#sir knight x oc

[mxmprincess]

She got her own matching apron tehe lmao.

[sketchygabz]

[plainandgeneric]

Some bits about this comic:

Godrick does not have the status to grant anyone the title of Leyndell. He gives Sir Knight the addition anyway. Leyndell was his home, and somewhere he still thinks he belongs. Therefore, he believes his personal knight must have it in his name as well.

Technically, this ceremony is not officially recognised. There were no (living) witnesses. In a way, they are just playing house. And their vows are totally not marriage vows :)

For his prayer, Sir Knight prayed to Godrick. 

[ichirostrange]

[eldenbiscuit]

Finger reader crone why do you attack thusly -.-

(Part II of demigod felled)

[velvet-apricots]

"Let your thoughts be only of love."

[prostohelovek]

Hi there 👋=^•^=

[comat0se]

Haha wow another WIP

[lenny-bee]

ugly armor

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

🫀and ♟️?

Questions from here:

Fair warning: Lots of Lore dumping is about to take place /A long read... (but for those of you who want a quick read, you can just skim to the picture/image sections which will give a quick summary of what is being explained.) Have a great day!~

Lady Celestine was actually never supposed to be Merlyn... She was originally going to be the "Lady of the Lake... Nimue"

If you see in the earlier drafts I tried to hang on to the whole blacksmith idea/ and the creator of the scared items but then I just changed it to alchemist cause it was just I solidified her role as Merlyn~

She was going to be the soul inside the Galaxia, but she lost all her memories because she was the first to rebel against the ancients and withheld her creations as an act of protest towards them and the other Heroes of Yore... And was punished as a result, but before she was permanently sealed she performed her last act of defiance and scattered them about the galaxy.

(Via. Galaxia imprisonment )

While Sir Uther & Sir Icarus were supposed to fill the bigger roles of how the galaxy became a wasteland, she was written to be the only truly "Good hero of Yore."

Lady Celestine as Lady of the Lake:

I couldn't grasp what to do with her... She definitely had a more stern personality to fit Galaxia, but I just couldn't get on board with her character. The best way to say it is I think I made her "too perfect" (or the girl bossed her too much... I was reading Remarried Empress at the time, so basically, she had Navier's personality.)

Seemly cold & calculating but has a heart of gold underneath is all merely misunderstood. Very nonsense struggles with connecting Normally methodical and is always composed but has a sarcastic tic to her if you rile her up enough...

She was still an owl lady, but it was a reference to the Athena Goddess of Wisdom in Greek Mythology. (Owls often being associated with her and being her symbolic creature.)

I much as I loved the arctype (Navier's personality.)I wasn't in love with her character...

She had nothing really attaching me to her... it just felt like she was there to fill a slot as another hero of Yore she had nothing endearing about her... I didn't know what to do with her...But I didn't want to throw her away (I loved her design & color scheme).

That is until I ran into another problem...

For those who don't know in the original draft, Srir Arthur was supposed to be the villain in the series. (or the surprise villain so to speak~) However, once the rewrite happened and created Sir Uther in the au...all his evil went into him.

Especially once I changed his relationship with Meta Knight as his father figure and became the one who saved him from Sir Uther. But despite all my mind just kept seeing that man as a villain~

But then it occurred while creating this post (Link here ) ... Wait a second (*me taking a long good look, at Sir Arthur in the narrative*) WHY ARE YOU GOOD? I needed a reason why Arthur was good in the KBASW.

I wrote him too naturally accepting he just seemed too suspicious... plus... And besides with such a corrupt system in the GSA (the one created by the Ancients & Uther), how could one good egg exist...

So in a very "Meta" way (pun intended), not only was I trying to find a motivation for him to be good that convincing in the narrative... I was also trying to convince myself...

Perhaps if it was another character, it'd be enough, but... The Sir Arthur from the first draft kept creeping in my mind... (it's so hard to let go of your first ideas...)

Then the answer came to me... who (in Arthurian) was Arthur's mentor and confidant, and his compass in guiding him to become king...Merlin. I had a Sir Uther... why not have a Merlin! (Plus, in the show Merlin 2008: Arthur started out as a little jerk ward and only became a better person through Merlin's influence!)

Wait a moment... don't I have a character design on the back burner.

So, I fully committed to changing her role as the Merlyn of the KBASW... I was able to get a better feel for who she was in the story. This resulted in the current design & personality she has now...

Basically, I pulled both the Disney & TV versions and took my favorite aspect of both of them which resulted in the vigilante persona of "Merlyn" was actually a nod to the TV series Merlin's old man persona Dragoon...I did want to make a few changes to really make her more than just a counterpart to Merlin. (I think that's why I got so stuck on her the first time when she originally was the Lady of the Lake...)

