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#'AT YOUR SERVICE~!' ( medieval twitch au)
viciouslyfilthy · 2 years
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.:Twitch tag dump:.
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REGULAR VERSE: 'from out of the sewers comes...doom' ( twitch )
VISAGES: 'I hear you're trash. BOW BEFORE YOUR KING.' ( twitch visage )
AESTHETICS: 'SEWERS SKEWERS FOR EVERYBODY!' ( twitch aesthetic )
MUSINGS: connoisseur of the Finer Things ( twitch musings )
HEADCANONS: 'all pipes lead to home' ( twitch headcanons )
AU: 'who's afraid of the big bad RAT?' ( kingpin twitch au ) ; Winter Chaos ( whistler village twitch au ) ; 'AT YOUR SERVICE~!' ( medieval twitch au) ; 'until you retire to bask in well-earned praise' ( omega squad twitch au ) ; 'THE FIERCEST OF THEM ALL!' ( dragonslayer twitch au )
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juniper-sunny · 8 months
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A Knight to Remember - Part 4 (End)
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Medieval AU | Knight!Silco | Silco x Female!Reader | No (Y/N) | Romance | Slow Burn | Fluff || NSFW | Vaginal Fingering, P in V Sex, Mirror Sex, Breeding Kink | WC: 7.84k | art by @designfailure56 | betas: @silcoitus @deny-the-issue
ao3 || Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
The ever-growing attraction between you and your knight is endangered by forces outside your control…
taglist: @sherwood-forests @ilikemymendarkandfictional @ursawastricked @quirkykaty @let-the-monster-out @ariaud @deny-the-issue @beardedladyqueen
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No matter how much your knight insisted otherwise, he seemed quite tired. The tournament was only yesterday; perhaps he needed more time to rest before he resumed his usual duties. But as always, he followed you to the meadow and refused to go home.
“Sir knight,” you said sternly, “You insist that you must remain at my side to serve me properly. Yet you will serve me better if you are well-rested.”
“Your father’s orders were to never leave you,” he said with a teasing smile. “And they supersede your own.”
“He would make an exception if he could see your exhaustion,” you rolled your eyes. “Do not presume you can hide it from me, sir knight. You are nearly asleep on your feet.”
As if to prove your point, a yawn overwhelmed your knight. Even as he raised his hand to cover his mouth, the sun glinted off his chipped teeth.
You patted the ground next to where you sat. “Come rest here, sir knight. It should satisfy you to obey both my father and myself.”
Further disagreements continued for what felt like hours. But a bumblebee landed on his nose without him noticing, as it alighted when he had shut his eye for longer than he intended. It was the only proof he accepted that you might be right about his fatigue.
You half-hoped that he would lay his head in your lap. But as he lay down, he laced his fingers behind his head, a thin cushion between himself and the ground. Only a moment passed before his eye drooped shut, regular breaths growing deeper and deeper. You smiled as you plucked a coneflower and placed it over his heart. The breeze blew it off his chest and into his face, where it landed next to his nose. He twitched in his sleep, mumbling. You moved to pluck the flower when it was carried away by another, stronger wind.
You pulled your knees up to your chest as you watched your knight slumber peacefully. It was strange how comfortable he felt in your company. Showing his vulnerability to you, and only you. You could not articulate what you had done to deserve loyalty from such a good man, but you were more than happy to be a safe haven for him.
No matter how hard you prayed, that was all you would be to him: his lord’s daughter. You could never be his lover.
Especially with the news that you had yet to share with him.
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Your knight found out sooner than you would have liked. Of course he did. He was at the center of it, after all. Your lord father was so impressed by his service to you and his performance at the tournament, he wanted to offer your knight an elevated position: the head of the household guard. 
Somehow, the news had spread to your other servants. They gossiped idly in your presence, unaware of how the topic caused you emotional turmoil. Another few days passed before you could offer your congratulations to the knight in privacy, on one of your clandestine outings. This time, you were perched on a rock by the river while he stood next to you.
He turned his piercing gaze to you in appraisal. Try as you might to offer him a genuine smile, he looked at you in concern.
“My lady,” he asked, his brow furrowed. “What troubles you?”
“Nothing!” you squeaked, looking away too quickly. You rolled a handful of rocks in your hand, looking for the best one to skip across the water’s surface.
He stared intensely at you while you fidgeted restlessly. You ignored him, picking out a long flat rock larger than your palm. You prickled uncomfortably under his stare, and you threw the rock in a wide arc. It splashed into the water and sank, your concentration so ruined that you could not skip it properly.
“I am sorry, sir knight,” you finally said. “I… I am afraid to tell you the extent of my selfishness. These thoughts that plague me… you will find them unforgivable.”
“Never, my lady,” he said immediately. “I only wish you would unburden yourself, especially if I am able to help.”
You smiled weakly at him, sincere this time. But you turned away to look at the waters, unable to look at him directly. “May I say first that my foremost hope is for your happiness. You ought to do whatever you like without concern for my own wishes. I understand that my father’s offer is too good to refuse… and yet… it is my selfish desire that you do not accept.
“I do not mind that you would no longer serve only me,” you were quick to add, “but your new duties would mean that… we could no longer spend as much time together, alone. Perhaps these outings would cease entirely.” You made a sweeping gesture towards the water as if you could snatch these stolen moments out of the air and pocket them for later.
“But it is not your destiny to live out the rest of your days as my knight,” you continued, and this notion pierced your heart with longing sadness. “You were meant for greater things, and I should not keep you from reaching them.” Even if he had to leave you behind entirely.
He leaned on the rock you were seated on, close enough that you could have reached out and taken his hand when he placed it next to yours. Your little finger brushed against his, gently grazing the leather of his gloves.
“I am taking that into consideration, my lady,” he said quietly. “I have grown accustomed to your constant company. I would hate to lose it.”
“Truly?”
He nodded. He looked at you sincerely, and his hand shifted closer to yours. Almost raising it as if to place it over your own.
“You would still reside in my father’s hall, sir knight,” you tried to reassure him even as your heart fluttered at his words. “We could still see each other enough.”
“But not every day,” he said. It was a statement and not a question. Currently, it was normal for the two of you to always be seen together. In his new position, you would have to seek each other out. And then spending so much time alone together in such close proximity would draw suspicious eyes to you.
“No… not every day,” you said glumly. But you perked up, determined not to influence your knight’s decision. “But you will earn more coin and prestige than you currently do, sir knight. Do not let me keep you from what you deserve.”
“Serving you and being with you is already more than I deserve,” he said softly.
“Do not make this decision lightly,” you chided him gently. “I would not have you miss out on this great opportunity.”
“I will decide for myself how great this opportunity is,” he said. But he smiled warmly at you. “It seems we share the same concerns for our futures.”
