Summary: The dread of not knowing your father’s burden comes crashes down.
A/N: So the battle between my OC and ‘You’ has been fought. And ‘You’ won! Check out my ao3 for any more news about this story, and I did change my character Robert to Paz since I just realized the opportunity I could’ve seized.
Chapter One
You found him by the back after the joust, where the castle’s stables were. Your own horse, and beautiful brown mare you named Henry, was next to his, picking at the hay below his feet.
The lily sat idly by your ear, tangled in your locks. Secretly, you hoped the flower had come from Din, though—logically—you knew it couldn’t have come from him.
He was gently cleaning his horse off, brushing it’s mane and cooing softly to it. The moment was too intimate and you would’ve turned around had he not caught you.
“No matter where I turn, you are always right there, in my shadow.” He sighed.
You smiled and looked down at your feet, careful of the pretty flower and lifting the hems of your dress to walk closer to your horse, stroking his nose.
Din watched you carefully, stiff and unyielding. You took no offense to it now.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose,” you said. “Maybe one day you can teach me.”
“To fight?” Din scoffed, turning back to the white mare. “I didn’t think you to be the type.”
Now you were the one to scoff. “And why is that, hm? Because I am a woman? Women can fight too, you know.”
“I know. And I would never think that, Princess. It’s just…”
You waited patiently, keeping your attention on Henry so you wouldn’t scare him—the man in the heavy armor that is.
“I do not think your father would appreciate it,” he finally answered. “This kingdom needs a queen, and—”
“Spare me,” you stopped him. “Just tell me the truth.”
Din sighed heavily again. He did that a lot.
“Your father… has made it known. It is too dangerous and he’d rather you stay away from the likes of war.”
You closed your eyes in frustration. Of course it would be your father.
“It isn’t his business,” you snapped. “And I’ll have you know that I can do whatever the hell I please, so I don’t need my father’s permission to wield a sword, Knight.”
Din tilted his head, taken aback by your sudden outburst. Before you could make any sort of apology—like you were taught to—he stifled a chuckle.
And it was so small but it radiated like a thousand suns. A thousand suns, blaring bright and proud in this little moment of serenity. You found herself smiling, chuckling and shaking your head at him.
“Some days it’s hard to believe you’re a princess. You hardly act like it.” He noted.
You giggled. “You’re not the first to inform me of this,” you said. “And soon enough it will be ‘Queen’.”
“I’m sure you will be a fine one.”
You blushed, turning your face away to cover it. But it quickly turned into a sigh, stepping away from your beloved horse.
“I’m not sure that’s entirely what I want.”
It was the first time you said it to someone who wasn’t Jules. It slipped out hesitantly, but once the words left you felt better, lighter even. And you trusted Din, not only with your secrets but with your life as well.
You saw him visibly tense from your peripheral vision. It confused you, but you guessed he was just looking out for you—as he never failed to do—making sure no wandering ears heard your declaration.
Din cleared his throat, making you fully turn to him. He wasn’t looking at you, still trained on his horse, but he had stopped petting him and had a hunch to his form, like he was bearing more than just the weight of his attire.
“I do not think it is wise to say such things so loudly.”
He said your name, and it made your stomach drop at the warning held behind it.
“What —” You cleared your throat to swallow down the lump. “What are you not telling me, Din?”
Before he could say anymore, an echoed voice called out.
“Of course,” Paz sneered. “The magnificent Din Djarin, the Princess’s little bitch, playing idly while —”
He stopped when he saw you. You smirked inwardly when you saw the way his body stiffened, like he had just been struck by a sword, and imagined he looked just as horrified as he felt.
“P-princess.” The appointer stuttered. “My apologies, m'lady. I did not realize you were here.”
“Clearly.” You spat out, chin tilted up. “But please, don’t stop at my expense. Finish what you were going to say.”
Paz was becoming uncomfortable and you reveled in it. Din, however, just seemed as though he wanted the whole thing done and over with so he could move on with his day; you didn’t blame him.
“Go.” You finally ordered. “And do not speak to my guard that way again. Perhaps your silence is more of use to me than your sword.”
He stammered, clearly embarrassed, and prodded away with careful steps.
You and Din relaxed at the same moment, but now without a word to say to each other. The silence, although, was quite comfortable between you and it felt nice, being able to share it with someone. You suspected Din must have felt the same way, or least appreciated your understanding of his silent personality.