So her future vision would always be the main part of her character. Though I made it the reason why she was such an empathic person. Not only seeing the future, but she can feel it too:~

To go along with the whole guide theme, I made it a part of her title as a Hero of Yore~. Celestine, the "Navigator of the Constellation." The four-pointed Star Crystal refers to the "North Star," the closest star to the celestial pole, the main compassing star to signal north... it was used to guide people home~. (The moral compass)

Due to her ability, she gets overly involved in situations and emotions. Since she has all these terrible visions, she feels responsible for them. Which results in her being overly critical of herself when things go wrong and lacking self-care. Despite hating her abilities, she is overly reliant on them...

Overall she's a smart, witty, scatterbrained, down-to-earth, well-meaning goofball with a sassy edge...

I was finally able to give Celestine the soul that she needed. And how did they become a couple, you may ask? When writing her her story was so entirely laced with Arthur (because of Arthurian legend) that their chemistry was undeniable...(Also I shipped Merthur in the TV series, so once I saw an opening I took it)

And she since was supposed to be Arthur's person. I used complementary colors to connect the both of them together. Adding orange & gold to her blues & yellow...

And so with that all said Sir Arthur became

The First Redeemed Villian of KBASW~

Redeeming the former baddies so they can use their skills and talents for the forces of good through kindness (Kirby). Celestine is basically the first one to do so... This did so much for the plot.

Sir Arthur: If someone like me could be given a chance and be changed for the better... Then so can this lot (Referening to Star Allies)

Arthur can naturally, relate to Kirby's menagerie of former villains who wanted to improve and be reformed. It fixed the problem of his niceness/goodness coming off as disingenuous (when I first was writing). There's a motive and reason behind them... Celestine. She showed Sir Arthur that there was a better way, a smarter way, a kinder way... It's her influence & example that inspired him to be a better man... a good man.

That's how Arthur gained the empathy & courage to stand up to Sir Uther and injustice when he was about to execute baby MK. It also enriches Meta's relationship with Sir Arthur... The man was barely holding on, and Meta gave him a reason to live.

Due to the Ancient cursing & erasing Celestine from existence, she was, he could not even speak her name. But Arthur was able to walk around this by speaking about that funny whimsical rouge that he was never able to catch "Merlyn." The stories always made Meta laugh; however, he could never understand why Sir Arthur would speak of this failure so fondly.

He deeply blames himself for not being able Celestine. Everything that happened to her was out of his control... This is why Arthur wants to create a better world, a place where Meta & Celestine would've been accepted.

Not only that, but he has this fear of being alone left. This is why he made the safest route for Meta Knight (to be one of the holy knights to keep him safe...), but wasn't the right path for him which (Leads to "Birth of Lone Swordsman...") and misunderstands. This makes it all the more heartbreaking to Arthur that Meta Knight thinks he doesn't truly love & care for all of him... when he does </3.

(Don't worry) He learns his lesson, and they make up (early on during Falsapr getting punished for the Fisher King incident, spontaneously meeting up when they're both saving Falspar...) It wasn't a proper talk and it was mostly Arthur and Meta apologizing because they missed each other.

MK only understands Sir Arthur after the war (& the Knightmare's End Saga). And goes to apologize to him again during the Kirby & Crystal Shard (I need a reason why the Meta wasn't there during the game... perfect excuse...)

Also presents a reason why Sir Arthur allows Meta Knight & Kirby to stay in Dreamland. "You deserve a chance to find yourself after this war... that man (Uther) can no longer have a hold on us... You have nothing to prove, you're free now... but if you need anything I will always be here waiting, just visit when you can okay?"

He learns his lesson, too, allowing him to leave & stay as he pleases... and the door was always open for him & Kirby the gang!~

(and someone gets rather jealous of this bias.... *cough* Dragato)

And of course, they do visit often (the plot demands it)... This leads MK to re-establish closeness with his mentor (learning from his own time with Kirby). Sir Arthur was trying his best too & he isn't perfect... he's not invincible... Wait what's happening to him...Why is he moving slower... His protector who seemed so unshakable...his father-... Is he getting weaker?

The early reconciliation is to make way for the true conflict: Meta realizes that his father figure is growing older & weaker. But why (*cough* Trip to Underworld *cough *the deal *)... like I said the man did not leave for free, a price had to be paid... (Did I have these two rekindle their wholesome father-son relationship only to have something tragic happen to the father... yes!)

