oh, calamity
knight!luke masterlist
pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader
summary: a closer look at one of the many sleepless nights you and luke weathered together.
a/n: so..... it has been a mere 589 days since the last princess!reader knight!luke fic and im just going to ignore that. my inspiration ebbs and flows and lets just say it ebbed for a while. but as with most of my characters, these two are always in the back of my mind and it was surprisingly easy to slip back into this world!! i hope you enjoy seeing them again<3
wc: 2.6k
warning(s): hurt/comfort, parental death (may castellan), angst. throwback so theyre both 16 here
You should be asleep.
The new day is rapidly approaching, and as your parents have made you keenly aware, it is a busy one. Today was long and boring enough—you should be cherishing what few hours of respite you’ve been granted before you must greet the morrow with shining eyes and a bright smile.
But you cannot, and it does not come as much a surprise. The quality of your rest has left much to be desired since…
Well, the servants call it the incident, gauche as it is. They do their best to stay quiet around you and Luke, but you’ve got some incessant gossips on your staff. You always give them your iciest glares whenever you catch them in the act, and it seems to silence their tongues.
It’s been just over a month since May Castellan was killed while protecting your father, and the entire castle—the entire kingdom—is still feeling the aftershocks.
Everything is too quiet, too cold without her. The first time you go into town with your parents as a united royal family, you nearly tell them to hold the carriages because she’s not there. When you walk through the palace grounds past the practicing knights, you expect to hear her commanding voice echoing around the courtyard. And when you go to find Luke—
Gods, Luke.
He’s completely changed. Everyone can see it, most bear the brunt of it, but only you are able to get through to him.
He’s angrier. His edges have all sharpened, honed by his own spirit. For the first two weeks, anyone who tried to talk to him that wasn’t you or your parents either got yelled at or ignored. He softens when he’s around you, but to the outside eye, he’s impenetrable.
You can’t blame him. His mother died in a set-up—his mother died protecting your father. You’re amazed he’s still able to wake up every day, still able to walk through the halls of what feels like his mother’s tomb.
To make matters worse, you can’t even be around him as much as you want to. The ruse of a ball made it clear a traitor is in your midst, and the entire castle is on high alert. The royal family is surrounded by constant surveillance, and though you’ve always had a personal guard, you now have two knights following you everywhere you go.
Your studies have been intensified, too. Aurelda will surely declare war if the traitor is from another country, and as the crown princess, it is imperative you know how to hold your own. After all, you are the heir-apparent — while your parents are occupied in the war room, you will be the one to visit your people and assure them all is well, even if the opposite is true. A pretty smile with some honeyed words does wonders, your father tells you, and you always did have a silver tongue.
Your father acts like you’re the new hope for the kingdom of Aurelda, but as you lay atop your sheets, eyes bloodshot and head aching and mind running fully rampant, you feel more like you’re falling apart.
Then a knock sounds at your door.
You jolt up quick as lightning, your hand flying to your chest as your heart beats like a jackrabbit.
“Gods above,” you whisper. A rock through your windows would have scared you the same. You take a few seconds to calm your breathing, blink the sleep that so desperately wants to be relieved out of your eyes, before you stand.
You brush the wrinkles out of your nightgown as you walk over to your door, wondering who could possibly be awake at this hour. It could be one of your guards, but why? Were it an emergency, they would not have the decency to knock; rather, they would burst into your room unannounced and see the shambles that remained of you.
When you open the door, however, you’re staring right at Luke.
He looks just as downtrod — tangled curls, pallid skin, the same bloodshot eyes. He’s not in his armor or the nicer cotton garments his mother always insisted on; he only wears a white sleeveless top and loose linen pants.
“Princess.” Luke says it so gently, like he’s shocked that you opened the door at all. “You’re awake.”
“You knocked rather loudly,” you say wryly, but it’s mostly for show. Your heart hasn’t slowed. In fact, it feels like it could burst.
He manages a smile, though it’s a small shaky thing. “I know you. You haven’t slept a wink.”
You clear your throat. He’s always been able to read you too easily. “You clearly haven’t either.”
What little there is of a smile fades. “You know how it is.”
You do, unfortunately. You clear your throat again, trying to change the subject before you have to go too far into it. “How’d you get my guards to leave?”
He shrugs. “You might need to get some new knights. They respond very well to bribery.”