“You should not concern yourself with mine, sir knight,” you said insistently.
“I find that impossible, my lady,” he said, now smirking.
The two of you squabbled in circles like this up until the very moment you returned to town. Still, you were heartened that the knight acknowledged your worries. But should you have shared them with him at all? Perhaps you should have ordered him to say “yes”. The thought that he might turn down your father’s offer filled you with guilt, a sour, twisting knot in the pit of your stomach that grew heavier as the day went on. Battling with happiness that your knight was considering staying on in your service anyways. And all of that tumbling into more guilt at your selfishness again. A horrible maelstrom of conflicting emotions that almost made you physically ill.
It distracted you so thoroughly that your father needed to call out your name multiple times at dinner, attempting to engage you in conversation.
“Are you alright?” he asked you.
“Yes, father,” you said quickly. “What were you saying?”
He leaned forward in his seat, wringing his hands. “Your brother has sent word from abroad. He hopes to return to us before the end of the month… but we must prepare for the possibility that he may not survive the journey.”
That was enough to shake you from your reverie. Your brother had traveled to a faraway country years ago, excited to see more of the world, only to nearly drown during his voyage over stormy seas. You had been too young to accompany your mother when she visited him, left behind with your distraught father at home. Your mother eventually returned with the good news that he had survived but had refused to come home. You had not seen him since, only exchanging letters with him on occasion.
You still loved him very much. The prospect of his death frightened you. Hearing your father speak of it made your heart leap in your throat, and your grip trembled around your fork.
Your mother grabbed your other hand, attempting to comfort you as she scowled at your father. “Why would you speak of such tragedy aloud?? He is older and stronger now and will return to us safely. I will not have you wishing him ill fortune—”
“Of course I pray for his safe return,” your father interrupted, still stoic. “I would mourn his death greatly, but we must think of our future.”
He was going to say it. A notion that you had disliked ever since you were a little girl and positively dreaded now that you were a woman… now that you and your knight were—
“Child…” your father started solemnly. “If your brother should die, then you will need to marry an heir.”
“I will not!!” you cried out. “I—”
“You must,” your father said dismissively. “It is your duty as my daughter. Think of our people. If there is no one to lead them after my passing then—"
He swallowed hard, then looked away in distress. You would have unleashed vitriol at him, but it seemed a heartless thing to do, to pour salt on his wounds. After all, you both shared the fervent hope that your brother’s death would not come to pass.
“For one of my children to rule these lands in my stead… it is all I wish,” your father said somberly. “If it cannot be your brother then it must be you and your future husband.”
“I would be happy to rule and live chaste than to marry someone I do not love,” you blurted out. “Is that not good enough for our people?” “How long would you stay chaste for?” your father frowned. “What if you do not find love until it is too late for you to bear children? Then who will you name as a successor?”
“I…” this conversation was too closely approaching a truth you had kept hidden from everyone. One that you were afraid to acknowledge, even to yourself. To be forced to admit it in front of your parents— before telling your knight directly—would be the worst scenario possible. You chewed your lip and turned away.
“Is there someone you wish to marry?” your mother asked. Was it your imagination or did her eyes flick up to your knight standing behind you? What did she see?
You stabbed your dinner (roasted chicken breast, so reminiscent of what you and your knight used to feed Leo together) and sawed away at it with your knife. If you preoccupied yourself with your food then perhaps your mother would lose interest and you would not have to answer her question.
But she called out your name, even as you chewed overly large mouthfuls. Your father’s attention focused on you as well. You took your time sipping from your cup.
You could only lie or tell the truth… A lie was better, but not by much.
You set down your cup and angled it so the water almost spilled onto the table. Hoping to catch a glimpse of your knight’s reflection as he stood behind you. Damn the high-backed chair you were seated on— it was too tall for you to casually lean around to look at your knight. If only he were standing on the other side of the room, behind your parents where you could see each other.
If only he knew that you were about to lie not just for your sake, but his as well.
“…no,” you mumbled.
“Then we shall endeavor to find a good husband for you,” your father leaned back in his seat. He let out a sigh, as if he were relieved that you would not further complicate his planning. “What about that warrior from the tournament? I believe his name was Flynn? Or was it Finn?”
“He is not a warrior, and certainly not good enough for our daughter!!” your mother snapped. “He is a turkey of a boy—”
Your parents devolved into debating about who you ought to pair up with. There was no use trying to speak up. They had seemingly already settled the matter without you.
As much as you loved them and they loved you, in this moment you hated them.
But not as much as you hated yourself.
“Excuse me,” you choked out by way of announcing your departure. Your mother and father were too busy arguing to notice.
You walked away as quickly as you could, hugging yourself tightly. Attempting to hold yourself together. But you could not calm your shallow breaths. Tears sprung unbidden to your eyes.
The footsteps of your knight followed. Was he following you out of loyalty? Or was he hurt by your lie? What did he think when he heard what you said to your parents? Did he feel anything at all?
Finally, you arrived at the staircase leading to your chambers. You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes, hoping to hide how upset you were before turning to your knight.
“Sir knight…” you started in a low voice, conscious of how someone could walk in on the two of you at any moment. Faltering when you noticed how stiffly he carried himself, how his grip choked the hilt of his sword. But you swallowed and tried again. Forging on even as your own throat refused to cooperate. It was important to address everything he witnessed tonight.
“I understand… my lady,” he said heavily; you would not have thought it possible but your heart sank even lower. “You have a duty to perform, just as I have mine. It was a mistake to believe our futures could be entwined beyond that.”
“Do not be so eager to believe that this is the end of our future,” you whispered energetically. “My brother may yet return to us safely.”
“If he does, will your father still wish to choose a husband for you?”
You shook your head. “No. He has always been rather liberal in the care of his family. Not many ealdorman would allow their sons or wives to travel freely… or allow their daughters to marry whomever they please.”
“And who would it please you to become your future husband?” the knight asked, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. Looking down at you with a curious smile.
You blushed and cleared your throat, stalling. Of the interrogations you were subjected to tonight, this one was less unpleasant. But it still discomforted you greatly. “Someone below my own station… I prefer to pay no mind to such matters, but my father feels differently. He would only accept such a union if my brother survives long enough to rule in his place.”
“What will you do if your brother does not live?” your knight asked quietly.
“I… I do not know,” you admitted.
“Perhaps his death will not come to pass,” he said. “In the meantime, I shall offer my prayers for his safety… and for your happiness.”
“Thank you,” you said, wiping your eyes. You sighed as exhaustion took hold of you, forcing you to lean against your bedroom door for support. “Rest well, sir knight.”
“Rest well, my lady,” he said. He bowed his head to you before turning away.