There's such an emotional reason why Meta Knight has to become the leader of GSA. He's not only continuing Arthur's legacy but also Celestine's legacy. With the way Arthur raised him, he was able to instill the beliefs of her as Merlyn... And I also:

In the Kirby game series, Meta Knight always offers a sword to Kirby. It comes into play with Arthur's story. This act was done with Arthur & Celestine, however, not for the sake of due... for a very different reason... And this action & courtesy is passed down. (There's a hidden special meaning behind it... SWORD & THE STONE REFERENCE)

And so, making Celestine Merlyn was the best decision I ever made!

Celarthur/Merthur

Really, I wanted to engineer a love story that complemented the series as a whole... I was able to write Arthur as a fuller character as well as give an emotional core to him. And Celestine became a fleshed-out three-dimensional character and found his place in the narrative.

I KID YOU NOT THESE TWO SAVED EACH OTHER'S CHARACTER WITHIN AND OUT OF THE STORY! I LOVE THESE GOOBERS WITH ALL MY HEART!

@kirbyoctournament

Fun Fact:

Guys I kid you not she was so close to being named "Celestia..."But then I kept associating the name with My Little Pony~ (hardcore Brony back in the day) So she became Celestine...

~

@ceoofmetagala I got so excited when I got your ask (♟️it was the question I really wanted to get), and the fact that you were the one who asked made me so happy... I JUST HAD TO GO ALL OUT ON THIS POST~ And then I think I got carried away and ended up making it too long!~

I know you wanted this was just a questions 🫀 &♟️ on them:

♟️: When did you make your oc?

But it ended up being snowballed into the trial & error of creating Celty and how she wound up as the final version of herself.

🫀 : is there anything your oc and canon characters don’t like about each other?

I promise I'll get into this 🫀 A lot of people asked this. I'll get to the one soon... I wanted to do something extra special for this one... comic maybe~ (this was the one where I hinted jokingly that everyone wanted Arthur to get the couch~)

I hope this is enough & that you like it!

[dreamroxy]

on a scale from 1-10 how worrying is it that this is the scene that flustered me the most in the whole game

[allamericanfinalgirl]

folklore

word count - (3K)

-

The battlefield was no longer visible in Gawain’s background when he crossed the threshold of a dark forest, dismounting at the stream so that Gryngelot may drink; Gawain led the horse to the water and then leaned down and cupped his worn hands together.

Before Gawain could drink, he felt the sharp point of a dagger pressed into his neck too late. A thief stood behind him; Gawain sensed another to his left with a club.

No words were exchanged.

The situation was clear. Gawain hurried to mount Gryn, but the sound of a bowstring stopped him dead in his tracks at the sight of the scavenger from the battlefield appearing in the copse of trees.

Gawain raised his hands in surrender, and the two thieves rushed him, kicking his legs out from under him, seizing his underarms, and forcing Gawain to his knees.

The scavenger reached behind Gawain's ear, pulled out the coin that Gawain gave him, and then flipped it in the air. “Weren't enough.” He gestured to Gawain's chest as the thief with the dagger pulled Gawain's knapsack from his shirt and cut the cord that held it around his neck.

The prince tried to escape, but the thief jammed the dagger back against his throat as the other thief with the club went to Gryngelot and began to untie the saddlebags, pulling the sword out of Gawain's scabbard and throwing it to the scavenger.

The Scavenger looked it up and down; he looked pleased to see such a fine weapon as he tossed it to the thief, who held it to Gawain's neck along with the dagger.

—

“I want auroras and sad prose,” A gentle voice’s song carried through the dark forest; A young woman in a simple white shift dress sat in the middle of her forest, worn hands holding a bowl to collect the sweet syrup that flowed out from the inside of the large tree she sat underneath, it’s large, colored leaves catching in her wild curls.

“I want to watch wisteria grow over my bare feet,“ The sound of pained cries filled the forest, slowing the witch’s song. “‘Cause I haven’t moved in years-“

“Please.”

“Please?”

A chorus of cruel laughter and taunts echoed from downstream that Kavya began to follow curiously, interest piqued as three silhouettes in the distance took on more detail the closer they came to her; A man in a persimmon-colored cloak was being hauled forcibly down the riverbank by highway thieves.

Kavya could watch in plain sight; she remained unseen to men’s eyes from the curse over the forest that kept her there.

The man in the persimmon cloak’s chest rose and fell with panic as he begged frantically with the thieves.

“You said you weren't a knight.” The scavenger accused with an upturned nose as the dark-haired man repeatedly tried to get to his feet.

“I’m not!” The dark-haired man cried, shaking his head frantically. “I’m not a knight!”

“-But you said you were.”

