Limiting the choice to the shows and movies I have seen/know of. I'm not asking who the first actor you have seem playing Arthur was, rather the one you instinctively think about when someone mentions him or the one closest to your heart.
One thing I will never understood is this weird mentality where people keep talking about that one mistake Character A but ignoring every bad thing Character B did and B is actually the worse one. This weird take "A did this to C and that's why C should have been with B"
Killian and Emma had a bad realtionship at the begining and both of them betray each other, but let's ignor their characters' development and instead scream how she should have ended up with her groomer
When Ron was 12 he was rude to Hermione and that's why their relationship is bad, let ship her with her bully
Arthur didn't know the sword Nimue was carring was that important, yes it created some problems, let's ignor how he spent the rest of the show fighting for druid and ship her with a guy that spent the whole season trying to kill her (in this case the fandom was simple rasist)
Mal and Alina are bad a communicating (they are 17, stress out, everything is pulling them apart, and again they are 17) let's call them toxic and be mad she didn't chose the 400+ guy that SA more than once
This is just another show added to my PTSD influenced attachment of magic based shows😭. For real though I mentioned before how when it came to reading new manga I had PTSD due to many series I really liked being cancelled. Similarly Magic shows I've been liking over the yrs have been getting cancelled or not enough seasons 😵💫. Reason that sucks is because magic & Sci-fi shows are my two sought after live action shows
Shows like these two I feel had conclusions at least but still overall left me with the feeling another season thrown within the show could've made it feel not so rushed & condensed
These more specifically have all been cancelled shows I really liked and would've wanted more .
Not finishing magic shows should be treated as treason and companies should be punished for it 😭. Folks gotta make it a law that minimally 4 seasons are needed if you're doing a high fantasy show 💯
Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.
Chapter Title: A Shared Secret.
Notes: Re-reading these first chapters makes me realize how deep this story truly grew.
You had wiped the blood from your nose with your sleeve, the dull pain remained. You sat motionless on the wagon, wrists bound together, mind withdrawn inside itself and blocking out all else. There was not a person around who cared about what happened to you and now even Cassian considered you fully expendable. They brought you to their camp and the whole journey you could see Father Carden ride beside the Monk, they were conversing with each other. How could he have kept his Fey nature a secret for so long, or did they perhaps know? The sun had gone down by the time the wagon came to a halt at the camp, the Monk dismounted his horse and came to the wagon. He had beckoned for you to climb off, you had failed to notice it. One of the paladins had wanted to grab your arm, the unexpected action caused you to flinch.
“No.” The Monk told the paladin.
The paladin got off of the wagon and out of the Monk’s cross hair. The Monk beckoned for you again, this time you saw it and got down from the wagon. The one thing distracting you from the tormenting emptiness that was suffocating your mind was the fact that the Monk wasn’t dragging you along like Cassian had done. He did have a firm hold on your arm, but he wasn’t trying to intentionally bruise your skin. He brought you to Father Carden.
The priest spoke to him first, “She will reside in your tent. No one else can learn of what she is. No one. Do what I have asked of you, my son.”
“Yes, Father.” The Monk obeyed the order and led you away from the priest. He ordered two paladins to follow and made them wait outside his tent when he walked inside with you.
“You are to stay here,” he said, whilst tying another rope to the one around your wrists. Then he led you to one of the two poles in the midst of the tent and forced you to sit down against it. “Your fate is yet to be decided by Father. For now, do as you are told and you will not be harmed. Ignore my warning and suffer the consequences. Understood?”
You weren’t paying much attention, even looking off to the side as you nodded. He knelt down next to you, and it took you a while before you realized he was waiting for you to look at him. Your blank expression never changed as you faced him.
Eyes that were elsewhere. A look he had seen in those who had abandoned all hope.
The Monk looked down at his hands and laid out the terms, “You are not to wear clothes of the Church. Not these and not until you would earn them. You will be given others, and when I return I will ask you questions you need to answer. Think wisely.”
No response came from you. Everything felt so far away past the thick mist that had taken over your thoughts. He sensed that you were in no state to reply, he stood up and left the tent. You faintly heard him command the paladins to guard the tent while he was gone for a moment. It did not take long for him to return, in his hands he carried what looked like clothing, he put it down next to you. You slowly blinked, your mind started to return to the present.
“What is your name?” he asked his first question.
You told him without protest, “Y/n.”
The Monk folded his hands together behind his back. “You knew what I was, you could have told others. Have you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
You didn’t bother to lie, there was no point to it anymore. “You would have killed me if I did tell someone.”
He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Tell me about Cassian.”
“He’s my brother.”
“Half-brother, yes?”
“Yes.” You nodded. “He is the son of my father and his first wife. My father married my mother after Cassian’s mother died. Mine died very shortly after she gave birth to me.”