Your thoughts followed him as his footsteps trailed off. His question made you restless for many nights, keeping you from sleeping peacefully. You labored over an answer in your waking hours as well, half-distracted when engaging with anyone other than your knight.
Nothing in your upbringing could have prepared you for this. To choose between your own happiness and the duty being forced upon you. Before you met your knight, you could tolerate the prospect of marrying someone you did not love. It seemed abstract enough that you could ignore it most of the time.
Now, though… at your current age, there was only one romantic prospect who could make you happy. And he was within arm’s reach, sitting next to you in your meadow. To be torn from him would be too painful to bear. Especially when you were moderately certain that he felt the same way.
He no longer stood over you on these trips to the forest, but sat next to you whenever he could, his knee close enough to almost touch yours. The brilliant teal of his eye mirroring the clear skies of the summer. More often than not, he was weary to the point of needing to nap during most of your outings. You always had to ask him to rest, as he never acknowledged how tired he was. He would always insist that he did not need to be sent home. But if he was ill or attending to some mysterious errand that cut into his sleep, he never divulged the truth no matter how much you fussed over him. When you asked if you both should attend prayers at church for once, he insisted that visiting the woods was more enjoyable.
Today, he seemed energetic enough, examining the blooms in the meadow, searching for purple coneflowers. When he found one in good condition, he would reach out and pluck it. Holding it delicately and passing it to you in a singular elegant, graceful movement. Helping you accumulate enough flowers for you to knot them together in a long chain.
“Have you come to a decision regarding my father’s offer?” you asked, holding up your handiwork. It was not yet long enough for your liking; it would need only a few more flowers before it reached the desired length.
He nodded. “It is contingent on your brother’s return.”
“How so?” You looked sideways at him. The sunlight gently illuminated his profile, dappled in warm gold and honey.
The coneflower he held between his thumb and pointer finger was an especially large one, almost the size of a coin. He studied it carefully, looking down his long nose in silent inspection. It seemed to pass muster, and he reached out to hand it to you. If he decided to tuck it behind your ear you would not have minded. You would have even enjoyed his touch. It was hard not to be disappointed when he dropped the flower into your outstretched palm instead. But you knotted it onto your string without complaint.
“If your brother arrives safely, then I will accept the position,” he said slowly. “If he does not, then I will stay on as your knight.”
“Why…?” you asked. He had told you many questionable things before, but this one piqued your curiosity the most.
“If your future husband is of questionable character then I must remain by your side to protect you,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Sir knight… thank you,” you said softly, touched by his thoughtfulness. “But I have already told you not to sacrifice your future on my behalf. I will not ask you to share my pain.”
“It would be painful enough to see you wedded to another no matter how far apart we are,” he said, voice low. His tone was steady, but a twitch in his jaw betrayed him. Still concealing the true depths of his upset. “I could never be without you.”
A thrill fluttered in your chest, a coal of excitement warming you. “Nor I you.”
He gave you a sad smile as he handed you another flower. It was the last one you needed. You added it to your string and knotted the ends together so it became a loop long enough to wear as a necklace. When you held it up to examine it, it made a lovely frame for your knight, long green stems interrupted by warm purple blooms, contrasting with the bright orange seeded hearts.
“No,” you said abruptly, dropping the flowers into your lap. You grabbed your knight’s gloved hand in both of yours, the leather warm and rough in your grasp. “You once wished to help me find strength, enough to defy my fate. I would ask that of you now.”
His eye widened and mouth fell open, face elongated in surprise. But he did not pull away from you as you trembled in fear, suddenly afraid that the knight would say no to your incoming request.
“Run away with me,” you said. “I will not wish to stay here if my brother dies. We could leave this life behind.”
His eye darted between your face and his hand held in yours. A bright gleam in the teal pool of his eye as he leaned in, “My lady… do not ask this of me. It would be a difficult life on the road. I would not have you suffer it.”
“But you would let me suffer as another man’s wife?” you asked. “That would be too cruel a destiny to endure.”
“What of your parents?” “What of them?” you asked defiantly.
“Would you have them suffer the loss of both their children?”
“I have served them well enough all my life. This duty they ask of me is the only burden I cannot bear.”
“You would have no coin or servants at your disposal,” he warned.
“I would rather live poor and free than imprisoned with all the comforts of the world,” you said. “And I could survive it all if you were with me, sir knight.”
You let go of his hand to grab your loop of flowers. You twisted it into a figure eight, looping one hole around your wrist. A tremble lingered in your hand as you held up the other half of the bracelet. It was meant for your knight if he would accept it.
“Do you truly wish to live this way?” your knight asked.
“I do,” you said simply. Raising the flowers higher.
He stared at you for a long time, watching, waiting for you to falter. When you did not, he threaded his own hand through the flower loop and gently clasped your hand. 
“I could imagine no greater happiness than joining you,” he said softly.
He lowered your hand to kiss it. Heat bloomed under his mouth where he touched you, a flicker of flame igniting at the contact. His breath soft as a wingbeat, a warm breeze gliding over your skin. Lips molding into the shape of your knuckles.
Your cheeks burned hotly, but you could not pull away. You did not want to. If your knight let go you would have taken his hand again. But he seemed to feel the same, turning your hand over to kiss the seam where your palm met your wrist. Pulling you close as if he meant to fill the scar on his lip with you.
“Sir knight…” you said, and he finally looked up at you, quiet adoration in his eyes. “Whatever fates should unfold, I hope to endure them together… with you.”
He nodded. There was no need for him to speak. His intentions were the same as yours. It was clear in how reluctant he was to let go of you when it was time to depart, how you had to be the one to gently pull your hand out of his grip. The flower chain fell off, and he pulled off his glove before wrapping it around his own wrist. Pulling his glove slowly over his new bracelet, careful not to dislodge any petals. Accepting your claim on him but concealing it from the rest of the world. A sign of your bond known only to the two of you. 
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The thrill of your knight’s promise did not wane when you returned home. Even as your anxieties rose for your brother’s safety during evening prayers, it was heartening enough that you were bound to your knight regardless of your brother’s fate. Despite yourself, you could not help but wonder how to prepare for your potential escape. After all, your parents were looking for your potential suitors even as your brother still lived. It was a race against time.
There were many questions you had to consider for the planning. You meant to bring them up with your knight at your next outing, but he did not join you for breakfast. His absences were few and far in between, only brought upon by illnesses so severe that even his stubbornness could not bear him through. But in his years of service, this was the first time he had failed to notify you. None of your other attendants knew of his location or his health, leaving you to worry endlessly. It had you afraid to leave your father’s hall as if you might receive news of your knight’s whereabouts, if only you waited long enough.
The waiting was not long before a commotion interrupted your meal. One of your father’s scouts burst into the room, stalking straight to your father’s seat. He made to scold the man for his interruption but stopped himself when the scout leaned in to whisper. Whatever news was shared had your father smiling and sighing in relief.
