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[Riyria Revelations] Fluff

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    “…didn’t gift you one because you’re not a good rider.”
    “And you are?” A snort.
    “Better than you.”
    “And you’re good only because you have a maranor horse. We’re back to straight one. I’ll be better with one.”
    “No, you won’t.”
    The Master hit him in the forefront with the pommel of his sword. “No distraction.” Then, he turned to the two riders. “Your Highnesses. You shouldn’t be out by yourself.”
    The prince waved his hands dismissively. “There are no danger, we’re too near the city.
    The Master frowned. He wasn’t there to be their bodyguard, but his duty imposed him to protect the royals. “We’ll come with you.”
    “Oh, there’s no need.” The princess’ tone reveal her annoyance. “We will remain in sight.”
    Hilfred studied her with his gaze down: she was cute as usual, with the elegance as she sat straight on her horse, the hair loose free on her shoulder, but kept away from her face with two golden pins. She noticed his stare and turned her head away in a very obvious manner. Then, before someone else complained, she yanked the rein and her horse trotted away. Her brother immediately followed her.
    The master watched them running with a scold, then sighed and returned to Hilfred, lifting his sword. “Let’s continue.”
    Faithful to his orders after the fire, King Amrath had provided Hilfred the best education and training he could in order to turned him in the best bodyguard for his daughter, as soon Hilfred recovered from his injuries. A year later, Hilfred had become proficient in everything, if not good. There was no hesitancy in the way he swung the sword, he could ride a horse a full trot and read complex books.
    Only then the king had allowed Hilfred to stay near the princess during events or every time she’d wanted to leave the castle. She hadn’t complained anymore, but her distain of him was clear in her gaze, who was incapable of deception. Hilfred, sometimes, spotted her looking at him training in the castle courtyard and she immediately turned her head away with a snort.
    It was so painful, more than all the hits his father or his bullies had given him.
    In one month, the princess would attend lessons at Sheridan University. Despite being so near Medford that people could come and go during the day, the princess had asked and gained the permission to stay in the dorm with the other students.
    The king had ordered so for Hilfred to remain with her all the time. It would be the real beginning of his work as a royal bodyguard and he feared it as much as he desired it. He was now making the remaining time useful to increase his skill: it was the only thing he could think of about his duty.
    The master had decided to teach him better how to fight on horses: Hilfred doubted he would have the occasion, but considering that they would travel back and forth from Sheridan, the possibility of meeting bandits wasn’t entirely far-fetched, so he complied.
    But now that they had seen the royal siblings going alone in the low Meadwloands, both him and the Master were distracted, even if for different reason.
    “I don’t want the king at my throat because his children are unhinged.” He gestured at Hilfred. “Let’s go search for them.”
    They went on separate way, Hilfred on the East, nearer the river and the border with Chawick. He remembered the princess loving the hills there, loving the sight of the land opening in front of her, especially during clear days.
    As he trotted in that direction, he heard a yelp of pain, followed by a loud laugh. The voices were clearly of the prince and the princess. With a low hiss at his horse, he spurred in the direction, the whining sound increasing his worries.
    They weren’t, as he expected, towards the hills, but lower, directly in the tight forest around the street. The princess’ horse was wandering free, while the prince still sat on his own, tears in his eyes as he kept laughing.
    “Oh, you should have seen her,” he said, unable to restrain a smile, when she spotted Hilfred. “She fell like a potato sack, the incredible rider she is!” And he laughed again, pointing at the figure of his sister.
    She was on the ground, her dress and her hair messy, cheeks wet with tears. She was breathing hard, clutching her right leg without worry about showing skin. Her ankle was bent in an unnatural position.
    “Alric! Call someone! Please…”
    Hilfred paled. He immediately dismounted and approached her with care.
    “Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s nothing,” Alric said, dismissively.
    But the ankle was definitely broken and the princess definitely hurt, because she didn’t reserve the usually disdained look to Hilfred, like she hadn’t any more strength not even too hate. He didn’t know what to do: he should bring her to a doctor immediately, but he feared he could do worse by moving her. But he couldn’t left her alone, and he couldn’t order the prince to go.
    “Are you hurt elsewhere, Your Highness?”
    She shook her head, frantic, without releasing her leg. She tried to speak, but what it went down was only a yelp.
    “Okay.” Hilfred looked around. He yanked out two lower branches, length like a hand, then striped his shirt to create sort of a bandage. “Let me…?”
    The princess seemed out of herself as he moved her hands away and created a make-up bandage for her fracture. In the meantime, the Master had reached them too. He got the situation in a second.
    “Oh, no, I won’t let her ruin my day.” The prince patted his horse’s neck and then he was off.
    The Master cursed under his breath. “I’ll go with him. Hilfred, bring her back to the castle.”
    The princess was limp in his arms when he lifted her on his horse, and then he kept her steady with an arm around her waist as he kept the reins with the other. He could feel the warm of her body against his and the slowly breath against his skin.
    Maybe it was destiny that he could be so near her only when she was hurt.

