention back to you "I can spar with you if you fear you knights can't keep up with you." You raised a brow at him in suprise at his offer "Who says you can ? " He narrowed his eyes and takes a few steps back before dropping the wooden sword he was about to use and pulling his steel sword out. "You're serious ?" You got nervous now. He tilted his head and smirked "Don't hold back." You took a deep breath and gave a nod. Your grip on your sword thightened as you charged at him. He dodged your attack with ease. Even making you almost trip as well. You turned around to look at him and the look on his face made it very clear to you that he was enjoying this. He was definitely competitive. This pissed you off a bit and you went to strike again, he used his sword to block yours and pushed it away. Nearly making it fly it out of your hand. "Stop holding back. They won't hold back either." he sounded bored. "I have no intention to kill you !" You bit back. He remained composed "You won't." You sighed but charged at him again, in an attempt to disarm him your swords clashed and for a second you thought you were winning. Until he moved and disarmed you in one swift move, you ended up with your back against his chest and his sword under your chin. "Stop. Holding. Back. They will not play fair." His voice was hoarse and his breath brushed against your ear. That's when you finally did what he asked, in your defence he did say he could keep up. You used your elbow to jab him in the ribs. His grip on you faltered making you break free and grab your sword off the ground. He recovered quickly, and you went to strike his left, which he blocked again but what he didn't expect was you pulling the dagger out with your other hand. You had used the sword as a distraction, leaving him unable to block the dagger that was now pointing against his throat. His breath left him when he realised that you could have killed him then and there. He never even saw you reach for the dagger. He remained still as a statue as you held the dagger in place before a smirk played on your lips. It dawned on him that this was the closest you had ever stood face to face when he could see the sunlight reflect in your eyes. It captivated him for a moment and he didn't find the will to try and disarm you. His eyes now fully studying your features, from the color of your eyes to shape of your lips that were now curved into a daring smirk. He felt nervous, but it wasn't because of the dagger at his throat. No, it was you looking at him in a similar way that made him nervous along with a feeling he couldn't quite place.

The fact that you just bested the man who previously had been the red paladins' fiercest warrior was exhilarating to say the least. Even if it was just sparring, you found it thrilling how sparring with him was nothing like sparring with one of your knights. Not even Raphael, your second in command would dare to spar like this. You always had to hold back. But not with him. Not with Lancelot. The close proximity gave you a chance to study this man. You knew he wasn't ugly, you weren't blind. But standing this close you were taken aback by just how handsome he truly was. It felt like his eyes were piercing through your soul. You moved your dagger away from his throat. "I wonder how many have spared your life upon seeing those eyes." The words tumbled from your lips. So fast he had to repeat them in his mind to understand what you were saying. And yet he still wasn't sure "What?" A soft laugh coming from you filled his ears. "Gods, for someone who is so quick in a fight, you are quite slow in communication." You smiled at him while you brushed past him. He brows drew together as he watched you walk away. Percival came to his side and looked up at him "I think she likes you." The shock in his eyes was hard to hide when he looked at the boy, who was looking at you. No, you must have been joking and the boy was misunderstanding the whole situation. "Or she thinks you're an idiot. She did call you slow." The boy blurted out. His eyes fell on the boy again. Yup, he was going to have to talk about his use of language soon. Even if it often amused him. He lightly shoved the boy towards the practice area "Alright, let's see you if your sword is as sharp as your wit."

He had spend the day training and the boy was suprisingly fast. The boy's temper however was another thing. He had thrown his sword in frustration a couple of times during the day. He had remained calm every time and waited until the boy had picked up the sword again. Had it been a Red Paladin teaching him, the boy would surely have regretted his temper quickly. Lancelot remembered his training, how they hit him, starved him or both if he failed to learn quick enough. He hated the memory and it had only fueled his own temper at the time. So he waited patiently for the boy to calm himself down every time. He had to learn to control himself, and now was the right time to do so. While he was still young. While his skill was still developing.

When night fell Crillan, who had been teaching the others, came to him. Percival was busy showing the others on the field what he had learned. “He's a feisty one. Almost thought he would land a hit on you here and there.” the knight joked. In truth, Lancelot had thought that as well during the day. “He is learning quickly.” “Do you plan to teach him how to use a bow ?” he inquires. “He claims he can kill three paladins at once with one.” he quirked a brow at the knight. The knight let out a chuckle “Does he now ? Don't tell the queen. I tried teaching her archery and she elbowed me in the face. The dagger is more her thing. As you have experienced." The knight quirked a brow at Lancelot. There was a pauze before he spoke again. “I saw you spar with the queen. You could have disarmed her when she held the dagger at your throat. Why didn't you ?” the question seemed innocent but both knew it meant more. Lancelot couldn't answer the question with a sensable answer because he had none. He still couldn't explain why you being so close to him had made him unwilling to disarm you. The knight didn't look at him but smiled knowingly at his silence. At that moment you walked on the training field, a group of children quickly crowded around you. You gave attention to every single one of them. He had almost forgotten all about the knight next to him as his eyes were glued on you. Feeling how that nervous feeling rose inside of him again. The knight went to walk back to the children leaving him with his thoughts.

Taglist:

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