“I never said I was a knight,” Kavya couldn’t help but pity the man as his words tumbled over each other as he panted between panicked breaths. “You said I was a knight; I never said-“

“Smells like a knight.” The thief with the club inhaled deeply into the man’s hair as the scavenger lifted his dagger to rest upon his now tear-stained cheek, dragging it down his face until it clinked against the chainmail that stretched across his broad chest.

The scavenger then wandered over to the horse, passing Kavya by as if she did not exist; he saw an axe handle, grunting he tried to pick it up, but his attempts were in vain; motioning for his thief friend with the club to help him.

They try to move it together but cannot, while the man watches, knowing there is nothing he can do.

“Just tell me then,” The dark-haired man looked over his shoulder with tearful eyes, “Is there a really chapel?” The scavenger laughed and gestured to the trees, the stones,

the creek itself, the man’s eyes run over it all before resting on Kavya with a horrified expression.

-

Gawain was silenced, stripped of his armor, and bound at wrists and his mouth; The scavenger tied a rope around Gryngelot's saddle, trying to use him to pull the axe.

It didn’t seem to be working. Kavya frowned at the poor horse that may as well have gotten tied to a post. The horse’s owner struggled and screamed through his gag to warn them of the woman watching in the trees, but the thieves paid him no mind.

The sun moved lower in the sky. Shadows grew longer. The man was still bound but no longer struggling, having worn himself out. ‘The knots are too well tied.’ Kavya thought, waiting for the sun to set before she began to hunt.

Breathlessly panting through his gag, the man watched hopelessly as the thieves tried to pick the jewels out of the axe now, and it seemed not to be working.

Crickets were chirping as the sun sank into a redness past the trees.

The night was coming, and the man was now alone, still tied up, lying very still, axe laid on the ground; The thieves never managed to take it.

The horse grazed nearby; He looked at Gawain, then Kavya, and then wandered away, heading downstream and out of sight with the mystery woman following.

Gawain realized with a sinking feeling that he was now entirely abandoned. Despaired, he threw his head back, quite nearly weeping through his gag, thinking about his fate out there in the woods with the woman in the trees waiting.

—

Kavya followed a trail of fallen coins into the forest; Familiar voices grew louder as she came upon the two thieves and the scavenger, slowly walking up behind the brunette boy as he addressed his peers.

“I think I’ll finish his quest from here.” The scavenger said with a proud grin that slowly turned into a pained frown as he struggled to crane his neck to the left. To the horror of the two thieves, The scavenger’s neck began to bleed a waterfall down his chest as twin blood trails dripped from his eyeballs and nose.

The scavenger mindlessly reached out for the thieves, whose screams echoed in the forest as the fall of his corpse revealed a woman in a dress, smiling and dark eyes sparkling as she wiped the blood from her mouth and opened her mouth wide to reveal rows and rows of sharp teeth.

—

Meanwhile, Gawain was terrified of what the future might hold for him if he did not break free; A vision of his skeleton rotting throughout the seasons compelled him with newfound vigor, and he rallied his strength once more.

Laid there on his belly, panting, Gawain sees the axe; an idea occurs to him as he begins to squirm his way along the ground.

It's slow going, and Gawain knows he looks like an inchworm, flopping his way toward the axe; He makes it there and positions his body so the rope on his wrists catches ever so slightly on the axe blade and begins to rub the binding back and forth against the sharp edge, rope fraying until he sliced from the top of his thumb right down to his wrist.

Gawain cried out in pain, and it sounded unlike himself; blood gushed out, pooling in the dirt; recovering from the pain and working at it, Gawain heard a woman’s scream, followed by two more.

Finally, Gawain’s hands went free; he sat up

and squeezed his torn-open thumb. Again, that same woman’s scream made his blood run cold as he stumbled through the woods, following the burbling sounds of the stream as he looked for his horse.

Rapid footsteps made Gawain’s head snap up in fear as the two thieves came running toward him, screaming and crying like children as they rushed past him; the thief with the club ran head-on into a tree, his face connecting with the bark with a sickening thud as he collapsed to the ground, still and silent.

Heart pounding in his ears, Gawain’s slowly turned in the opposite direction to see what had made the thieves flee in such a manner; The same woman, who had endlessly long black curls, twisted and moved her body in a way Gawain had never seen.

The chudail reached her arms out as if she were beckoning someone into an embrace and inhaled deeply, throwing her fists down to let out that same scream that caused the thief, still on the run, to fall to his knees and shriek in agony, smacking his head repeatedly on the ground until he fell limp and silent like his friend.

The night that had fallen was dark and wet and cold.