He clasped your mother’s hand as he turned to her. “Our son lives. He is at this very moment arriving at the shore—”
Impatience had you leaping out of your seat, leaving your parents and unfinished food behind. It was good news to be sure, but one you wanted to confirm with your own eyes. You ran to the stables and took the fastest horse. Galloping away even as your servants called out after you.
You rode and rode and rode, driving the horse to its limits. Trees blurred past you, branches catching on your dress. Soon, you stopped at the top of a tall hill that gave you a high vantage of the woods.
The main path leading to your father’s estate was occupied by a fairly large retinue of men. Despite the years you had spent apart, your brother was easily recognizable. A little taller and now sporting a beard, but he was the same beloved sibling you had grown up with nonetheless.
And who should be riding beside him?
It was none other than your knight.
More enthusiastic than ever, you urged your horse downhill. It trotted slower than you would have liked, but the descent was steep and forced you to exercise caution. Your brother rode ahead in the procession to meet you as you arrived on the road.
“Sister!” your brother called out as his horse and yours lined up side-by-side. He grinned brightly at you. “It’s good to see you.”
“I missed you,” you said joyfully. And you sincerely did, to an even greater extent that you did not realize until seeing him again. You would have hugged him if you could.
“You look well! Have you grown smaller?” he teased.
“You grew a beard,” you chuckled. “If I had known then I would have been less afraid of you drowning. It seems large enough to help keep you afloat.”
“The winters abroad are much colder than the ones at home. If you had to endure them, you would want a beard as well,” he laughed. “How are our parents?”
“They are well. We were eating breakfast when we heard you arrived,” you said. “I imagine they are preparing for your return at this very moment.”
“Did you come out here because you wanted to see me?” he said. “Your knight did the same.”
“Oh?” you turned around, looking for him. He was riding several paces behind you, nodding in greeting. Still too far away to join your conversation.
“He said he awaited my arrival at the shore every morning before attending to you,” your brother said. “He hoped to escort me home personally as a gesture of welcome.”
“He did?” that would explain why your knight had been so tired lately. Perhaps he even wished to deliver the good news to you himself. You turned behind you to call out to him, “Thank you!”
Your knight nodded and smiled, a small one that tilted the line of his mouth upwards ever so slightly. Were it not for the distance you would have thanked him more profusely, but you turned to your brother again, conversing about everything that had occurred in his time away. Once you arrived home, your brother whisked you away to greet your parents together.
There was much to be done in the improvised celebrations of your brother’s return. Admittedly, much of the work would be carried out by your servants, but your mother made you clean out your brother’s room, which you had been using to store books and trinkets that would not fit in your own. Then he enlisted your help in unpacking his possessions, among which were many fascinating gifts he bestowed upon you and your parents. These and the tales he regaled you with would normally have been very enthralling, but your thoughts kept straying towards something much closer to home.
No matter how hard you tried to focus on the family reunion, you kept thinking of your knight. The joy of averting a separation from him enhanced your happiness at your brother’s return. But he was nowhere to be found when you finally had a free moment. Word had spread that he had accepted your father’s offer and was to be sworn into his new position. However, there was the unfortunate fact that he had still abandoned his post as your knight this morning, even if only for a few hours. Despite your protests, his actions still warranted a punishment, albeit a mild one: for the feast tonight, he was to be stationed outside your father’s hall, outdoors in the cold. 
Although you had not finished your breakfast earlier, you still had no appetite for the dinner feast. All dining and entertainment were less engaging than your knight’s company. But you could not find a polite time to excuse yourself, not until much later when your brother himself had enough of the festivities. When you departed the dinner table, you did not head straight to your room. Instead, you wandered out.
Your knight was once again nowhere to be found.
Still, you walked back inside with a spring in your step. There was always tomorrow.
The halls were still bustling with servants clearing away the remnants of the celebrations, but the noises faded behind you as you climbed up the stairs to your bedchambers.
Standing outside your door was your knight. Waiting for you.
“Silco—!”
He swept you up in his arms, kissing you. His lips molded soft and gentle against yours as his arms wound around your waist, pulling you tight against him. You kissed him in turn, feeling the notch of his scar against your own mouth. The chill of the evening air still clung to his chainmail sleeves, but you were so warm. Excited and thrilled at him finally touching you. Satisfying your yearning for him as he crushed you against him, as if he meant to rid everything standing between you, even the very air itself.
Your own arms wound around his neck. His eagerness at your reciprocation made him sloppy, growing more insistent as he flicked his tongue against your lips. Prompting you to open your mouth wider so he could taste more of you. Each pass of his tongue inside your mouth thrilled you, molten heat and passion gliding down your throat to pool deep in your core. When you moaned, the shape of his kisses changed as he grinned, the carved shape of it still pressing against you. He pulled away, staring deep into your eyes as his own was half-lidded, hazy.
As much as you would have enjoyed spending the night standing there in his arms, you needed to move. You grabbed his elbow and pulled at him, striding to your door and slamming it shut behind the both of you. Then you turned and hugged him, kissing him again. He was soft again, slow, breathing you in deep as he held his lips against yours for long, ponderous moments, savoring the feel of you against him.
“My lady…” he said in a low voice, beholding you with his good eye. His gaze was reverential, his hand holding your cheek as you nuzzled into it. So careful with you as if you were a bubble that might burst.
“Silco…” you whispered, saying his name only for the second time since he was sworn into your service. There had been countless times you wished to speak it out loud but could not find the courage to do so. It felt less strange in your mouth as you said it now.
He closed his eye as he resumed kissing you, shallow breaths puffing against your face. “I have craved you for so long…”
“Then sh-show me,” you stuttered as he planted kisses on your lips, your cheek, your eyes, your forehead. Your own kisses landed clumsily on his chin and neck as you fumbled with his belt, attempting to pull it off. Silco was just as eager but more careful as he helped you out of your dress and underclothes. They slid off your skin smoothly as he carried you to your bed, naked as the day you were born.
After he set you down, he pulled off his clothes until he wore only his trousers. You spread your legs for him instinctively as he climbed onto the bed, caging you in with his arms as he hovered over you. But he made no further advances as his eye traced up and down your body, enjoying your nakedness underneath him. You blushed even as you reached out for his eyepatch.
He intercepted your hand as it touched the edge of his accessory, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss once again. You bit your lip, shyly nervous but determined as you said, “Silco… I wish for you to see all of me. I want you to see that I am entirely yours, in heart, soul, and body.”
