the ruse | mcd!garroth ro'meave x fem!reader
summary: the arrival of zane ro’meave, the high priest of o’khasis, has caused tensions to rise in phoenix drop. with the risk of garroth being taken back to his original village, lord aphmau has other plans to make him stay. but this ruse requires a lie, a fake relationship, and a village girl with a big secret.
wc: 4.8k
a/n: this was definitely rushed, so im sorry about that! i haven’t written in years so im def rusty. also theres definitely some grammatical errors and a mix of modern and olden language so im sorry about that, too!
There were many truths that Garroth acknowledged: the sky was blue, Nana’s cakes were the best, and y/n l/n was a royal pain in the ass. It has been like this for as long as he could remember. Why, there was never a time where you weren’t difficult with him. For every greeting, you had a cold shoulder, every solution, you had an annoyingly accurate counter response.
Garroth prided himself on his patience and grace. Begrudgingly, he had his upper class upbringing to thank for these traits, not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. But somehow, you managed to get under his skin with ease. He was unaware of the cause for this behavior, but it seemed like every opportunity to offer an olive branch was turned down with the snub of your nose.
You made it very easy to hate you, but also very easy to admire. You were fiercely independent and highly intelligent, much to Garroth’s chagrin. Somehow, you could wield a sword as effortlessly as he could, though you never explained why. And Lord Aphmau always turned to you for leadership advice, as if you’d held the lord’s title before.
Or perhaps, you had been prepared to hold the title before.
It was a mere theory, but it explained many oddities about you. Your posh language, the way you walked around the village gracefully, as though you were floating in your dress.
Not that Garroth was watching, or anything.
A snap of your fingers brought Garroth back to reality.
“Perhaps I shall pose for you to paint my portrait,” you snarked with a twinkle in your eye. “A painting would last longer.”
Garroth’s face burned a bright red, grateful for his helmet blocking his face from your view. “I know not what you are speaking about, y/n,” he retorted weakly before turning to face Lord Aphmau.
The initial meeting with the high priest of O’khasis had the head guard on edge. With the wedding in a few hours and his true identity on the line, Garroth’s mind was reeling.
The woman held back a laugh, the corners of her lips quirking up into an amused smile. “Be nice,” she chided, looking in your direction. “Let’s focus on the issue at hand.” Aphmau glanced over at Garroth. “The wedding is this evening. Garroth, are you sure you can’t attend?”
Garroth solemnly shook his head, looking out into the distance where the high priest of O’khasis had sauntered off with his entourage. His fingers curled into a fist, something you took notice of instantly, but you kept your mouth shut. “I cannot,” he responded with a sigh. “I hope you understand, Lady Aphmau. I have my reasons.”
“I’m sure you do,” you muttered under your breath.
Garroth’s eyes quickly flitted to yours, narrowing sharply. “What is that supposed to mean, pray tell?” he asked, voice unwavering and tense.
You met his gaze, feigning innocence with a shrug. “I just find it all too interesting that you are apprehensive about the presence of the high priest in Phoenix Drop,” you explained in a cool tone. “It’s suspicious, if you ask me.”
“y/n,” Aphmau began, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Garroth would never-”
You whipped your head to face the leader of your village. “I wouldn’t be so trusting, m’lord,” you warned. “After all, why doesn’t he show his face to us? I cannot trust a man who will not lower his guard-”
“Enough,” Garroth raised his voice. “I have dealt with enough of your comments throughout my service to Phoenix Drop. I will not attend the wedding and that is final. Should you believe my intentions are pure or not is up to you. But I will not allow you to belittle me any longer.”
Silently, the guard stormed off, leaving you and Aphmau in the village plaza. A part of you was grateful the area was empty of villagers so they didn’t hear your spat. Guilt ate away at you for your comments. Your impatience was a weakness of yours. You knew that very well. So did your parents, who constantly badgered you about your flaws. It was unbecoming of a lord, they always said.
“I’m an idiot,” you sighed.
Aphmau took your hand and squeezed it. “Only sometimes,” she joked. The two of you shared a quiet laugh. “But seriously, you know better than anyone that Garroth is trustworthy. You should probably apologize to him before the wedding.”
Your shoulders caved in regret. “Of course,” you murmured.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Time had passed since your run in with Garroth. The wedding was only a mere hour away and Cadenza had given you the suit she designed for Garroth to give to him. So that left you at the doorstep of the guard’s quarters, knocking at his door.
“Garroth?” you called out softly. “It’s me. I wanted to apologize for my words earlier. It wasn’t right and it was completely out of line. I know I can be a jerk at times to you, and I’m sorry about that, too. I can be a bit hotheaded. It’s not an excuse but it is a weakness of mine.” Your fingers brushed against the wood of the door. “It’s a product of my past, truth be told. I tend to keep my walls up, it’s just how I’ve always been.”
Silence ensued, but you knew he was behind the door. You heard his footsteps walking toward the door, but they stopped at the sound of your voice.
“For what it’s worth,” you continued. “I think you’re a great guard, and one that I would trust my life with.” With no response from the other side, you set the package containing his suit on the ground. “Cadenza wanted me to deliver your suit, should you decide to come to the wedding. It is your choice, but I sincerely hope you come.”