The trees loomed like shadows around Gawain; He heard twigs snapping and the occasional growl.

A mist rose from the ground, lit by the light from an invisible moon; Gawain suddenly froze. Every hair on his body stood straight up.

A woman’s voice, softer now, humming a melody, mixing into the wind that led to a clearing and a bubbling spring,

Kavya slowed at the sight of the man in the persimmon cloak, Clutching his arms around himself for warmth; the axe clutched under his arm, his hand tied with what once was his gag, blood spilled all over himself.

‘Why is he not afflicted by me?’ Kavya wondered how he had ended up this way, hauled alongside the river with a head wound upon his forehead, seemingly immune to her magic as she tried to unleash another piercing scream upon him.

Gawain struggled to catch his breath, staring at the messy silhouette that looked back at him, blurred even more by the thin branches of the dark forest around them. “What are you?” He cried out, holding his axe out in fear.

Leaping back, Kavya concealed herself in the shadow of a nearby tree, holding her breath and reaching her hands up to cup her throat in confusion. ‘Have I lost my power?’ She began plucking her fingers in the open air as if playing the harp.

Gawain felt light-headed as his world went upright, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he fell unconscious. Kavya glanced around the forest for safety, wondering where this mystery man was traveling.

Briefly considering disappearing back to her cottage, Kavya dared to peer over her shoulder to try and make out the state of the vagabond, breathing a sigh of relief when it became apparent he would not awake any time soon.

A sigh left Kavya’s lips the longer she admired the man and his sharp, scruff-covered jaw and full lips, watching him with morbid fascination as she ventured further to stroke his mud-stained cheek gently. ‘He won’t last long with an injury like that,’ Kavya noted the dark blood patch covering his left temple.

Unable to keep down her curiosities, Kavya knelt beside the man’s head, letting her hand trail from the side of his dirtied face down to his torn tunic, revealing the bare expanse of his broad chest.

Splaying her hand across his dark skin, Kavya leaned forward until her cheek was pressed against his warm chest, dark curls falling over him as she held her breath to hear his heartbeat.

‘God,’ Kavya ran her finger down the length of the man’s large body, smiling when he did not stir as she draped herself across him and inhaled until his scent filled her senses, falling into the leaves and stretching out like a cat as she laid herself across him once more. ‘What are you?’ He was wholly male, but he wasn’t human; he felt like her.

Firmly patting the ground twice with an open palm, the man’s horse emerged from the dark, kneeling beside his master for Kavya to drag atop the horse’s back and take him into the pitch black of the forest.

—-

Two hands placing a cool rag on Gawain's forehead, and crackling fire and the smell of pine roused Gawain from his deep slumber, groaning as he braced his hand against the small cot he laid upon and pushed himself upright despite the ringing in his ears that told him to lie for a moment longer.

Looking down at himself, Gawain found he had been washed and dressed in clean bedclothes and tucked beneath the covers of a small cot in a candle-lit room.

Gawain ran a hand down his face; memory slowly returned to him as he looked around the cottage he found himself in; its walls were hewn together by various twigs and branches with bundles of sage hanging from them, and a large fireplace underneath a black, bubbling cauldron.

Rising too quickly, Gawain cursed and held his head when his forehead knocked against the ceiling. “Damn it.” His voice was hoarse, causing him to look for-

A relieved gasp left the prince’s lips as he seized a nearby bucket of water, not bothering with a spoon or cup as he downed its contents, even as water dripped down his tunic and soaked his beard.

Looking ahead, Gawain saw a door, realizing he was in a hut. Reaching out his right hand, Gawain paused when he saw it unmarked; his wound from cutting himself on his blade was gone, and his skin unblemished as if it had never happened.

Pressing an open palm against the door, it swung open to reveal the hut was a large stone cottage; an opening in the center lets the smoke from the fire in the center of the room escape.

Gawain glanced around as if he had been here before; Jars and pottery lined the shelves, filled with all manner of chemicals and liquids and other unsightly things.

The wooden bucket in his hands fell to the floor with a loud clatter as Gawain began to back away in shock at the sight of a chudail in the doorway. Beautiful, a woman of indeterminate age immediately, her eyes zero in on Gawain as if she had been expecting him.

Convinced that this chudail would snuff out his life, Gawain backed into the corner of the cottage with his broad shoulders squished against the narrow space and the woman peering up at him with an almost curious expression.

“You should sit.” Unable to speak, the chudail looked at him and motioned for him to enter. “You took a nasty fall,” Her voice was soft and gentle, a strange relief to Gawain after weeks of mistrust and exhaustion.