Silco looked up from your hand, staring into your eyes again. You held his gaze, unwavering in your resolve. Then he let you go, slowly lifting his eyepatch off, disturbing his hair from its careful styling. He tossed it to the ground and leaned in to kiss you again. Crushing your breasts against his bare chest, the heat of his rough skin amplifying the fire already thrumming through your veins. You whimpered as he ground his hardened cock against your core, still able to feel the thick shape of it even through his clothing.
“Do you— will you do the same for me?” you asked breathlessly. Suddenly insecure that he did not want you as you wanted him, since he had not fully stripped yet.
“Do not mistake my slowness for reluctance, my lady,” he said roughly, still kissing you. “A thousand times I imagined this moment… and yet there are no words for the depths of my desire to ruin you.” He whispered that word into your ear, emphasizing it with another grind of his pelvis against you, rubbing against your bud. You whimpered as it set off a delicious spark in your core, your cunt clenching around nothing. “I must exercise restraint, or else I fear I may hurt you.”
He planted kisses down your neck, mapping his way down your chest, as if he hoped to memorize the feel of your body under his lips. When he reached your breasts, he kissed between them, sucking to leave his mark on you. Arousal stirred inside you, swirling like smoke disturbed by wind. He moved to your nipple, teasing the shape of it, curling his tongue around it. Then leaning in to suck, still flicking it heavily with his tongue. You shuddered as he cupped your other breast with one hand, propping himself up with his other arm. Gently holding it, familiarizing himself with how it rested in his palm. Then he squeezed, rolling his fingers into your flesh. Heat and excitement curling in your core, settling between your legs as your breathing grew shallow.
You rocked your hips into him, needy for more. He looked up at you as he obliged, his eyes a piercing gaze of lust, most likely mirroring your own. His hand trailed downwards, following the rise of your ribcage and fingertips dragging down your waist. Then he cupped your sex, thumb pressing lightly against your bud. The touch shot lightning through you, zipping up your spine and lighting up every nerve along the way. He rubbed it slowly, as if pushing on curling petals to help them bloom. Your breathing grew shallow and erratic, the combined attentions of his mouth and hand winding a tightness deep in your belly.
It startled you when he traced the shape of your entrance, gathering your already dripping slick on his finger. Sliding between the lips of your sex before pushing his finger inside you. Curling it against your walls, sending sparks rising, rising, rising ever higher. Your cunt clenching around him as he added another finger, reaching so deep inside you. 
The band in your core snapped, tension bursting as you came. He kept rubbing, adding a third finger in his relentless movements inside you. Having you come undone and cresting waves of pleasure, long and low as you slapped your own hands over your mouth to muffle your cries. Your walls fluttered around his fingers as he finally slowed. When he pulled them out, they were covered in your slick, slightly pruned from the wetness inside you.
Your heart hammered as he leaned in, lightly kissing your cheek to let you catch your breath. You turned to him, your nose grazing his.
“Silco…” you said softly. You raised a hand to touch him, brushing the shape of his cheek with your thumb. As if in response, he lay fully on you, his clothed cock settling against your core. But he made no further movements except to kiss your chest.
“I… I need you, Silco,” you said, huffing with want. He looked up at you with glazed eyes, clouded with lust.
“I need you too…” he admitted slowly. “But being forbidden from touching you… It is not an instinct easily overcome.”
“And yet, here we are,” you laughed softly. He lifted himself as you sat up, still hovering close to you. You held his face in your hands, cradling him gently. “I would have you take me as if you were a free man… Forget your station just this once.”
His pupils blew wide at your statement, his eyes darting between each of yours. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your face. “Are you certain? This is what you want?”
You nodded. “I— I only ask that you call me by my name, Silco.”
Still staring deep into your eyes, his mouth fell slightly open. “Can you stand?”
When you nodded again, he got off the bed, pulling you with him. He steered you gently but determinedly across the room, walking you to your standing mirror. Then he guided your hands to grip its engraved metal frame, his large hands warm as they enveloped yours, even as the mirror provided a refreshing coolness under your palms.
“Then I would have you watch me take you, as a free man,” he whispered in your ear. The sounds of him undressing were followed by the thump of his clothes hitting the floor. You could not see his nakedness as he stood behind you, but he nudged your feet with his own, adjusting your stance wider.
It was a vulnerable sight, seeing your naked self standing and leaning almost horizontal, grip tightening around the mirror. Silco slid his hands down your body to grab your hips, sending goosebumps rising on your skin. The tip of his cock teased your entrance before he finally, finally slid ever so slowly inside you. Inch by inch, your walls pushed apart before he was seated fully inside you, his pelvis resting against your backside.
He filled you perfectly, sending warm waves of pleasure radiating from your cunt, sinking you in warm bliss. A buzzing tingle cascading from your scalp to the very tips of your toes. Your panting breaths mingled with Silco’s as he shuddered, hooking his chin over your shoulder to kiss your neck.
“Can you feel me?” he asked lowly. One hand trailing from your hip to press against your lower stomach. He was solid and heavy inside you, your walls twitching around him. You whimpered, too breathless to do anything but nod.
“My lady…” he murmured into your ear. Then he stood upright again, pulling out of you before thrusting into you. His movements were slow and shallow, never leaving you empty for long, still becoming acquainted with the feel of your walls around him. A slowly climbing heat building inside you with every stroke, solidifying from a formless exhilaration into an unbearably hard knot winding tighter in your core. It was hard to stand steady, your whole body bouncing forward in time with his movements.
“P-please— Silco—” you panted in between whimpers. Your fingers curled tighter around the mirror, scrabbling for a handhold even as your senses faded to a near numbness. Only able to feel his cock sliding in and out of you repeatedly. “Say my name…”
“You misunderstand my meaning,” he said. “I mean to remind you that you are mine.”
Silco emphasized that last word with a snap of his hips, driving himself deeper than ever. You yelped as he hit something deep inside you, setting off a flare that overwhelmed you. Then his pace quickened, now plunging hard and fast into you.
“I could never let another man have you,” he panted. “You take me so well because you were meant for me— to take my cock and my seed for the rest of our lives— you are mine, and I will fill you endlessly even after your belly swells with our children—”
“M-make me yours, Silco,” you whined. You turned to look at him. Disheveled locks of his hair hanging over his eyes, his teeth bared in a feral grin, so frantic as his pace quickened and his fingernails dug deep into your flesh. “Please—!”
“You are mine—” he grunted, the smooth tenor of his voice rumbling into gravel. “To touch, to hold— to love.”
His next thrust was his deepest one yet and it had you cumming, your orgasm snapping the knot in your core as the ecstasy overtook you, freefalling into a forest fire that completely engulfed you. You slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your screams. Your walls fluttering around his cock as he mercilessly kept pounding into you. He whispered your name finally, barely audible over the slap of his hips hitting your ass. It was said lovingly even as he chased his own release.
