#mideval texts look pretty

[watchthecandleflicker]

Recent roaming

[paige-from-my-book]

For whatever reason, I'm having issues posting the next chapter of Rescued (have tried it 3 different times and it does take time and tedious effort to adjust the format to fit on here, so I'm done trying for today). So! trying something else here. Here's the introduction chapter for Blade of a Traitor, which will probably be my next story to fully post on here, since it's almost done! Being from Mideval times, violence will be a pretty conisitent trigger warning for this story. This story also contains frequent flashbacks, so the text that's in a different font is what those are. And for better context: the knight Elane's physical appearance is based off of Cara Dune from the Mandalorian. This story started off just supposing to be smut, but I had too much fun writing the back stories, so it'll clock in between 70-80 pages.

"Our swords clanged together. This knight was better than the rest. His lean armor seemed to protect him less, but that meant he was able to move around more easily. While I was sure I was leaving cuts and injuries, he never showed it. His short sword came down hard on my helmet, leaving my ears ringing and causing spots to form in my vision. I could barely avoid his next jab, swiping his sword with mine to aid my dodge. 

That movement distracted me from his elbow, though, and he gave me a swift uppercut with it, sending my helmet flying off. My head hit the ground as light blinded me. A cloud of dust rose around me as my back settled against the arena floor.  I blinked rapidly up at the clouds, trying to get the strength to stand. But I was so tired. I’d already fought five other opponents today. My muscles burned. My head spun. I tried to ignore all of the cuts and bruises on me as I clenched my sword and sat up, ready to take any swing that came my way.

But the knight just stood there, sword in both hands, staring at me. He was still ready to fight, but looked like he was waiting for me to get up. I realized that my bright hair had fallen down. Schite, I thought. Everyone was quiet. No one thought a knight without a lord could get this far, especially a woman. I hadn’t wanted that to be revealed quite yet, though. I’d had a plan to present myself in front of the lord’s daughter, not with my fiery red hair down, but pulled up to look like a man’s. Or maybe cut.

The knight in front of me let down his sword and strode up to me. I hopped up from my feet, still ready to fight. 

“Halt,” a commanding voice came down from the royal box. 

I looked up to see the lord staring, no glaring, at me. He knew which house I belonged to. I turned back to my opponent, who was also looking back and forth from me to the man whose daughter I was fighting for. When I looked back up, the lady was muttering something in the lord’s ear. He listened intently and then nodded. 

“Knight, you have proven to be exceptional. You have made it to the champion round, but we are not looking for a knight of your stature. We were looking for a man to beat our champion to win my daughter’s hand,” he said, gesturing towards the knight that was still standing in front of me.

At his gesture, the knight took off his helmet. Then I realized why the armor was smaller. Her black hair flowed out as she took it off and she brushed it aside to stare into me with her caramel eyes. I was mesmerized by them. Her cheeks hugged her wide, square face tightly and her nose pointed sharply, but was slightly crooked, as if a previous fight had injured it. There was also a scar along her eyebrow, causing it to be missing a few hairs.

“My lord, it seems your daughter is destined to marry a woman,” my opponent joked as she turned back to the royal box. Her crooked smile was charming to say the least. I couldn’t help but stare at her.

“Tell me, knight,” the lord said, getting my attention. I tore my gaze away from her to look at him. I could feel my cheeks turning red at having been caught staring. “What was your plan here? How did you intentend to wed my daughter and provide heirs?” 

The arena chuckled with the lord. His gaze seemed light-hearted, but I knew better than to possibly offend royalty. 

“I meant no disrespect, my lord,” I explained, kneeling. “I only wished to prove myself worthy of knighthood.” I didn’t tell him I wasn’t sure how long I would let the charade go on.

The lord nodded. “And that you have. Tell me, what is your name?”

My name. Sard. I stood again to answer, even though my legs screamed against it. “Morgan, sir.”

“Of what house, Sir Morgan?” he asked, even though I was sure he knew. Not just anyone had hair like mine.

The words caught in my throat. My tongue felt too big in my mouth.

“The lord has asked you a question,” the knight across from me said, gripping her sword more tightly.

My gaze shifted to the ground. “House… House Larimier.”

There was an audible gasp among the crowd. At this point, I knew in which lordship I was. Even if this lord had never fought in a battle against my king, the two kingdoms were at war, and had been for years.

“Princess Morgan?” the knight asked. She immediately dropped to one knee and placed her sword pointing down to the ground in front of her, bowing her head.

“What brings you here to fight for my daughter’s hand?” the lord asked coldly.  The words seemed joking, but his tone was not.

“The king cares not for his people, nor his family, nor his kingdom. I’ve… I’ve come to fight him.”

More gasps went up around the crowd. The shock of a girl fighting her own uncle caused the knight to look up at me again.

“It’s not what I want to do, but it is what I feel I must,” I added. I purposefully left out the part of how it hadn’t been my choice to run away, though I knew it probably would have needed to happen sooner or later. Just another reason to fight him.