“The thieves broke this.” The chudail held up his broken shield, intricately painted by his sisters the night before Gawain took his leave from Camelot.

Gawain’s dark eyes locked on the axe, set down upon a long wooden table and unwrapped. The chudail leaned in close to the blade, putting her ear to it; it hummed strangely. “Like a tuning fork whose one note does not decay.” She rested her cheek against the cool metal; her curls splayed across it as she looked up at Gawain with sparkling dark eyes. “I hear no hex.”

Gawain was at a loss for words from this woman, there were a million questions on his mind, but the one that left his lips was not what he meant or expected. “Why did you take me from my quest?” The prince's tone came out in the tiny cottage, filling the space like a hot air balloon.

“I meant no harm.” The excited smile fell away from the witch. “You were bleeding on the forest floor,” Her curls fell on her face, voice shrank. “You would have died had I left you there.”

The anger faded from Gawain’s demeanor when the young witch began to rub circles into her palms, contrasting with the wraith he had witnessed in the forest. “You can leave,” she softly whispered, turning her face away.

Gawain would not admit it aloud, but after his brush with death, he was less eager to return to the forest and realized upsetting the woman, witch or not, was not the wise option for him.

“I am a traveler,” The prince in disguise furrowed his dark brows, “I have lost my way.”

Dark eyes widened in surprise, and Kavya’s head snapped up with a shocked expression “…What?” she questioned, surprised when he sat down beside her, clearing his throat and adjusting his chair. “Camelot. My home.” He explained, hoping the same charm he had used to bed Essel would aid him now. “I left it to go on a quest and have been led astray.”

“You must be exhausted.” The witch frowned sympathetically, resting her hand on his bruised arm. “Please sleep through the night, and I will give you safe passage out of the forest in the morning.”

The traveler nodded, suddenly bashful as he struggled to bow without upsetting his aches and pains. “I am Gawain.”

“I am Kavya.” The chudail bowed low to the floor, her handkerchief-like skirts splaying around her. “I am the witch of this forest.” She walked back to the room Gawain had awoken in, finding it magically remade and ready for him to rest. “I will be out here if you need anything.”

Kavya smiled as they bid each other goodnight, and she got into her bed, hugging her blanket and pretending it was Gawain. “Goodnight,” she bit her lip before speaking again, “Gawain.”

“Goodnight, Kavya.” Came Gawain’s voice from across the cottage; The witch had to tuck her face into her pillow to muffle an elated sound from hearing her name on Gawain’s tongue.

—

The bacon hissed as it met the hot pan; two more pieces joined it as soft humming began to fill the cottage, the sun rising and warming the small space.

Without looking, Kavya reached out to pluck two eggs from a nearby basket, cracking them against each other and opening the shells to empty their contents in the pan next to the bacon, her homemade spices sprinkled in between them.

The scent carried behind her to where Gawain lay asleep, rousing him from his slumber when one dark eye opened to take in his surroundings, reminding himself this was not home.

If this were his home, Gawain supposed the cottage wasn’t the worst place to be, primarily if it housed pretty girls who made him breakfast. “Good morning!” Kavya greeted cheerfully from her crouched position by the hearth. “I made breakfast,” she gestured outside. “Gryn has carrots, so you do not travel on empty stomachs.”

Gawain raised a dark brow. He did not remember telling the witch his horse’s name or nickname. Kavya winced when Gawain rose too quickly and hit his head on the top of the cottage, grumbling to himself as he sat beside her and began to dig in, realizing he had not had a hot meal, certainly not a home-cooked one, in a very long while.

“You do not have to tip-toe around me the way you do, you know.” Kavya gently chided the young man when he tensed after she moved to take her to drink, then reached out to pat his knee and swipe his remaining piece of bacon in the same gesture. “I promise not to bite.” She said with a teasing grin as she bit down on the meat, revealing rows of lovely sharpened teeth that Gawain found oddly alluring.

Gawain sat on the edge of a well as Kavya scooped water from a bucket with a gourd; she took a sip and then handed it to him, watching Gawain intently as his dark eyes wandered over the shelves that held her books. “Do you like poems?” She asked, rising and plucking a weathered blue text between a green and red one, holding it out to Gawain like a prize.

“I tried to.” Gawain shrugged, never one for hobbies such as reading or academics, more inclined to hunting or swordsmanship.

Kavya raised an unconvincing brow, a grin on the corner of her mouth. “Do you even know how to read?” She could not help but laugh at the incredulous look that crossed Gawain’s features.

“Of course I do!” Gawain became more flustered when his voice rose an octave higher, crossing his arms defensively and turning his face away like a displeased child. Opening one eye, his gaze drifted to a bemused Kavya. “Do I look like I don't?”