One last slam then he came, hot and thick ropes shooting into your womb, pumping and flooding deep inside you. The warmth that enveloped you burned higher as he hugged you tightly from behind, one arm barring across your waist as he pulled you even closer to him, a deep groan reverberating through his chest into yours. His other hand pulled yours away from your mouth as he kissed you, your whining muffled by his own mouth. He kept holding you even as the tides simmered down, gentle waves still lapping up your feet to lightly graze your core. 
Your legs trembled with the effort of keeping you upright, an ache between them already beginning to bloom into soreness. Silco pulled out of you, the combined slick of your releases dripping down your leg. He paid it no mind as he picked you up to carry you to the bed. You instinctively clung to him, refusing to let go even as he sat down. The sweat trailing down his neck tickled your nose as you nuzzled into him.
“My lady… forgive my presumptuousness,” Silco said agitatedly. He attempted to lay you down, but you stubbornly held onto him. Still weakened from before but determined to never be separated from him again.
You only pulled away from him just enough to look him in the eyes, placing one hand on his cheek to steer his gaze towards you. “Silco… I will not forgive you only because there is nothing to forgive. In fact, I am the one who must apologize to you.”
“Whatever for?” he asked, puzzled.
“For being so late in returning your sentiments,” you said softly. “I love you, Silco.”
Your confession shocked him, his eyebrows rising high and eyes widening. A teal pool and a hearth of coal that you could get lost in.
He smiled so brightly at you as he whispered your name reverentially, so overjoyed at being allowed to finally say it. “I love you too.”
You smiled and could not help but laugh happily. Resting your forehead against his as you gazed at him lovingly.
“Sir knight.”
“My lady.”
He took your hand and kissed your knuckles as you laughed again. Impatient for more, you yanked your hand out of his grasp to pull him into a hug, kissing him deeply. Wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved to lay you down, pinning you underneath him, ready to make love with you again. Indulging you as often as you wanted in every way you wanted. 
There would be much more planning to do in the future. But you could enjoy yourself for now, making memories that you would cherish forever. That you were finally in the arms of the one you loved. And that nothing could stand in the way of you being together. Only finding sleep a few hours before dawn, when your knight had to sneak back to his own room lest he be discovered in your bed.
Many months later after your wedding, he walked much closer to you. Your shoulder brushing up against his and your arm linked around his elbow. Side by side as it was always meant to be.
The End
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Happy Together : 2
Small World
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Character(s): (deceptively) dark!Steve
Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. It goes without (and with) saying that this is 18+.
Series Synopsis: The reader is stood up while awaiting a blind date, instead finding herself keeping company with the restaurant’s famous owner; Steve Rogers. After that night, she tries to forget her humiliation but she just can’t shake one thing about that night: him.
Chapter Summary: The reader sees a familiar face.
Notes: For reference to setting, see the previous chapter. As for this one, I hope you have patience. Now, Witness kinda took a few chapters to get to the crux, but this one might take a little longer. ;) But I promise, it’s going to be some very fucked up Steve eventually. In advance, I thank everyone for following along and soon I will start adding to other WIPs one Witness is finished (maybe finally start that Medieval AU lol) <3
Thanks to everyone who reads and as always, I looked forward to hearing from you in the replies/reblogs/tags/asks. <3
You were annoyed that you had wasted time at that restaurant waiting on yet another unreliable and selfish man. You could’ve used the hour finishing your latest commission but instead you spent your Saturday morning on the project. You usually tried to save that day for yourself. Self-employed, you made it a priority to work at least six days a week. You were paid well enough, quite successful as it was, but you liked the security of having a little extra under your belt. Besides, it always made you anxious to think that you could be actually doing something instead of lazing around on your couch watching Netflix.
Plus, you needed the distraction from your self-pity. The humiliation lingered for a few days after and even your work couldn’t erase it entirely. Why hadn’t he come? Was it an innocent case of forgetfulness? Or maybe he had changed his mind after seeing you. Tandi had exchanged your information via Facebook and he had seen your photo the same as you had his. Perhaps he hadn’t been as pleased at the prospect. Ugh, you didn’t even know him. Just forget it!
It was Wednesday and the disappointment was still a speck at the edge of your mind. It was sunny for once, a light jacket over your blouse and jeans as you basked in the warming spring air. You walked merrily to the park, happy to be outside, refreshed almost. You found a place on one of the bench, the melody of birds and interspersed voices of people filling the flowery air. You pulled your tablet and pen from your leather tote and opened up your program, working on the outline of the geometric logo you had started the night before.
Every now and then you looked up from your work and admired the serenity nestled amidst the chaotic city. You crossed your legs, resting your tablet against your knee and continued to draw, the sunlight hugging you. A blur moved across the top of your vision and paused, looming closer and you slowly looked up. The tablet nearly slid off your knee as you spotted the man approaching you. It couldn’t be.
“Hey, it’s you,” Steve greeted, his perfect smile shining brighter than the sky. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name the other night.”
“Um, Y/N,” You answer, shading your eyes from the sun beaming over his shoulder, “You remember me?”
“A face like yours is easy to remember,” He replied coyly, “I’m Steve, by the way.”
“Yeah, I uh...know,” You admitted shyly, “Thanks again…”
“Oh, it was nothing,” He waved away the gratuity, “Do you mind if I sit?”
“Go ahead,” You shrugged, steadying your tablet across your knee.
“Are you drawing something?” He asked, your tablet half-dimmed as it threatened to lock.
“Yeah. Working actually,” You explained, clicking the sleep button and shifting the screen against your thigh. “I’m a graphic artist.”
“Ah,” He nodded, “Makes sense. It must be fun. Doing something creative like that.”
“It can be,” You answered, “I…” You paused, his eyes never leaving yours. He was so intent on you, as if no one else was in the park. How had he picked you out among the crowd? Half of New York had probably been in his restaurant. You shook away the overly paranoid questions and continued. “Depends on the job, really. I mostly just do corporate logos and designs. Can’t really get paid for what I want to draw.”
“Well, what do you like to draw?” He stretched his arm over the back of the bench, you almost didn’t notice as it slid behind you. You were sure it was just a casual gesture, a habit he didn’t give much thought to, but it felt entirely too intimate.
“Life, I guess. People, animals, trees. I just like to create scenes, not just...symbols,” You said, nervously twirling the pen between your fingers. “I prefer to paint, really.”
“Oh, yeah? Do have any of them on that thing?” He pointed to the tablet, “Anything you’re willing to show me?” You blinked as his tone caught you off-guard. He was talking about your art and yet it seemed like he meant something more. You could’ve sworn his eyes had strayed from your face for just a second. God, you were crazy. After being stood up and nearly two years by yourself, you were growing delusional.