“What is the deal between the two of you?” You broke the silence.
He grunted softly, giving you a small, careless shrug. “Childish rivarily, one that I do not particularly care for.”
You hummed, picking at a tiny piece of string of the seam of your gown. “Well, if he continues on, be sure to tell me.”
The armor creaked, background noise to you at that point, as he fully turned towards you, arms hanging like boards at his sides.
“I can take care of it.” It wasn’t threatening, nor frustrated; just a simple fact.
“I know.”
He was going to say something else. Your ears perked for it, but another voice—lest wasn’t Paz—tried to entice the void.
“Princess!” Jules called out. “You're needed by your father at once, the food is ready to be served.”
You grimaced. Your father had terrible timing.
“Okay.” You murmured, not even sure if she would be able to hear you.
“Are you going to eat as well?” You asked Din.
Din shuffled on his feet. “Not yet. Have duties to attend to.”
You smiled softly. “Well, for my sake Din, try the new sauce. I think you’ll like it.”
He gave you a small bow with the tilt of his head as you walked by, brushing against him as you did. You only walked just a short way before stopping, turning your head.
“May I ask you a question?”
He nodded.
“Don’t suppose you know the kind person who gifted me this flower?” You asked lightly, giving yourself a mental pat at the ability to hide the shyness from your voice. “It was left on my seat before the joust, and I would like to give them a proper thanks.”
“I’m afraid not.” He put out quickly.
Your excited heart sank, but your expression remained neutral.
“Shame,” you whispered. “Such a lovely flower.”
You walked further away without another glance. You weren’t trying to be rude, you really weren’t, but you didn’t think you had it in you to hide your disappointment; you hated the fact that you had more of a difficult time with Din than anyone else.
Jules did not say anything as she walked by your side. You were grateful for that; your thoughts too scrambled to form a conversation.
Why are you so disappointed? You had to have known the flower wasn’t from him. You knew it was dangerous to exploit your dislike of being tied down to the royal rule. You—
It continued on and you wanted to scream.
Maybe you should, let the whole damn world hear you stupid scream over a silly little crush.
You were seated by the time you crawled out of your thoughts. Your father made a face at you, wondering with his eyes of the mood you were currently in. You just gave him a one sided shrug and a forced smile.
The food was delicious. That was something—even lost in your own head—couldn’t deny nor ignore. Especially when you caught eyes with Peter, smiling with glee at the reactions to his sacred art.
“This is exquisite!” Your father exclaimed, just loudly enough so Peter could hear as well.
“It is.” You agreed. “We’ll have to have more of it.”
Your father's words blurred into the background again, and you shoved a mouthful of pudding into your mouth when you looked up and spotted him.
Oh Lord. What is he doing here?
Gerald was part of Colestead’s line of fearless Knights, one that used to remind you of that of a wolf when you watched the rare and few times he participated in any fight of entertainment.
But despite his ruthless combat skills, it didn’t show in the way he spoke—all soft, kind natured, at least towards you.
And his presence here, as he leaned towards Din, who had just walked through the threshold of your hall, brought you back to the ship you saw earlier and your father’s words echoed in your head. Your chest tightened as the anxiety—unknown and abrupt to you, the sudden fear behind it that made the room spin—clawed at you.
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
Do not cause a scene. Do not do anything stupid.
You took a deep breath as you tried to calm yourself. Bringham must have noticed your stance, because he followed your sight until he stiffened. It went away as soon as it appeared, and he took a big swig from his cup.
“I’m not going to say a word about it.” You assured lowly and quickly.
He exhaled deeply through his nose, nostrils flaring slightly. But he looked on solemn towards his people, and turned his head to you with understanding in his eyes.
“You will know. I’ve promised you this before, and have every intention of keeping to it, love.”
You gave him a tired smile and his shoulder a playful pat. You forced your eyes to stay ahead or to the left, but never to the right where that man stood. If you wanted to make it through the last of the festivities without a trick, then you had to do anything to keep your mind distracted.
Which is why you called Victoria, a pretty young girl around your age, to your seat with a wide smile.
Victoria was a very beautiful woman; strawberry blonde hair, just slightly longer than yours, hazel eyes and a wicked curve to her grin. It certainly matched her soul.