Your face burned at your uncharacteristic vulnerability. Growing up, you were practically trained to conceal your feelings, as it was a sign of weakness. Expressing yourself freely felt odd, but right. Especially to Garroth, despite your harsh demeanor toward him -and despite your intertwined past- you felt a warm feeling towards him.
A part of you hoped that opening up to the guard would convince him to open the door, but alas the door remained shut. Walking toward the shore, you spotted Aphmau, who was chatting with Zoey. She spared a glance at your guilt-ridden face and gave you a supportive hug.
“He’ll come around,” she reassured you. With a grimaced smile, you nodded along, finding your seat as the ceremony commenced.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The ceremony was beautiful, you knew it would be. In your past, you attended many ceremonies, but this one was different. It was smaller, more intimate. The view from your seat at the reception brought tears to your eyes. Logan danced alongside Donna, gazing into her eyes with love you could only hope you could find for yourself.
You sniffled quietly, dabbing away at your eyes. You were so engrossed in the reception, you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching you.
“Didn’t expect you to have a heart,” a deep, familiar voice chuckled.
Startled, you turned to see a blond man looking down at you, dressed in the very suit Cadenza had made. Your heart was pounding inside your chest.
“My Irene,” you thought in your head. “He’s hot.”
You were quick to recompose yourself. “Didn’t expect you to clean up nice for once,” you shot back out of habit. You kicked yourself at your quip. “Sorry, I meant–”
“Think nothing of it,” he cut you off graciously. “For all of it.” As the current song ended, the band shifted to an older ballad, one that you recognized from your early education as a young child.
“May I have this dance?” Garroth asked, holding his hand out to you.
You stammered, avoiding his piercing blue gaze. “I don’t dance,” you lied weakly.
Another chuckle escaped Garroth’s lips. “Surely the daughter of one of the oldest lordships in the region would know how to dance the Irenian Waltz.”
Your breath hitched and the air went cold. The daughter of one of the oldest lordships in the region. As in, you, the heir to the Tienesian throne, if the city-state hadn’t been absorbed by O’khasis fifteen years ago.
How did he know?
“A change in hair color and name doesn’t fool a wise guard, Lady y/n” Garroth explained with a twinkle in his eye, as if he read your mind. “I had my theories, but they were confirmed when I looked through Emmalyn’s books and found your family portrait.” He took your hand, guiding you up from your seat. “You are the spitting image of your parents,” he complimented.
Garroth examined your face, paled by his words. “No need to worry,” he reassured you. “Your secret is safe with me, so long as mine is with you.”
This brought you back from your thoughts running wild in your head. “Of course, Sir Garroth,” you responded, a small smile reaching your lips.
The night continued without a hitch, concluding with the newlyweds sailing away to their honeymoon. The attendees had cleared from the plaza, all returning to their quarters. Aphmau and Zoey followed suit after cleaning up the plaza, leaving you and Garroth alone.
You sat at the edge of the ceremonial stage, kicking off your shoes. Your feet ached terribly, since you hadn’t danced this much in a long, long time. As you massaged your heel, you felt a pair of eyes watching you intently.
“You truly must have a staring problem,” you remarked, looking out into the water. “Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”
Garroth let out an amused laugh, joining you on the floor. “I’m afraid I must have missed a lesson or two.”
You took a swig of the wine left over from the reception. Passing it over to Garroth, he silently declined and opted to set the glass on the ground. “I suppose my mask has fallen now,” you mused, glancing over at the handsome guard. “So what is your story then, Garroth Ro’Meave?”
He stiffened at the sound of his official name. “I was betrothed to the daughter of the lord of Scaleswind,” he began. “I didn’t love her, nor was I ready to lead an entire city-state. So I faked my death, escaped O’khasis, and joined the guard here.” Garroth nudged you with his shoulder. “Your turn, y/n.”
“A wretched lord from a nearby powerful village was hungry for more power and land,” you sighed. “He wished to join forces with my family through an arranged marriage between me and his firstborn. My parents refused, they wanted me to find love on my own.” A tear trailed down your face as you recalled the vivid memory. The flames that engulfed your home. The screams of fear from your people, your parents… “They also knew that my family descended from one of the divine warriors. That kind of power in the wrong hands…” you shuddered.
“What a terrible lord,” Garroth said, giving you a sympathetic look. “I cannot imagine who could do such a thing.”
“It was your father,” you deadpanned. The shocked expression on his face made you bark out a laugh. “So you can imagine why I was so apprehensive around you all this time.”
Garroth coughed awkwardly. “I see,” he mumbled. “So you and I were…”
“Fiances?” you finished for him. “Almost.”
A pregnant silence soon followed. It took this information to prompt Garroth to finally take your offer and drink from the glass. In this quiet, you felt a deep sense of camaraderie between you and Garroth. Two firstborn of lords, both destined to the throne but not willing to take it. It made you appreciate him a little bit more.
“y/n,” Garroth whispered. “For what it’s worth, I think you would have made a beautiful bride.” Garroth stuttered at his words. “A great leader, as well.”
