Normalcy
It had been a long time since Sir Vigilantia returned home alone. Before she took on her young squire she was always alone, riding back onto the palace grounds with her most dignified stoic expression, her helmet on with the visor up so that all who saw her knew it was her, The Vigil Knight, returning to her beloved Lockhaven.
Smith’s presence only changed this slightly; he often went ahead or trailed behind, so it wasn’t uncommon, still, for her to return home alone, head held high and knuckles cracked and bloodied beneath metal gloves. However, she occasionally returned with her squire at her side, leading their horses behind them and looking up at the stone-faced knight like she held the answers to the universe in her steely gaze. And as the two grew closer, it became more frequent that they returned together, Vigil with a proud smile or even a hearty laugh as she and her friend recounted their latest adventures.
Still, when she returned from a mission she deemed too dangerous for her squire, she was always The Vigil Knight, stoic and serious and impossible to read save for her pride, and her fatigue.
Baronet Blacwin deGray changed all that. The first time she returned to Lockhaven with him, she didn’t parade into the palace with her armored horse and shield and sword; it was late, and she took him to dinner at her favorite pub and she smiled the whole damn night. And, sure, people talked when they saw him the next morning, but Vigilantia was still herself, even if her friends could tell that she was fond of the stranger by the way her brow furrowed and her fists clenched.
When they went out on missions together, Vigilantia was still The Vigil Knight. She departed with every intention of remaining loyal to her people, doing the best she could on whatever harrowing task awaited them, and she rode off on her armored warhorse with her head held high and her brow creased with focus, and Blacwin gave a smirk (maybe a wink, if a maiden happened to be watching) and urged his black horse onward to follow her.
She never returned with her expressionless glare when she returned with Blacwin. Granted, she often returned looking annoyed, or even livid, with Blacwin either smug or sulking depending on how badly he pissed her off. But there were still times that they returned and she was laughing, or at least smiling proudly, or giving him fond looks as only they could. Teasing and bickering the whole way through the castle gates, Smith following right behind with either a grin or exasperated sigh.
Vigilantia was still The Vigil Knight, but her city saw a new side to her. Vigilantia, a knight but also a woman. A hero but also a person. Even she wasn’t completely unfazed, even she couldn’t deny such affections.
That all came crumbling down after Sir Huntingdon’s death. After Blacwin’s betrayal. The entire kingdom seemed to still be in shock, even with the details being varied rumors outside of the castle walls. A hero was dead.
It was more than that for Vigilantia. He was her mentor, her friend, more a father to her than her ‘true’ father could ever hope to be. He was the kingdom’s hero, sure, but he was her hero. He meant the world to her.
And so did Blacwin, and so she lost two of her closest friends in one swift action, and none of it made sense. For Blacwin was the one who killed him. Her closest companion killed her mentor, and nothing was right again. She was taken advantage of again, after promising herself she wouldn’t let it happen. And Hal was who paid for it.
Blacwin swore he would never have harmed the old knight, but the evidence was too great for her to trust him. People watched him do it- Smith watched him do it. Sir Hal was bludgeoned with Blacwin’s weapon. How could he deny the act? But he did, without even offering an explanation. Not giving her the slightest cause to believe him.
She wasn’t seen outside the castle walls for weeks; she was either holed up in meetings with her fellow knights or in the dungeon, trying to force him to explain his betrayal or at least to figure out what he stood to gain, whether the kingdom was in further danger.
He offered her nothing but baseless pleas until he simply gave up; surely she would not believe him. She couldn’t afford to.
Eventually, her loyalty to her duties overtook her conscience again, and she refused to keep herself in the safety of the castle any longer. She owed it to Hal and to Lockhaven to continue to be the knight she promised to be. Her pain was irrelevant.
Still, she went and she returned, mission after mission, no task too dangerous and no destination too far.
She returned alone each time. Not because Smith was never beside her, for often he was. But he trailed slightly back, watching her with a melancholy concern, no jokes or banter or even a smile.
She kept her gaze straight ahead, sweat and grime sticking to her skin and blood streaked across her cheek or forehead. Some of the less observant city dwellers decided she was “back to normal,” back to how she’d been before she’d met Blacwin or even Smith, but most knew better.
Her expressionless scowl was once proud, determined, somehow defiant. Now, it was empty. Her eyes no longer sang of conquest and intrigue but reflected the stone walls of her city, grey and bare and immobile.
She was not the same as she’d been when she had first been alone. When she was first alone, she didn’t understand that she didn’t have to be.