The Monk was clearly trying to piece the puzzle that was you together. “Your half-brother is Manblood.”
You leaned your head back against the pole. “Yes. It was my mother who was Fey. Our father is Manblood.”
“Are there others like you still alive?” he asked.
You frowned a little. “I don’t know. You are the only one that I have met.”
The Monk stopped his questions and a heavy silence fell between you.
You broke it, “What’s going to happen to me?”
He was bluntly honest about it. “Father will need to know that you were worth letting the sellsword escape for.”
“I’m not.” It just fell out of your mouth.
He looked at you for the longest time, as if he were trying to see if it was a jest.
It was not.
“You are born of a Fey mother.” he said. “Are there any uncommon abilities you possess?”
“I try to ignore the Feyblood in me.” you told him. “You must know what that is like.”
Maybe he could relate to that, because he sure was not walking around announcing it to everyone either.
His tone grew cold right away. “I am not your people.”
It was said so condescendingly… your own voice did not change from the neutral tone it currently had. “No. You’re the monster keeping their children awake at night.”
The Monk directed his eyes away from you. He turned away without granting you one more look and left the tent.
~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~
An hour must have passed before he returned to the tent. The air grew uncomfortable right away. Neither of you said a word to each other. The Monk took of the belts that held his weapons and placed them against the cot in the far corner of the tent. His eyes fell on the clothes that still laid untouched next to you, he must have forgotten all about them after storming out earlier.
The Monk sighed at the unavoidable obstacle. “I will remove your ropes just long enough for you to change your clothing. Do not try to attack me or escape, I will not be forgiving.”
Your thoughts cleared a little bit more. Did he expect you to change while he was in the tent with you?!? He came closer and started to loosen the ropes, when that was done he pulled you up to your feet and gestured to the clothes on the ground.
“No.” you breathed out.
There was a brief moment of irritation to be spotted in his eyes, until he appeared to understand what had caused the protest. He turned around, facing away. “Father ordered for those clothes to be taken away from you. Change out of them.”
Was it your imagination or did he sound uncomfortable? When he kept his attention away, you surrendered to the request. First you inspected the new clothes. It was a simple dress, nothing special. You kept looking at the Monk as you changed into the clothes, he never turned to look. The ring still hanged on a cord around your neck, you doubted it could buy your freedom here, so you hid it under the dress.
“Why am I to stay in your tent?” You rolled the sleeves down neatly.
“Father has told the paladins that you are Sky Folk.” Slowly he turned, eyes rising from the ground. “But you are a risk. If anyone else sees your markings-”
You blurted out your conclusion, interrupting him, “They would know that you are Fey too…”
That was why Father Carden only trusted the Monk to be in your presence, if the paladins saw your markings and how they resembled the Monk’s…
He stepped closer, not afraid to stand only one step away. “No one can know.”
“The paladins don’t know?” You frowned.
“They do not.” His eyes fell lower. “What do you have around your neck?”
By reflex you looked down, then realized he must have noticed the cord peeking out from under the dress. You reluctantly pulled it out from under it to show him. He recognized it instantly.
“No weapons?” he asked, probably realizing that you were never even inspected for them.
You shook your head. “No.”
Either he would search you for them, or trust your word. He was determining whether or not you were telling the truth, then he gave a nod.
The Monk began to circle you. “Do you have children?”
“None.” You wondered why he had so many questions.
“A spouse?”
“No.”
“Other family?”
“Only my father and Cassian.”
“Do you believe in the faith of the Fey, or the Church?”
“Neither. I think.”
His questions were sometimes tricky, you feared what a wrong answer could result into.
He took hold of your arm and brought you back to the pole, making you sit against it to tie you to it again. “If you must relieve yourself, warn me or my Brothers and you will be given the chance for it.”
That sure was embarrassing, but you doubted he hadn’t encountered worse. At least you wouldn’t have to ruin your clothes if your bladder ran full, but you doubted that would happen soon, you hadn’t drank a drop in almost a day. He had already walked towards the cot when you spoke up.
“Could I have some water?” It wasn’t like you to ask for a favor, but the dry throat was bothersome.
He looked at you, giving a shallow nod. He was at your side with a flask of water not much later, at least he was helping you drink because you would have died from thirst due to being bound to a pole.
“Thank you.” you said.
His brow quirked up somewhat, he stayed next to you for a moment, knelt down in silence. You could tell that he was thinking of saying something.
He finally did. “As you see, I am not held a prisoner here. This could be your future as well.” The comfort he tried to give was unexpected. “Grant us your cooperation and I shall make certain you will be treated well here.”
Why did it sound like an alluring offer? You looked away, feeling the guilt start to gnaw at your being deep down for wanting to belong somewhere.