“You’ve traveled a great deal and fought a good fight today. Perhaps you’d like some rest and food?” the lord suggested. His tone made me uneasy.

I eyed him warily.

As the clanging of the metal dungeon door closing sounded behind me, I knew I should have at least tried to lie.  I was too tired to take my armor off, so though it was uncomfortable, I left it on and slumped down onto the hard stone bench and stared at the wall, going over the last fight again in my head. Her moves had been so fluid and fast. How could she fight so freely and agily?

I awoke with a start. It took me a while to figure out what had woken me up. Another shake to my shoulders and a candle showed me it was my mother’s servant. She looked scared. It could only mean one thing. They’d found out.

“Wake up, your majesty! Princess Quilla demands you leave at once,” she says frantically.

I hurried out of my bed and started packing a bag.

“There’s no time!” the servant grabbed my arm to push clothes into my grip. “Your armor is in the stables by your horse. Don’t let anyone see your hair!”

I rushed to put on the tunic that she’d gotten for me. Peasant’s clothing. Once I’d put on the outer clothing, she pulled my hair up, tied it to stay, and shoved a hat over my head.

“Quickly! Go to your horse! He’s already been saddled,” the elderly woman said, pushing me towards the door.

I ran out of my bed chambers and down the hall as fast as I could, securing my belt so I could easily attach my sword in the stables. I stuck to the shadows to avoid being seen. It was a good thing the cold night air was biting at my face, keeping me awake. I’d need to ride all through the night.

“Your majesty.” After what seemed like hours, my thoughts were interrupted by a guard, leading the knight I’d fought in the champion round. She had a tray of food in her hands. Now instead of armor, she was wearing a tunic that fit her snugly. It brought out her chest and the curves of her stomach and hips the way any dress would and it took all of my self control not to stare. Her dark, straight hair was down and flowed past her shoulders, framing her neck-God her neck. The muscles outlined her throat perfectly and flowed down into her collarbone, showing off just how muscular she was.

“Leave us,” the knight commanded. Her voice was low and had a slight rasp to it. It was commanding, but gentle. The guard nodded and marched off down the cold hallway. She took out keys and opened the door, walking in and sitting on the bench next to me after giving a brief bow. 

“How did you become a knight?” I asked. In my kingdom, it was impossible for a woman to be a knight. The moment you were discovered for it, execution was the only option. The only reason I knew how to handle a sword and had armor was because I was the king’s niece and needed to be able to defend myself.

“I trained. I went up against the lord’s champion for his daughter’s hand. I won. When the lord found out, he was so impressed that he kept me on. Obviously not for his daughter, although we are good friends.” Good friends?

“Who trained you?”

The knight smiled at me and passed the tray to me. “This isn’t exactly what they eat at the royal table here, but it is better than most the prisoners get. I do apologize for giving you knight’s food, your majesty.”

“Morgan.”

My opponent searched my eyes, narrowing hers slightly. “Elane.”

“Sir Elane, what is a noble warrior like you bringing food to a prisoner?”

“I’m trying to gauge your true motives for being here.”

“I’ve already stated my motives.”

“The lord doesn’t believe you. He thinks you’re a spy.”

“And what do you think?” I asked.

“It’s not my place,” she answered simply and continued searching my face. Her scarred eyebrow rose slightly.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint. I’ve revoked my name. Or more, my uncle has. My mother caught wind of the plans my uncle had for me, so I was able to get out with just this armor and my horse. I’ve been on the run ever since.”

“What did you do to make your uncle turn against you?” Elane asked, eyebrows furrowed.

I turned away, embarrassed. It had been a moment of weakness. I was already on my uncle’s bad side, but when his son’s wife came to me, it was too tempting. He’d been laying with another woman, as all the men of the court did. She was a mess and wanted to feel loved. And she was so beautiful.

“The more you give me, the faster we can get you out of here,” Elane murmured.

I looked at her again curiously. “You’re trying to get me out?”

“I’ve seen glimpses of the court of Larimier. Your red hair gives it away, so I know you’re not lying about that. I’m just trying to figure out what else is the truth.” If she’d seen glimpses, that meant she’d had to have been in our territory. What was she doing here?

“All of it,” I said in exasperation. “I’m not a spy. I… helped his son’s wife cheat.”

“You were the lookout?” Sure that works.

“Not a very good one, obviously.”

Elane chuckled a little.  “Were you… Otherwise occupied while you were supposed to be looking out?”

I raised an eyebrow at her. Her eyes widened and she cleared her throat.

“Forgive me, your majesty. That was out of line.” Her gaze shot to the floor of the dungeon.

I realized the tray of food was in my lap, untouched. “Where did you get this food?” 

“I believe it came from the kitchen, your grace,” she answered, still avoiding my look.  The way she fidgeted made me think she was uncomfortable with the question. She had said this was knight’s food...

“Sir Elane, is this plate meant to be yours?” I asked.

Elane’s jaw clenched, outlining her perfect jawline and neck. Now that I looked closer, I could see a couple scars on her face. How she got them had me worried, as they were so close to vulnerable spots on her body. I looked down at what little bit of her arms were showing and saw that the scars were even more numerous there.