You roll your eyes. “More likely they respond well to you. They know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Luke chuckles, a bit of levity that looks almost foreign on his weary face, and you bite your lip.
“Well, you’ve already come all this way,” you say as you step away from the door. “You might as well stay for a bit.”
A flicker of something unreadable passes in an instant, and he nods as he walks inside. You close the door behind Luke, feeling oddly bare in front of him—not just because of your nightgown, but your fully transparent emotions.
“Thank you,” he says, eyes tracking you as you perch on the edge of your bed. He stays standing, looking strangely uncertain. “I— I know you have better things to do than listen to me at this hour.”
You huff. “I’d much rather talk with you than lay in bed failing to sleep for another four hours.”
Luke grimaces. “Rather early wakeup call.”
“The life of a princess,” you say. “And what awaits you in the morrow? Hopefully a later awakening than me.”
“No, actually.” Luke glances away. “I’m training with the knights at first light. I wager I’ve got another two hours, at least.”
Your eyes widen. “You’re training with the knights already? Aren’t you too young?”
“Please, princess,” he says wryly. “I was born with a sword in my hand. Besides, I…” he sighs. “I’ve got plans in place. Big ones.” He looks towards the door, his brows knitting. “Honestly, I should be getting back to the barracks anyways—”
“Since when have you slept in the barracks?” you interrupt. The Castellans have had an apartment in the palace for as long as May has been a knight, and Luke still has claim to it despite her passing, especially as a ward of the royal family. Even without all of that, your friendship ensured Luke would always be taken care of.
Now, apparently, he was living there by choice, alongside common soldiers who exchange their service for room and board.
He lets out a mirthless laugh, that unbearable shade of sadness coloring his eyes once more. “I haven’t been able to step foot in our room since it happened. It’s just a reminder that she’s not here anymore.”
“But the barracks—”
“The barracks are a reminder of my mission,” he says.
“And what is that?” you ask.
“To honor my mother’s legacy,” Luke says. “I will become a kingsguard just like her and carry on the Castellan name.” He glances at you. “Protect you the same way she protected your father.”
Your heart lodges in your throat as you stare at each other. The dark circles around his eyes match your own, a mirror of the best and worst parts of yourself. Your grief takes different avenues, but it’s threatening to destroy you both all the same.
“Luke,” you say, a bit hollow, “we’re sixteen. You don’t have—”
“I do,” he interrupts with a surprising determination. “I— I need something to do with myself, princess, otherwise I’ll drown. Alistair approves, and so does your father. There’s nothing in my way but time.”
“But…”
You try to say more, but the words lodge in your throat. What are you protesting against anyways?
Luke has wanted to be a knight since he was a child. As he got older, he claimed it was so he could always have a spot at your side—now, though, of course he wants to honor his mother. And he’s right; he needs something to occupy his mind or else he’ll lose it.
You’ve always supported Luke through all his endeavors, but as you’ve grown, the thought of Luke becoming a knight is less and less appealing.
You don’t know why, and you feel like an awful friend for it. But you can’t stop thinking up worst case scenarios—the two of you growing apart as he finds greater ambitions than standing by your side; Luke finding a nice village girl and settling down; Luke being sent off to war and returning in a box.
It makes you sick. Luke is your other half. You can’t function without him. May’s death has been one of the worst things you’ve ever had to weather, but you fear Luke’s death would send you into a depression so deep no one could pull you out of it. Even the thought alone is enough for your heart to start racing.
He’s your best friend, and you’re worried about him—you always have, and you always will. But being his best friend means supporting him despite your fears, especially fears that may prove unfounded.
“But what?” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts.
You swallow your doubts. You owe Luke that much.
“But you don’t have to stay in the barracks,” you say, hoping it’s convincing. “We can get you a new room here—whatever you need.”
“What I need is to be just another soldier,” he says. “I can’t have any special treatment if I’m trying to prove I’m one of Aurelda’s toughest knights. They don’t let just anyone on the kingsguard, you know.”
“I know,” you sighed. “But you do so much for me. I want to repay you however I can.”
Luke smiles, lighter than it has been lately. “Having you by my side is more than enough. So long as you’re there, I know I can take on anything.”
You feel heat rise in your cheeks and you glance away, unable to bite back the fullness of your smile.
“I believe I’m more than capable of that,” you say. “You’ll be Sir Luke before I know it.”
He chuckles. “And you’ll be queen before I know it.”