“Think of it tonight.” The Monk must have seen the conflict in you.
You kept your eyes away from his, he stood up and walked to the cot.
He took his cloak off to sleep. “You were fortunate to not be influenced by the Fey. Your soul is at a crossroad and you have yet to decide what path you take.”
When he took off his surcoat, you shut your eyes.
“Tomorrow we shall see if there is a place for you here.”
~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~
It was hard to fall asleep in such a strange place, and it was uncomfortable to do so while bound. Still, at dawn you woke up at the sound of the Monk picking up his weapons and putting the belts on again.
“We are heading into the forest today.” he said upon seeing you awake.
“Why?” You feared the answer.
He cloaked the reason in mystery. “I will tell you when we are there.”
The Monk freed you from the pole but kept your wrists bound in the rope, he used the excess of it to keep you near and within his sight. Together you walked out of the tent and he grabbed some things to eat from a table in the midst of the camp. Some bread, an apple… Once you were out of the camp he handed you the bread to eat. He just kept walking, never saying where you were going whilst entering the forest. You chewed the bread and your stomach was grateful for it. It took nearly an hour before he came to a halt. The bread was long since eaten.
“There are Fey in these woods. My brothers have captured two.” he said. “Find them.”
Your brows drew together. “What?”
The Monk turned to you. “Prove your usefulness to the mission and earn your place among us.”
“You want me to search this whole forest for them?” you asked incredulous.
He gave a suggestion, “Let your Fey heritage aid you in this task.”
How could that be helpful? “What do you mean?”
The Monk spoke with caution, “Can you not smell them?”
“What?” You stared at him. “Am I supposed to find them by their scent?”
He looked like it was exactly what he had anticipated. “Yes.”
This was ridiculous, you didn’t understand why he would think you had such an ability. “I can’t smell them. All I smell is leaves and grass!”
“You can’t?” He looked at you curiously.
“No.” you told him. “And even if I could, why would I lead you to them?”
Then he gave the motivation that was necessary, “Because I will free them from their bounds if you do.”
You weren’t keen on believing it. “Why would I trust your word on that?”
He fired back, “Would you prefer them to be cleansed?”
That sure made you hold your tongue.
“Find them.” he said again after a moment.
The chances of finding two Fey in these woods were slim, but if he insisted on wasting his own time on this as well… Fine.
You began to walk again, he held the other end of the rope firm in his hands. By using what little tracking skill you had picked up during your life, you still struggled severely to find any trace. Time was passing quickly and you were growing discouraged. If you didn’t find those Fey…
“I can smell them from here.” he suddenly said as he saw you struggle.
You had been kneeling on the ground to find tracks, your attention snapped to him. “What?”
“The scent of Fey kind. Have you never noticed it yourself?” He was still looking at you with curiosity.
“No. Can you really smell them?” You frowned and stood up from the ground.
He gave a nod. “Your Fey scent is so faint I did not know at first that it was there, not until I noticed it at the abbey.”
It must be because you were only a half-blooded Fey, or because you had grown weaker lately. Maybe the day spend at the abbey with a proper meal had made your scent stronger again. Still, it was a surprise that the Monk possessed this ability, was it the Ash Folk-blood in him?
“You thought I could smell it too?” you realized.
Another nod.
“I can’t!” It felt so terribly unfair that you were expected to find the Fey without the advantage he thought you had.
“Stop.” He had taken hold of your arm. “Concentrate on your senses.”
Guilt over being unable to save the Fey was taking over. “I can’t do this! I’m not like you.”
He turned you around, back facing him, his hands on your upper arms. “You cannot know this until you try.”
Those haunting whispers sounded almost delighted in your ears, it greatly confused you as to why that was.
The Monk held on to your arms and used a gentler tone. “Concentrate.”
You closed your eyes and tried, it wasn’t simple to ignore his presence to focus on the scents around you. It took a while, and then it happened. A vague strange scent that prickled deep inside your nose, your head turned in it’s direction by instinct. Your eyes opened and you could see in those of the Monk that he knew you had noticed the scent. You began to walk again, letting your nose lead you to the origin of it. Suddenly the scent was harder to detect.
“The wind has changed it’s course.” The Monk said when he saw you struggle.
Left without the scent to follow, you searched the ground for tracks again and this time found a bunch of them. You followed the tracks and hoped they would lead you to the Fey. And then you saw them, gagged and bound, their eyes were covered by a blindfold. You wanted to hurry over to them but the rope between you and the Monk tightened as he did not budge.
“You promised you were going to let them free!” You pulled at the rope.
He reeled you in with the rope, drawing you closer until he could grab your bound wrists. “On one more condition.”
You glared at him for adding another requirement, snapping at him, “What?”
He made certain that the terms were clear. “I will let them live, now and every time I encounter them, in exchange for your loyalty to the mission.”