Now you never really liked her as a friend, but there were moments where you could hold a decent conversation without wanting to tear her head off. You prayed this would be one of them.
And she happened to be the daughter of your father’s precious friend.
“Oh,” she said your name, sweetlike. “Such a beautiful day to celebrate! And where is that lovely maiden of yours?”
Jules did not like her either. You wouldn’t put her through that, and besides, you had no idea on where your friend could be; she soon disappeared just shortly after you were seated.
“Not sure I’m afraid.” You clicked. “But I’ll tell her you said hi.”
Jules would get a kick out of it.
She hummed, then looked over to that dreadful right, making your eyes twitched.
“Between you and I,” she said before leaning down to whisper, “I like the White Knight.”
Din. Of course.
“You are aware that’s my guard you’re talking about.” You grumbled.
She giggled. “What do you think I’m going to do, Princess? Seduce your little knight away? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Ridiculous? Perhaps. But more likely to be tried? Positively.
“You’re right. So silly of me.”
Bringham suddenly stood up, clearing his throat and tapping on his mug with a silver spoon. The crowd started to silence themselves as their king awaited patiently, and Victoria gave you a sly wink before slinking back to her seat.
“Riverhearth has never looked as lively as it does now!”
There were cheers echoed across the hall, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread your cheeks.
“Enjoy this feast… this moment now. Remember the happy faces and tears of joy you see around yourselves tonight, and keep a tight hold on them, so that they may never fall into darkness.”
They continued to cheer, mouthing praises and going back to their meals as their king, your father, sat down.
Your father, whose eyes looked more aged than they did that morning. Who looked so much older than he should, holding the weight of whatever secret he was withholding from you.
And that blood on your fingers, remember those?
The rest of the feast went by quickly afterwards. You were quick to send hugs and waves as everyone settled off to their homes. Bringham escorted you to your room himself, yapping away about fairy tales as you listened; he was drunk again. Perfect for you.
You waited until midnight hit, and everything was quiet. You put on a small coat and very slowly creaked your bedroom door open, sticking your head out to make sure there were no one around.
The tiptoes around the halls made you think back to that night, and how quiet he was too to sneak up on you like that. Maybe you were too drunk to notice at the time, but either way there appeared to be no guard in sight.
“Princess.”
You spoke too soon.
With a roll of your eyes you turned around to face Din, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Knight.”
“Not surprised to see you about at this time. Again.”
You stifled a smile at the slight irritation in his voice. “Yes. And are you going to drag me back to my room? Again.”
He huffed, shaking his head as he stalked towards you. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I have no quarrels with either.”
Your hard, tough stance faltered and he caught it. “I—.”
“What’s the problem with me wandering around my own home.” You interjected. “And besides, I have… important matters to attend to.”
You berrated yourself for not coming up with a better ploy, but it was too late to take back and Din was still walking towards you.
“Please.” You pleaded quietly. “Please just let me—I just want to—I saw him talking to you.”
His heavy puff told you that he knew exactly who you were talking about. You prepared yourself for another argument. The seconds, possibly even minutes that passed by fed into the clawing in your chest, the hard grasp to your heart. You closed your eyes and counted your breaths as you slowly inhaled and exhaled.
“You will not speak of this to anyone. Not even Jules. Do you understand?”
He caught you off guard. Your arms fell loosely by your sides, your expression falling and the rest of your wait breath escaping you with a puff.
“Okay.” You nodded eagerly. “I promise.”
Din hovered his arm over your shoulder, leading you back to your room.
“What—.”
“Not out here.” He shushed.
You walked the rest of the way with another held breath, and you refused to release it until you heard your bedroom door close behind him.
“There have been… rumors,” Din started. “Wars. Death. Magic even. There are—there is something coming, and Bringham—he’s enlisting Colestead’s aid in the matter, before we’re left defenseless.”
Sit. You have to sit down.
You padded around behind you until you felt the wood of your headboard against your skin, and sat down on the edge of your bed.
“Okay.” You whispered. “So—so that means—.”
You weren’t stupid. You were on good terms with Colestead, no problem at all with aid, but you weren’t stupid. You knew what this entitled, or what it could.
“Yes.” Din confirmed, apologetically even. “James will arrive tomorrow at noon. And they’re—there’s—”
You held up a hand, effectively silencing him. He couldn’t say it, not wanting to push you further over the cliff you were dangerously hanging low from.