“I might, I, um...one second,” You unlocked your tablet and saved your work. You opened your gallery and flipped through your files, settling on a quick sketch you had done of a sparrow that had built a nest outside your building. “It’s just a drawing, but, um, here.”
You handed over the tablet and he tilted it so he could see the screen, his brows lifting as his eyes ran over the lines and shadows done in monochrome, splashes of auburn here and there to give a hint of life to the sketch. “Wow, that’s really good.” He looked up, holding the tablet out to you, “You’re very talented.”
“Thanks,” You looked away shyly, “Really, it’s just a sketch. I’ve seen way better.”
“No, no, what you do is amazing. You shouldn’t compare yourself to others,” He smiled as you took the tablet, your fingers brushing his by accident. “You’re you and that makes it more than a sketch. It’s art.”
You allowed yourself a small smile. “Thank you,” You locked your tablet again and set it on your lap, resting your pen beside it.
“Well,” He slowly pulled his arm out from behind you, his warmth releasing you as he stood. “I’ll leave you to it. I’d hate to keep you from you work.” He checked his watch as he spoke, “And I’ve got to get to the restaurant for dinner service.” He looked back to you, his blue eyes searching you, considering you closely as he measured his next words, “You should definitely come back some time. You know, no date required.”
“Yeah, uh, sure,” You nodded evasively. You didn’t really want to admit that you couldn’t go back not because you were dateless but because you had bills. “It was, uh, surprising to run into you.”
“You, too,” He grinned, his golden brows twitching, “The special tonight is salmon. You should give it a try….have a good one.”
He turned away, strolling across the park and onto the street. You drew your brows together as you saw a silver car pull up and he got inside. Why would he be walking through the park if he had a town car? You shook your head and readjusted your tablet across your knee. Maybe he had just gotten out to stretch. You doubted he had gone out of his way to bug you.
-------------
You balanced the mugs, careful not to spill any of the foam as you walked between tables and found your seat by the window. Tandi was sat with her phone out, grinning at the screen like an idiot. You set her latte in front of her and cupped your own warm mug as you sat down. She finished typing and relinquished her phone on the table. She looked up at you, starry-eyed over her latest fling. Well, they’d been seeing each other for a couple months so maybe it was getting serious.
“I’m real sorry about Danny,” She said. She had arrived as you were waiting in line, grabbing a seat as you bided your time in the queue. Your mouth twitched and you looked away. The heat still rose in your cheeks whenever you thought of the painful hour spent in the restaurant. It had been more than a week.
“It’s not your fault,” You grumbled, “It was just embarrassing...I can’t believe I sat there that long. It was like everyone was staring at me.”
“I’m sure they weren’t, but it was a dick thing to do. I’ve blocked him on Snap, Facebook, and Twitter.” She smirked, “So yeah, fuck him.”
“Ha, thanks,” You scoffed, raising your mug to sip from it, the foam cooling the espresso. Your eyes wandered out the window as you leaned back in your chair.
“You know, not all guys are like that, Y/N,” She trilled, “Carson’s a nice guy and he has lots of friends.”
“I don’t want to date any of your boyfriend’s bros,” You protested, watching the passerbys through the glass. “Carson’s nice but not my type and I can’t imagine his friends are of a different cut.”
“Well, you should at least consider someone. Anyone!” She said dramatically, but before you could chuckle it caught in your throat. You swore you recognized that blonde head across the street. You couldn’t say for sure as it quickly ducked into the suit shop and you blinked as the mug in your hand wobbled. You steadied your grip and turned back to Tandi. Right, you were going crazy.
“I will. One day. But I’m fine right now. Work’s good and steady and I feel pretty good. I can do what I want when I want...Living with Mike was difficult and I didn’t even realize how much I hated it til he was gone.” You stopped yourself before you could get too emotional. “I know it’s been a long time, but I’m working on it, a little at a time.”
“I know…” She reached over and touched the back of your hand, “I just want you to be happy; healthy.”
You smiled. A genuine smile. Not the one you put on for strangers or when you were anxious. A real one and it felt good. You took another gulp and waited for Tandi to begin her usual train of gossip. She always had the messiest stories about her workplace; she was an actor and had garnered many a theatre job, enough at least to keep her studio apartment. Once she began, it was hard to stop her and your latte was drained by the time she finished.
Her phone shook the table. She flipped it over and checked the notification, her face shone. “Carson’s back from his trip,” She almost sang. You stared at her and sighed as her eyes rounded brightly.
“Go on,” You relented, “You’re free to go. I won’t keep you. Just call me when you get a chance...if you get a chance.”
“Thank you,” She stood so quickly she hit the table with her hip. She pulled on her thin trench, pulling taught the belt around her thin waist. “I love you, you know that?”
“I know. That’s why I’m letting you go,” You crossed your arm, “Just let me know you’ve arrived safely. You know I’m paranoid.”
“Sure, sure,” She leaned down to give you half-hug, “I’ll see you.”
“See you,” You patted her lower back in return, “Bye.”
You watched her go, content at least with the hour shared with her. You couldn’t expect her to put her life on hold because you had. You weren’t bitter but you mulled her words. Just because one jerk had stood you up didn’t mean they all would. Maybe not today or tomorrow or the next day, but you’d be ready to start again one day. For now, you wanted to pop into the used bookstore just across the street. You always found something interesting there.
You stepped out into the cool spring afternoon, the evening looming as a hint of rain floated in the air. You ran across the street and hopped up onto the curb, your focus solely on the book shop. You entered with a ring, the small bell above the door announcing your entrance. The storekeeper was sat at a desk stacked with book, the daily newspaper held aloft like a shield. You headed for the back shelves where vintage magazines were kept in old filing crates. You liked to use them for inspiration.
As you picked out decades-old issues, the bell jingled again but you didn’t pay much heed to the arrival of another. You continued to thumb through the magazines until you had half a dozen, content that they would last you a while. You stood and looked along the shelf, walking parallel to it slowly as you read the titles of ancient odes and medieval limericks. You stopped to pull out a collection of Wordsworth, the spine thin and worn, easily falling open in your hand.
“Excuse me,” The voice interrupted you before you could finish reading the title of the first poem. It was oddly familiar. Your lashes fluttered in disbelief, “You dropped…” Steve’s voice died and he chuckled as you turned to him slowly, “You again.”
“Uh-huh,” You mumbled warily. It had been him on the street retreating into the suit shop. That would prove he had been in the area for more than an hour but why? He held no wares from his visit to the tailor’s. Another coincidence? Surely, you weren’t that special.
“As I was saying, you dropped this,” He held up the white pen you used with your tablet. It had likely slipped out as you knelt at the crates.
“Thanks,” You accepted it and tucked it snuggly in the side pocket.
“What’s that you got there?” He asked, nodding at the book in your hand.