You were stunned by it, and worried.
“They can live their life and you will be given another one. A fair trade.” he reasoned.
“I don’t want to kill Fey…” you uttered.
The Monk pondered on it for a blink. “I am certain that Father will see your value as a tracker alone. The paladins will handle the rest.”
You were quiet for quite some time.
He was persuasive. “A meal every day, a place to sleep, the help of others. All these things will be yours. You will not be expected to fulfill a task right away, there are still matters that need to be taught to you.”
“No…” you barely dared to say it.
The Monk was disappointed, tone turning cold, “Some more time to think will aid you in this decision.”
Suddenly he began to walk and pulled you along, he stopped next to the bound Feys and drew his sword.
You panicked. “No! Please don’t hurt them!”
He ignored you and cut loose their ropes, they moved the blindfolds down from their eyes so they could see.
“Run.” he told them.
They scrambled to their feet and bolted away from the threat. You stared at the Monk.
“They will be fortunate if I do not cross paths with them in the future.” he said coolly, then pulled at the rope to make you follow as he walked away.
Minutes of silence passed. It felt highly uncomfortable and you didn’t know what your future held now that you had refused to aid the mission.
You tried to distract yourself from worrying by asking him a question, “How did you end up with the paladins?”
He answered without stopping. “I’ve been with them all my life.”
That was odd. “Were your parents of the Church then?”
“No.” Was the short answer he gave.
It had gotten you curious. “Then how can you have been with them all your life?”
He reeled the rope in a little more, making you walk closer to him. “Father chose me when I was just a boy, not yet six years of age.”
The priest had chosen a young child years ago, to turn the boy into a weapon against his own kind? It was shocking. “He chose you? What happened to your family?”
“Gone.” he said.
“Gone where- …oh.” You wished you could take it back. There had been a hope in you to learn that more of the Ash Folk were still alive, but if the priest did not even spare the parents of the child he took from them…
“I’m sorry, I -”
He ignored the apology. “You are the first Ash Folk I have seen since that day. As far as I know, there are no others left.”
“And that is why Father Carden has shown an interest in me?” you asked.
“Yes.”
Now that he was willing to answer questions, you fired them off one after the other. “Because he saw how good your work is, and hopes that another of the Ash Folk will be just as efficient?”
There was a short pause before he answered with a nod. Then he asked a question of his own, “How come your brother did not know of your Feyblood? Or was that another lie?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “You saw what happened once he knew.”
The Monk had reeled the rope in so much that you had to walk next to him. “Your nose was bleeding when he brought you to us.”
Your voice quietened, “He hit me when I tried to pull free from him.”
“He is quite a coward, for a sellsword.” it slipped from his thoughts.
You went silent for a bit, the betrayal was still so raw. The paladin camp came into sight again. “I wonder if my father knows where I am now.”
The Monk actually scoffed, then looked at you incredulous, “Are you saying the sellsword would lie to his father about what he has done?”
Your shoulder shrugged again.
“Do not concern yourself over him anymore. You are under my charge as long as Father commands it.” he told.
“Like property.” It came out coolly.
He saw it differently. “As one valuable enough not to harm.”
You didn’t believe that, not one bit, not when the world had taught you otherwise. “I am only valuable if I serve the Church, if I serve you. Don’t tell me it’s not true, I know it is. If I had not been of the Ash Folk you would have killed me just like you killed Bertram and Ava.”
He heard that hidden anger present in you and stopped before he’d get too close to the camp. “Who?”
“How many have you killed who’s name you don’t even know?” You frowned heavily.
The Monk tried to speak, but was interrupted by you.
Your voice lifted, “The Fey who were with me and Cassian that night. You murdered them!”
“They were thieves.” he sounded not even a little remorseful.
“So was I!” you snapped. “But you kept me alive because I happened to smell like Manblood! And they didn’t deserve to die just because they stole something! You and your paladins lay waste to whole Fey villages and then ransack what’s left of it! You’re worse than any thief I’ve ever met!”
Your fury turned to fear instantly when he grabbed you by the throat. His hold was firm but not painful, you still feared to move.
His voice got lower. “They were Fey. They needed to be cleansed for their souls to be allowed to enter God’s garden.”
“Who says they even wanted to enter it at all?” you asked viciously. “Does telling yourself these lies help you sleep at night?”
Was he truly so blind to the wrongs he and the Church were committing all across the lands? Something flashed through his eyes, until they spotted the two paladins approaching him.
“Sir?” one of them called out.
The Monk grabbed you by the arm and pulled you along, he practically shoved you into their hands. “Bring her to my tent!”
“Yes… s-s- Sir.” The other stammered in visible fear.
The Monk stormed off, leaving you in the hands of his Brothers.