Kavya shrugged her exposed shoulders as if to say: ‘Maybe.’ “Tell me something,” She shifted closer to Gawain and propped her elbows atop the knees of her dress. “If you are a knight, and a knight is chivalrous above all else, why do you lie?”

“I am no knight.” Kavya nodded; it seemed to be this man’s favorite word. “So you say,” She toyed with her curls, trying to appear nonchalant. “Do you have a bride? Back home, where you came?”

Gawain immediately shook his head. “No. Maybe someday.” The image of Essel rose in his mind, and Kavya caught it in his face. “A lady?”

“At one time, yes.”

Kavya nodded knowingly. “So you do know something of love.” The prince became uncomfortable by the subject of questioning.

“A little.” Gawain finally looked at the witch for the first time; he couldn’t help admiring her willowy frame, the way her dress hung from her like a handkerchief, her long curls trailed to the ground but did not seem to bother her as Kavya pushed her hair back, giving him a good view of her sweet face and endlessly dark eyes. “Surely you know more of love than me,” He gestured to her, “Than a hundred of me.

Kavya threw her head back and laughed, the sweet sound filling the forest as she leaned far back over the well and placed a hand over her heart. “A hundred of you? What a scourge upon the land that would be.”

Reaching out, Kavya took Gawain’s face in both hands. “Come here.” With her thumb, she casually wiped the water from his lips; she then turned his head to the left and then to the right as if inspecting him.

“I suppose this is goodbye.” Gawain suddenly rose, adjusting his cloak, trying to come off as the traveler he had made himself to be to the witch despite the many signs he was not.

Kavya frowned and looked down at her intertwined hands, “I suppose it is.” She replied in a melancholy tone, looking out into the lonely forest she would be a part of once more.

The traveler in disguise couldn’t leave, as if his boots were stuck on the forest floor, and the strangest part of it all was that after all Gawain had witnessed Kavya do, he did not want to go.

“Thank you. Again.” Gawain bowed respectfully to the witch but did not waver from his spot, his fingers still looped loosely around Gryn’s reins. “I fear your hospitality will be too hard to leave.”

Kavya nodded, confused as to what was holding the man back, as he seemed so eager to take his leave only hours ago. “Can I see you again?” Her head snapped up from where she had been idly stroking Gryngolot’s mane, dark eyes widening with growing excitement.

Gawain avoided her gaze, unfamiliar to someone so pleased by his presence.

“Yes!” Kavya covered her mouth with her hands when her elated reply echoed through the forest, scaring a few birds. “Please, come back.” She smiled and smoothed out her skirts, pulling her hair over her shoulder to toy nervously with her curls. “I would like that very much.”

Nodding in agreement, Gawain hoisted himself upon Grin and looked back at the witch with a worried look. “How do I find you again?” Kavya only flashed him a mischievous grin as she began to back away into the arms of the forest.

“You will.”

[sketchygabz]

[plainandgeneric]

Farewell, Leyndell.

Lady and knight, disgraced demigod and hired rogue. Godrick x Sir Knight (OC)

[hee-blee-art]

little portraits of my gays for artfight :)

[raffe156]

Chain Mail and Silk

Pairing - Price X MC (Tank) F!reader

Summary - Little fluff drabble for the Knights AU

A/N - The brain rot I have for this AU is crazy haha I wrote this today while nursing a hangover from being out very late last night so please enjoy!

I really appreciate all the recent feedback and asks! Please keep em coming! Especially to the anon that started this DLC 🤣

Warnings - slight angst, forbidden love? Language, fluff, Age gap Relationship, Price (40) Tank, (25) she defo should be married off by that age haha

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank & Luke

Tags: @shuttlelauncher81 @fanficandartgal @deadbranch @soapyghost​ @mostannoyingbillioner @chb-7

“My lady, please let me finish it off for you, your fingers look sore…” Cece pleaded with you.

“No…it’s quite alright…ow…I want to do it myself”

A few more stitches an you were finished, your initials just legible in gold thread, it wasn’t perfect but it would do. You looked at Cece triumphantly.

“Very nice mlady”

“Let’s just hope he actually does ask for my favour after all that”

********

Price watched as you took your seat in the royal box, your father being an advisor to the king allowed for that privilege. He had donned his best armour and rode out onto the field, his heart pounding with anticipation. The slight scandal of him asking for your favour was not lost on him. He was the knight commander his mind was meant to be focused on battle plans and strategies, not wooing a lady of the court 15 years younger than him.

