#sir hereward

[winter-wise]

Garth Nix short stories are great because it's always something like "the himbo knight needs to sleep with the cannibal catgirl pirate captain for the sake of The Plan. they are now fighting monster starfish. the dead starfish chunks are forming into a gigantic kaiju. oh, and what is Wizard Pinocchio doing? don't worry about it ;) [distant explosion]"

[miktures]

Mid-Summer Week Day Two: Side Characters

Sir Hereward!! i love him he is such a sweet and good and my heart breaks every time i read the end of physik and he says he has been worrying that jenna might disappear from the moment he met her \\\\\

[winter-wise]

What if you were a travelling knight and you fell in love easily and you went into a tavern but you knocked into a woman by accident and she thought you were disgusted by her appearance because she has a facial scar, but you were raised among women who practise ritual scarification so actually she's like Marilyn Monroe to you and you tell her she's beautiful but she doesn't believe you and she's challenging you to a duel and the living puppet who raised you is watching you through all of this and based on your past flirting experiences this is barely making it into the top ten of your worst flirting attempts, and the puppet has a blue tongue. and pronouns.

[winter-wise]

Diversity win! the self-motivated puppet who broke into your temple and murdered your god is genderfluid

[workofthediesel]

Your favourite and least favourite character from a series, arguing

fic requests are open! send me an ask!

Sir Hereward took his job of guarding the Palace very seriously, and as much as Queen Jenna liked to have it open for visitors, he knew that there were certain times when people should not come calling. Like right now, for instance, in the dead of night with a thick fog rolling in.

Sir Hereward squinted into the gloom. Between the faint, flickering torchlight, he was only just able to make out the fuzzy shape of a young woman slipping through the front gate and approaching the Palace doors.

“Halt,” Sir Hereward called to the figure. When it didn’t break pace, even for a second, Sir Hereward drew a ghostly sword. “I say to you, halt!”

Still, the young woman didn’t so much as slow down. Sir Hereward cocked his head to the side, readying his stance. So, it was a battle she was after? Very well, he thought to himself, she could have herself a battle.

The woman reached the Palace doors. She placed a hand on one of the doors, pushing it slowly open. In retaliation, Sir Hereward did something he didn’t do often: he Caused the door to slam back closed.

The young woman jumped. She looked around wildly, trying to find the source of whatever force had closed the doors. Between the darkness of the night, the thickness of the fog, and his own transparency, Sir Hereward knew he was all but invisible. But after a few moments of squinting carefully at her surroundings, the woman spotted him. “Are you the one who closed the door?”

“Of course,” Sir Hereward told her. “It is my job to ensure the safety of Queen Jenna and her Palace. I will not allow intruders to access it.”

“Intruder?” the woman echoed, sounding offended.

“Yes, intruder,” Sir Hereward repeated.

“Sir, I am no intruder!”

“Then what do you call yourself, sneaking in uninvited in the middle of the night?”

“I do not need to be invited,” the woman said, lifting her chin haughtily. “I have every right to be here.”

“You do not,” Sir Hereward spat. He pointed his sword in her direction, hardly able to believe her audacity.

“I do.”

“Do you live here?”

The woman leveled a look at him. “I do not need to. I have every right to be here all the same.”

“On what grounds?”

The stranger harrumphed. “It is, to my understanding, that the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice has access to nearly all areas of the Castle in order to help ensure its safety,” she said loftily.

Sir Hereward choked back a laugh. “Madam, I know the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice, and I regret to inform you that you are not him.”

A complicated series of emotions flashed across the young woman’s features before finally settling down into something dejected and sour. “Yes, well. I was the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice once. A very, very long time ago.”

For a moment, Sir Hereward was confused. This woman spoke like a ghost who was still trying to cling to how things had been when they were still alive, but she was far too substantial to be one. No, she was clearly still flesh and blood. Perhaps she had also travelled from another Time, like Queen Jenna and her siblings once had?

Then, all of a sudden, the pieces clicked into place. Jenna had talked about this woman before. Syrah, he thought her name was. The poor ExtraOrdinary Apprentice who had escaped the Queste, only to find herself on a deserted island and taken under the control of a Possession Wraith.

Truly, an unfortunate existence to be subjected to.

A sudden wave of sympathy swept over Sir Hereward. This poor girl was hardly any different than a new ghost who was having trouble adjusting. And so, like he was talking to a new ghost, Sir Hereward switched into a gentler tone. “Who we once were matters less than who we are now,” he told her softly.

Syrah sighed. “I suppose you’re right,” she agreed, still sounding dejected.

Sir Hereward laid a ghostly hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps you ought to go home for the evening.”

Despite Sir Hereward’s attempts at reassurance, Syrah hesitated. She bit her lip, going quiet for a few moments before she quietly admitted, “Home doesn’t feel like home, anymore. My true home stopped existing hundreds of years ago. I don’t know what to do with myself here.”

“You’ll have time to figure that out,” Sir Hereward promised. “But for now, you need to rest. It may not feel like home, but you do have a bed somewhere, yes?”

Syrah nodded.

Sir Hereward stroked her hair, like she was a lost child he was hoping to comfort. Although he didn’t have the benefit of a physical touch, Queen Jenna had once described the feeling of a friendly ghost’s touch as being reminiscent of a summer’s breeze. That sounded pleasant enough to help soothe Syrah. “Then go to it now, and have yourself a good night’s sleep. You’ll be more than welcome here in the morning, should you still wish to come.”

Syrah nodded again. Whatever urge had driven her to the Palace in the middle of the night, and almost like a sleepwalker, she wandered back up the bridge and off the Palace grounds. Sir Hereward watched her go for a few minutes, making sure she was safely on her way, before returning to his post guarding the Palace.

In the privacy of his mind, he patted himself on the back for a job well done.