“Oh, please don’t say that,” you groan. “I’m trying to delay it all as much as possible— I mean, could you imagine me running this country? I’d destroy it.”
“You absolutely wouldn’t,” Luke insists. “You’re brilliant, princess. Kind-hearted, caring, whip-smart with an equally sharp wit. Not to mention our people adore you.”
You shake your head with a sigh. “I know it is my duty, but I truly cannot see myself taking the throne. It is one of the reasons I pray every day for my parents’ good health.”
“Well, it seems we both have dreams to follow,” he says. “And if you’re to stay by my side as I follow mine, it is only fair I repay you in kind.”
“Being queen isn’t my dream,” you say.
Luke tilts his head. “Then what is?”
When you try to respond, no words come out. It makes you realize you don’t have the slightest idea.
You’ve known from a very young age that your life, your future, is not your own. You come from a long line of royalty, and as the sole heir to the throne, it is your responsibility to carry on such a name. You will become queen one day, though you hope it is a day very far into the future, and once you do, you will have to lead your people through peace, war, harvests, famine—though your parents and advisors hope your reign will bring about a golden age.
And you will be expected to marry. Likely a prince from another kingdom to strengthen Aurelda’s alliances. The thought scares you—terrifies you. Just because you know what is expected of you does not make it weigh any less heavily on you.
As you meet Luke’s gaze once again, a rare vulnerability sparking in your eyes, you swallow your doubts once more.
“That whatever I end up doing, wherever I end up going, we’ll still be together.”
Luke, steadfast as always, actually grins.
“Why do you think I’m trying to become part of the kingsguard?” he asks. “If I’m charged with protecting the royal family, then it becomes my duty to ensure we stay together.”
You chuckle. “How are you always so sure?”
He shrugs. “It’s easy when it comes to you.”
You start to smile, but instead you cover your mouth with your hand as you yawn. Sleep is finally trying to claim you, it seems.
“You’re exhausted,” Luke says. “I should go back.”
“No,” you say, muffled in the midst of your yawn, but you stand and reach out once it’s over. “No— stay.”
His eyebrows rise. “We haven’t got much time until first light. I’m surprised your guards haven’t already come in to kick me out.”
“It’s more selfish than anything,” you admit. “I— I haven’t been able to sleep, and I fear that when you leave, it will just be the same again.”
Luke pauses. He’s here for the same reason, you know it—you just hope you’re not being too presumptuous by asking him to stay.
“I know you’ve been having the same problems,” you say quietly. “I thought it might help us both get some sleep before we take on the day. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I just—”
“Of course I’ll stay,” he murmurs. “You’ll just have to make some space in that tiny bed of yours.”
You try to hide how relieved you are with a laugh, but it comes out more breathy than anything. Your four poster bed is fit for a queen, and it makes you feel a little embarrassed compared to the cots in the barracks.
You extinguish the candles you’d lit during your conversations, then pull back the sheets and get it on one side. Luke is more hesitant despite his reassurances just seconds ago—you smile
“It’s okay,” you say. “There’s more than enough room to have more than enough space. You’re still being perfectly proper.”
He rolls his eyes as he gets in beside you, but whatever snarky remark he had prepared falls out of the chamber.
“Quite comfortable,” he says casually. “At least we never have to worry about our leaders getting bad backs.”
This time, you roll your eyes. “You repay my kindness with sarcasm.”
“If you want me by your side, you’ll have to deal with it,” Luke says.
“I suppose I can manage,” you say airily. “Now be quiet, or else we’ll never fall asleep."
“My princess’s wish is my command.” You can hear the smile in his words, and it warms you from the inside out.
You lay there together in silence, backs to each other but all too aware of his presence. Luke’s steady breaths are enough to lull you to sleep alone, but beneath the covers, his body heat practically envelopes you. He’s always been a walking fireplace.
It’s incredible how quickly sleep finds you with Luke beside you, especially after a near month of restless nights and horrific dreams. (He really is the best part of you.)
You’ve all but drifted away when you hear his voice, little more than a whisper.
“Princess?”
You hum in response, barely conscious. Luke hesitates for a moment—you swear you can hear his heartbeat in the silence.
“Thank you.”
You don’t know if you manage to respond before you fully nod off.
But for the first time since May Castellan’s death, if only for a few hours before they must return to their respective duties, the crown princess and her loyal knight sleep soundly.