“You seem to have seen your fair share of fighting,” I said while I absentmindedly traced the scars on her arm with my fingers.

“One doesn’t become a knight by sitting in the castle all day,” she replied with a shrug, her arm falling out of reach of my fingers. “Your food is getting cold, your majesty.”

She started to get up but I grabbed her arm. “Morgan. And may I ask of you one more favor?”

She turned to look at me again. Her light brown eyes bore into my icy blue eyes.

“I’m not accustomed to eating alone. Will you join me?”

“There’s not enough for two,” she pointed out.

“My appetite is quite small from being on the road.”

She sighed and sat back down. “You’re too kind, your grace.”

“Morgan,” I repeated. I’d lost count at how many times I’d told her.

Her eyes met mine once more. “Morgan.”

I was slouching. My horse could barely put one foot in front of the other. I looked around the woods we were going through. I doubted his men could have followed me this far. I didn’t even know where I was. All I knew is that I was headed west. It had been two and a half days since I’d left the palace. I was watching my third sunset on horseback.

I heard the trickle of a small creek to our right. I’d kept us with it for the last day. I didn’t know what creek it was, but I knew water was safe. I steered my horse in the direction and let him drink as I dismounted and took his saddle off to let him cool. He drank deeply from the stream as I looked around. My provisions had been minor, to say the least. I was coming up on my last figs. I prayed there was a civilization soon. I was able to grab a sack of gold coins on the way out, so I knew I could buy provisions. But for now, I would rest. I’d let my horse rest. Just for a few hours.

Someone was crying out. I tried not to think about it. That could be me. Why wasn’t that me?

A guard was walking by, checking on all the prisoners and making sure no one was making trouble. 

“Sir?” I stopped him. He looked at me with an annoyed face, but clearly feared Elane enough to humor me. I’d noticed the guards being more polite to me than the other prisoners, and couldn’t help but think my opponent had something to do with that.  “That man that’s been screaming, what were his crimes?”

“That’s none of your business,” he replied in a snarl. But a knight in armor trailing him took a few steps forward and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. At the touch the guard flinched and his jaw clenched. “He was caught having relations with…. With a knight’s son.”

“Such relations are discouraged here?” I verified. It didn’t surprise me. In my kingdom, if anyone was caught in bed with anyone other than the opposite sex, the consequences were fatal.

“Only between an adult and a child,” the knight answered in a tenor voice. I finally looked at him. He was blonde with a beard that was a step beyond scruff. He stood tall above the guard in front of him and his cleft chin stuck out hard.

“So the issue was not that it was between two males?” I clarified.

“That’s right. The lord knows the benefits in letting his subjects be with who they want. Why start wars where none are needed?” the knight answered as the guard continued his route.

I nodded. That made sense. If only my uncle had understood that concept.

“Princess Morgan. Forgive me, I didn’t know you weren’t at the party,” my cousin’s wife said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“I often grow bored at parties. I’d rather be training or assisting in governing,” I replied as I joined her at the window overlooking our courtyard. Her reddened cheeks gave away her sorrow, even if she tried, but failed to smile at me. I felt so bad for her.

Princess Ada forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Perhaps you’re in the wrong court. It seems women can’t assist much in governing here.”

I smiled back. “Perhaps. I noticed your husband’s absence at the party, I thought he’d be with you.”

“It’s possible you didn’t also notice my servant is also missing from the party.”

“It is possible,” I said, not letting her know that I had. I’d hoped it’d only been a coincidence for her sake.

“But not probable,” she said, reading my face.

I shook my head. Her brown hair was in a braid and cascaded down around her shoulder, stopping just below where her dress exposed the crown of her breasts. I tried not to look, but I know she’d seen me catching glances from time to time. I’d caught her looking at me and sometimes even smiling shyly after she’d seen me looking.

“I just wanted to check on you. Well, I should get back to the party,” I broke the silence after clearing my throat.

“Princess Morgan,” Ada stopped me, grabbing my arm. I felt her fingers specifically dig into my long sleeve where my bicep was, feeling the curves of my muscle from sparring.

As I turned back to look at her, she pressed her lips to mine. Once the distance was closed, it was hard to think. Hard to make decisions. Hard to be responsible. But not impossible.

After indulging myself for a few moments I gently pulled back.

“Forgive me, your grace,” I murmured, meeting her glacial blue eyes with my own. I still didn’t pull away so much that we weren’t touching. I knew I was being foolish, but she felt so good being so close.

“Morgan, please. I need to feel loved. I need to be touched. I need someone to spend the night with me,” she begged. “I’ve seen your glances. I can read it on your face. You want to give me all that I need.” She took a deep breath. “As your future queen, I’m requesting it of you.”

Her breath was hot on my face. Her skin was soft. So soft.

“Come to my chambers in thirty minutes,” I muttered, stepping away. “Make sure you’re not followed. I’ll be there in an hour.” With that I strode back to the party.