    “Definitely broken,” the doctor stated.
    The princess lay down to her bed, face pale, breath still hard. Her chambermaid had freed her from the more elaborated dress so they could check her health better, but besides some bruises she was fine: only her ankles was still damaged.
    Hilfred didn’t have much to do, but he couldn’t feel to leave, considering that no one was kicking him out. He felt guilty about the princess’ wound: he was supposed to be his bodyguard, yet he hadn’t manage to do anything to prevent it. It was so easy to get hurt.
    “I have to settle better the bones of the ankles before settling it,” the doctor explained, kind, “so it’s going to hurt a little.”
    “It can’t be worse than now,” the princess repeated. “Do what you need.”
    Now that they were back in the castle, she had put again the brave face, and her cheeks were again clean as she hadn’t cry for pain. But Hilfred recognized the effort she had to do to resist, the slight clench of her lips to restrain herself to whine, the twicht of her hands. She wanted to grasp the sheets but she didn’t dare, as it was a show of weakness.
    Without even realize, Hilfred stepped forwards and slide his hand in hers. She didn’t even seem to notice it was him, as she leaned in him, the way she clenched it while the doctor moved her ankle. His hand was sweat, her was warm, trembling, yet Hilfred couldn’t help but savoy the moment.
    That was what he wanted to do, be her anchor, be something she could rely on. He didn’t ask for more.
    She didn’t let of him not even when the doctor ended his work, her ankle now strictly bandaged and tied to the bed so she wouldn’t move freely until the bandage fixed itself.
    “I’ll have you prepared a sleep potion that will help you with the pain,” the doctor said, and left.
    Only then, Arista looked at Hilfred, as she saw him for the first time. Then she turned, settling better her head on the pillow with a hurt snort.
    But didn’t let his hand go.

    When the king arrived, Hilfred leaped up from the chair near Arista’s bed with the intention of leaving, but the king shook his head.
    “No, stay.”
    Hilfred obeyed, but didn’t sit again. Arista was sleeping, so the king stood there, watching her with intense eyes, which narrowed as he spotted her wrapped ankle. When he ducked his head towards Hilfred, he feared he was about to dismiss him definitely from service, or even punish him. After all, even if he hadn’t been in duty service in that moment, he had been bestowed with Arista’s protection, and he’d failed.
    In that moment, Hilfred didn’t know what to desire. Being near the princess was a dream for him, but the princess hated him now. And the king’s decision came not from kindness, but from the awareness that Hilfred would do anything to save Arista at the expense of his own live. It wasn’t a kindness from his part so maybe it would be better to be free from it.
    Maybe the princess would hate him less if he wasn’t his bodyguard anymore.
    “Stay with her,” the king said instead. “Be assured that she respects the doctor’s instruction and doesn’t leave her bed until she is healty.”
    “She won’t listen,” Hilfred heard himself saying, and it was the truth. “Especially because she is supposed to start university in a month or so.”
    “You act under my order, Hilfred,” the king answered, “so she will obey.”
    Hilfred nodded, because what else could be done? The king didn’t care his orders would only separate Arista from him more. And to be fair, even Hilfred cared more about Arista’s safety than her feelings for him.
    Once the king was out, Hilfred sat back on the chair.
    Arista, after drinking the potion, was now sleeping peaceful, no sign of her past pain visible in the way her mouth stood in a tight line and her eyeline didn’t even fluttered. She lay there, motionless, the chest lifiting regularly. Even Alric had come inside and seeing her sleeping so sound complained about “the exaggeration” of her condition.
    But Hilfred knew better and he was sure that, even in her sleep, she was bottling up everything. She couldn’t afford to be seeing as weak, even.
    There was something intimate in watching her sleep. If they would have been in better relationship, maybe Hilfred would have touched her. Nothing over the top, of course, even in his dream he never imagine to kiss her, even on the cheeks.
    But maybe he could have caress her face, a finger lining up the edge of her face until the chin, moving aside the rebel strand from her forehead. His hands itched at the thought, but he remained there, immobile like a statue.
    His eyes fell on her hand. While most of her body was now covered with a blanked, her arms lay at her side, the hand opened with the palm turned on the mattress. Hilfred remembered how tight had been her clutch during the previous ordeal, the warmness of skin again skin. He was sure she wouldn’t have done it if she wasn’t delirious with pain.
    Slowly, he put his hand again in the princess’ one.
     
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0 replies since 24/3/2023, 13:39   7 views
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