“Nothing,” You closed it and placed it back on the shelf. “I was just wasting time.”
“Oh yeah?” He smiled, resting his hand on the shelf as he leaned on it casually. “I just kinda stumbled in. Saw this copy of Dante’s Inferno,” He held up the painted cover which depicted an eerie cave spiralling ever downward, “My mother used to keep a copy but I never read it. Thought maybe I could give it a try.”
“Cool,” You hugged the magazines to you chest. Something about him being there at that exact moment was off. The unease was stronger than it had been at the park; his spontaneous visit had been more believable then. You tried to smile. You were being dumb. And what were you even afraid of? He used to be an Avenger. He was good guy. “I was actually just about to head--”
A clap of thunder shrouded your next words. You looked past the bookshelves as the light rain you had failed to notice through the window began to pour down in sheets. Your distress must have been plain as your lips parted slightly.
“Do you need a ride?” He asked, shaking you from your despair. You looked back to him and tried to think of something. Anything.
“I’ll catch a cab,” You shrugged him off, trying to seem unperturbed. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t waste your money. You can share my town car. He’s just outside. I’m sure you don’t live too far out of the way.” He smirked, his hand shifting along the shelf as he edged closer. You almost didn’t notice the subtle movement.
“Really, I can’t. You’ve already done enough. I really should, um, go.” You back away only to find the corner at your back.
“I won’t let you say no,” He asserted, “Come on. Just a car ride. That’s it. I mean, do you really wanna stand out in this and hail a cab?”
You stared up at him as you considered the invitation. Why were you so reluctant? He had done nothing to earn your distrust. If anything, he had only done you favours. But why? Oh, shut up brain, he wasn’t Mike. Or Danny. He actually seemed like a decent human being so why were you being so dumb?
“Okay,” You relented, “Sure. Why not.”
****
tags:  @ruff-m3rc @alexakeyloveloki @lanabanana-86 @sathlens @jessieray98 @kellyn1604 @ahideousthinginside @ironlady1993 @kloe-iel @grayxswan @iheartsebastianstan @myboyfriendgiriboy @tanelle83 @patzammit @phoenix21love @they-call-me-le @iheartsebastianstan
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Fili - Medieval Aesthetic Board &AU
requested by @xhappinessxchloex 
(sorry, it’s not exactly what you asked for)
Fili, the new Lord of House Durin, has recently inherited his father’s noble lands and titles after he succumbed to a summer plague. New to a position of duty and power, he is struggling to adjust to running a castle, with his mother, Dis, as his greatest adviser. His younger brother, Kili, is acting squire for a noble in the capital and is dearly missed by his overburdened brother, who tries not to get lost amidst his mounting obligations.
You are a servant working in the Durin castle who was with the former Lord at the moment of his death. Having lived as a child in a nunnery, you were the only domestic capable of lending some relief to the dying noble. Dis sought you out from your work in the laundries and you tended to the ailing Lord until his painful end. Now, as the young heir takes up his new seat, you return to your life of washing clothes and sweeping among the lowlier residents of the castle.
One night, you are kept from your precious hours of sleep by the head gentlewoman who doled out the duties to servants. Claiming that you had forewent the upper corridors in your daily task of sweeping, she sends you to finish the work you had already done. You grumble but take a broom, dust pan bucket, and a handful of rushes and set off with a ya,wn.
You reach the upper corridors, the castle eerily silent as most of its residents were asleep. You begin to sweep, the sound of the straw scratching across the stone nearly lulling you to dream standing up as you repeat the monotonous motion. You start a quiet hum to keep yourself awake as you gather the dirt in the dustpan and pour it into the bucket. Then, content with your work, you spread the rushes over the stone and long for the stiff comfort of your mattress.
The dull clink of metal sounds behind you and you turn to find the golden-haired lord, Fili, with a rather surprised expression upon his face. It was as if you had caught him in a forbidden act as his face blanches before settling into his usual crooked grin. As if remembering himself, he looks down and lifts the muddied sole of one of his boots to examine. His blue eyes find yours in the darkness with a guilty look.
“My apologies, my lady,” He says as he fidgets on his feet, “I was rather careless to not kick off my boots.”
“Not at all,” You hide your disappointment at your new work and near him with the broom, “You might as well do so now so I’m not sweepin’ the whole castle again…and I’m no lady.”
“Well, I would disagree,” He offers as he kicks the toes of his boots harshly against the stone wall, “A servant, perhaps, but I still see a lady before me.”
“Hmmp,” You stifle an amused laugh, “Sure, my Lord.”
You collect the muddy residue from his boots in the pan and add them to the dirt already in the bucket. You stand, noticing that he is still rather close to you and watching you with interest. His cloak is dusty and his cheeks reddened from the chill night air. You can tell he had been out riding again. So often these days, he escapes into the countryside on his horse.
“You are Y/N?” He asks, guessing correctly, “My mother told me of you. She said you were here when my father…Well, I do regret visiting the capital at such a dire time.”
“I am and I was,” You answer gently and bow your head mournfully, “His passing was long but he was happy.”
“Ever he was,” Fili smiles under a glimmer of sadness, “Just like him to die with a smile on his face.”
“I was glad to be of service to him in his last moments, but I fear I still knew little of him,” You explain as you grip the broom handle nervously, “But I did my best to help his sufferings.”
“I know it,” His sombreness begins to ebb, “I can not think why the creator would curse our fathers with early passings and our poor with graciousness, all while the rich rot with the tragedy of their greed. Tis an unfortunate world we have.”
“My lord,” You do not know what to say and so you remain silent.
“I must apologize again, I do carry on so endlessly,” He shrugs and tilts his head as intrigue sparks behind his blue eyes, “Say, it looks as if you’ve finished for the night, no thanks to me. Are you a drinker of brandy, perhaps?”
“Brandy?” You wonder if it is truly and invitation, “My lord, I was raised by nuns and servants are not allowed anything but water and sour ale, which I forego for self-preservation.”
“Oh,” He mulls your answer and his lips twitch in thought, “And baked apples? They do go so well with brandy?”
“I do, my Lord, know of baked apples,” You reply as your stomach flutters; the lord, so much like his father, was even kinder. And as you look at him in the dim light of the castle corridor, you notice he is just as handsome, “And I do enjoy them greatly.”
“Well, if you haven’t any more chores…” He begins and hooks his thumbs into his belt, “Would you like to join me for some? You can tell all the other servants of how you’ve tasted brandy. Better even, a lord’s brandy.”
“I do hope that is not some sly quip,” You reprimand playfully, “But if it is truly apples and brandy you offer, I’d be a fool to say no.”
“Ah, well then,” He offers his arm in a courtly gesture you’ve only ever witnessed from afar, “Let us be off before the gentlewoman catches us and bids you back to bed.”
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