Your eyes fixed on him as he rode towards you. You had convinced yourself he wasn’t going to ask you and ask one of the other women instead, but there he was just below you with that eye crinkling smile that made your heart flutter.

“My lady, may I ask for your favour? Such a token would be an honour to an old knight commander such as myself” there were a few mumbles as you leant forward.

“Of course Sir Price” you handed him your handkerchief his hand holding on to yours for a few seconds longer than needed. As you slowly withdrew your hand Price looked down at the silk handkerchief, your initials embroidered in gold thread on the corner, just under the last stitch a tiny dark spot, you must of pricked your finger.

“Thank you my lady, I shall keep it next to my heart for it shall protect me better than any chain mail” he bowed his head as he folded it up tucking it under his breast plate. You bowed your head in return his kind words making your cheeks flush. The mumbling started up again, but you didn’t care, The knight commander had asked for your favour.

*******

The day was long and grueling, but Price fought with all his strength and skill. And in the end, he emerged victorious, having unhorsed all his opponents and won the tournament. Even at his age his level an skill never let him down even against men half his age.

As he removed his helmet and wiped the sweat from his brow, he felt a surge of pride and joy at the sight of you stood applauding his final victory your eyes wide with excitement. He hoped Garrick had got the message to Cece that he wanted to meet with you later that night in the eastern tower.

*******

As the whole castle slept you creeped through the dark corridors all the way to the eastern tower a tall candle lighting your way. You climbed the steep stone steps to the top opening the door to the small room, you thought maybe Price had changed his mind as it was empty but then from the shadows he appeared his dark blue eyes as if light from behind greeted you from the dark.

“I thought you’d changed your mind” you placed your candle on a near by dresser.

“Never…” he closed the distance between you in one stride, his arms wrapping around you pulling you back tight to his chest his face buried in your hair.

“You did well today, I heard the king singing your praises and you made a lot of men very rich by the way” you rested your hand on the back of his head.

“I don’t care about making other men rich and I’d take you singing my praises over the king any day” he mumbled the words into your hair.

“Don’t let the king hear you say that…or my father for that matter…he still wants me married off to sir Luke the one with the highland cows” Your words made Price step back he hated when you spoke of your fathers numerous attempts at marrying you to the highest bidder, it caused his heart to ache and blood to boil.

“Sir Luke can gladly fuck off…” Price scowled at even the repetition of the name.

“Never mind all that…..what was it you wanted to show me?” There was that child like excitement in your eyes again, your hands clasped together tight.

“Sit down” he guided you to sit in the small seat by the candle light, the glow illuminated your face and it almost caused his heart to cease, you were the most beautiful creature he had ever had the grace to lay eyes upon and here you were entertaining an old fool of a man.

Price handed you a small velvet box. Inside was his gold signet ring, his family crest engraved on the front.

“I know this is not nearly as beautiful as your handkerchief," he said, "But I hope you'll wear it in some form as a symbol of my love for you” as he spoke you took the ring from the box and slipped it on to your ring finger holding your hand up to admire how it looked in the candle light, you smiled at him, your best smile only reserved for him, it made his heart pang back to life in his chest.

“It looks rather nice on that finger doesn’t it?” Your smile turned to a grin. Price gave you a small smile, he would love nothing more than to slip a wedding band onto your finger, fully an finally claiming you as his an him yours, for the whole kingdom to see, but that was a new kind of war he hadn’t yet planned a strategy for, but for now he simply agreed with you.

“It does my love…it truly does” he held your hand up kissing it just below where the ring sat.

******

You had both been talking for hours entangled on the old ornate lounger as the tall candle was now just a wick fighting to stay alight.

“You better get back to your chambers mlady…I’m sure Cece will be thinking I’ve had my wicked way with you…” Price nuzzled his face into your neck his beard tickling you.

“I’m sure she will be climbing the walls, that or hunting poor Garrick down!” You laughed at the thought as you made you way to the door Garrick was a highly decorated knight and had fought in many battles but he was terrified of little Cece.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You looked back at him.

“I’ll make sure to find you, maybe I’ll escort you on you afternoon ride? Cece permitting” He bowed his head taking your hand in his again to kiss it. You longed for his kisses on other parts of your body. Parts that made your skin run hot an heart to beat loud like a drum.

“I’d very much like that…” you made your way down the steep steps the cold wall guiding you down.

“Good night mlady” he bowed his head once more. This parting ways was always bittersweet as now you had to return to your respective roles only offering small glances an secret smiles across crowded rooms. Price watched as you made your way back to your chambers the glow from the moon lighting your way. Though it pained him, he knew you would hold his token of love close to your heart an he yours.