Courtly Love- Yandere!Knight x Reader, Gender-neutral reader, a small bit of violence/brief description of gore
You're the child of a king, the sole heir. Your empire is the strongest in the world, bringing peace and prosperity to its allies. However, an empire must grow, and of course, war is waged for resources, land, gold, or purely out of spite. Your empire has many friends but just as many enemies. And with such snakes in your garden, your father supposed you needed a protector, a guardian.
Enter your knight. Sir Wesley the Master of the Roq, Lord of the Stone, he has many titlesā¦ The famed saviour of your kingdom who had slain dragons, and sieged cities through his many successful campaigns. His loyalty to his king knew no end. Of course, he protect you, of course he'd ensure your safety, he swore it upon his life. Yet you couldn't help but find Wesley's gaze unnerving, it was as if he never looked away from youā¦I mean it was his job to watch over you...But it made you feel strange. Not just when he was with you, but even when you were alone, in your chambers, your garden, the secret places you thought only you knew about. He also never blinked, maybe he was just blinking when you were? He was strange, but the songs, the stories, he was a hero! A good, noble, man, chosen by the gods. Wasn't he?
Wesley knew he wasn't a good man, a good person. Blood coated his hands, his soul had been dipped into the burning fires of the underworld and he craved something dark, it was always on the tip of his tongue, but every time his blade cut into a foe, he knew that this is what he was made for, his true purpose. He had been thrust into knighthood when he was young, a sword in his hands before he could read. He had trained till his palms bled, pain had become a second language to him. He felt little, trained not only to be a warrior, but a pawn for the kingdom. His smile was supposedly dazzling, but every time he looked back at his reflection, he felt ill. It was nothing but a mask. A facade.
When Wesley had been tasked with the āhonourā of being your guardian, he couldnt help but feel like he had been cast aside. Gone was the adrenaline, the headrush he would feel in battleā¦ denounced and degraded to a glorified babysitter for the spoiled heir of a kingdom he could truly care less about. Yet once he saw you. By the gods, he could have fallen to his knees when your eyes met. It was almost cliche, love at first sight, yet you captured him. He didn't think he could exist without you. You spoke little, but when you didā¦ it enthralled him like a siren song, how your laugh echoed through the room, your voice like soft bells. Why were you so quiet? Why did you not let your thoughts ring out in these large, empty halls? In strategy meetings and banquets, how could these useless lords talk over you, how dare they cut you down before you had a chance to grow?
Wesley truly wished to take you away from all this, away from the court, from the leash that had been growing tighter and tighter the longer the empire's influence grewā¦The suitors that came vying for your attention. Yet he knew if he did steal you away, like in the dreams he'd been having so often, the dreams that began to grow darker, stranger...How when he would wake, the sheets damp with sweat and something sticky ... he'd ache, yearning for your touch. If he did steal you away, he knew he'd become a noose, he would never let you go if he had the chance to take you.Ā
A festival was to take place, in honour of the start of Summer. Of course, as tradition, there would be a jousting tournament. Wesley knew he was to play in your honour. You sat there, a placid smile on your face. The warmth of your gaze gave Wesley more comfort than any prayer or drag of opium ever could. He would win, of course. His talent and skill were renowned throughout the lands.
As Wesley mounted his steed, he cast a glance at you, you politely waved, your smile more genuine as you watched the festivities. Wesley felt a surge of sickness. Oh, how could you not know how much he truly needed you? How you were the only thing keeping him from tossing himself off the castle walls. The things he'd do to see you smile, the things he had done.Ā As the two men raced towards each other, lances outstretched, you couldn't help but watch in sick fascination as Wesley's lance penetrated his opponent's helmet, the gurgling scream that left the poor man as it gouged through, and eventually the poor man fell from his horse, sobbing loudly as his calls for help were drowned out by the cheers of the crowd.
You couldn't look away from the man as he lay in the sand, not even noticing as Wesley approached the viewing stand. Your attention snapped back to Wesley as he pulled off his helmet, a smile on his face. You held your trembling hand out to him, your eyes wide, your placid smile still plastered to your face, so tight you could feel your cheeks hurt.
Wesley gazed up at you like you had hung the stars, he carefully took your hand, his glove speckled with blood, but he was ever so gentle as he placed a soft, chaste kiss on the back of your hand.