You smiled softly. “And you would have made an excellent lord.”
Without either of your knowledge, you found the both of you slowly leaning in. As your eyes fluttered closed, Garroth’s paned down to your lips, soft and luscious, begging to be kissed.
“Well, well, well,” an amused voice spoke. “It is so nice of you to show your face, brother.”
You pulled away at the sound of Zane’s menacing voice. Garroth stood up quickly, pulling you up beside him.
“Zane.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“I don’t understand,” Aphmau said, rubbing her temples.
The three of you were seated in your kitchen, sipping tea and discussing everything that had happened that day. Laurance was back from the Nether at Ungrth’s sacrifice, though he was now blind. Zane hadn’t left the house he commandeered, thank Irene. All that was left was trying to decide how to keep Garroth in Phoenix Drop.
“S-so, you’re the heir to the throne of O’khasis?” Aphmau asked, pointing at Garroth in disbelief. “And that, that evil man is your little brother?”
Garroth nodded, tightly gripping his mug. “Unfortunately,” he muttered.
Aphmau sputtered before taking a deep breath and drinking from her cup. “And you have a fiance? The daughter of the lord of Scaleswind?”
“Ex-fiance,” he clarified, sending a shy glance in your direction. “Father disowned me those years ago, but Zane appears to be adamant on bringing me back to fulfill my duty as firstborn and heir to the O’khasian throne.”
“We can’t let that happen,” Aphmau cut in, face full of determination. “There must be something we could do to stop him.”
You hummed, tracing the rim of your mug. “Couldn’t we just-” You raise your finger and drag it across your neck. “Him?”
Aphmau seemed convinced, but Garroth shook his head. “He is far too powerful to kill, I’m afraid,” he confessed honestly. “Doing so would be an act of war against O’khasis. Doing anything to him would trigger all out war with O’khasis and their twenty or so allies.”
The lord sighed, drumming her fingers against the table. “Could you fake your death again?” she suggested.
Another shake of his head. “Zane is already onto me and my schemes. He’d find me again, and even then he would use Phoenix Drop and everyone I love as leverage to bring me back, I just know it.”
Aphmau huffed in frustration. Any suggestion you or Aphmau raised was turned down. It appears as though Zane could counter any move you made.
As Aphmau rambled on with potential plans, your eyes peered over to Garroth, whose eyes were already fixed on you. You raised a playful eyebrow at the guard, causing him to quickly look away. You could even see blush dust his cheeks, rising up to below his eyes, visible through his helmet.
You hadn’t forgotten about what happened last night. You and Garroth nearly kissed. Garroth, the quiet but calculated guard who always patrolled the streets of Phoenix Drop with bravery and a kind heart. The man who always got on your nerves, and vice versa. You could have never imagined falling into those circumstances last night.
It must have been the wine, you decided. It was the alcohol and the build up of love and romance throughout the night that got you to stop thinking clearly, surely that must have been it.
‘Remember, y/n,’ you told yourself fiercely. ‘His father wanted your family dead. You can’t lose yourself in that nonsense.’
Aphmau snapped her fingers, an idea forming in her head. “What if you had a wife?” she questioned.
Garroth was taken aback. “A w-wife?” he stammered.
“Yes, a wife,” Aphmau repeated. “It would have to be official, since an official record should be presented to invalidate any claims to marriage between you and the daughter of the lord of Scaleswind. But I’m sure you could have a marriage of convenience of some sort. Then you could break things off once this whole ordeal is over.”
“I mean, it could work,” Garroth contemplated. “But it couldn’t be just anyone, he could easily pull me apart from any villager. It has to be a woman of power, power that could rival O’khasis and Scaleswind. A woman who-”
“A woman who was heir to the Teinesian throne,” you finished, setting your tea down.
“But that city-state had burned down years ago,” Aphmau said with a furrowed eyebrow. “Emmalyn said so, none of the lord’s family survived, and the village was absorbed by O’khasis.”
“No one except me,” you corrected calmly. “I was the firstborn of the lord of Tiensely. I was the sole survivor of my family. No one knows this except for the people in this room.”
Garroth looked over at you apologetically. “Lady y/n, I won’t ask of you to do this for me.”
“Good,” you settled, standing up and brushing your hands against the skirt of your dress. “Because I won’t do it.”
Aphmau followed suit, following you to the window where you stood. “y/n,” she begged. “This could be the only way-”
“No,” you cut her off. “My family died at the hands of his father to ensure I’d live a free life of my choice. I’m not going to dishonor their wishes for him.”
“But y/n-”
“It is okay, Lady Aphmau,” Garroth stood up. “I understand her decision. I won’t force her to sacrifice her opportunity to find true love for me.”
The room fell silent. You didn’t dare turn around to look him or Aphmau in the eye. The lord sighed before excusing herself out of your cottage to check on Laurance, leaving you and Garroth alone in your kitchen.
“I’m sorry, Garroth,” you whispered, hugging your arms around yourself. “I just can’t bring myself to do it.”
Garroth approached you carefully, taking your hands in his. “It is quite alright,” he reassured you. “I swear it. A marriage between us is exactly what got us into this mess in the first place.” He let out a little laugh. “We’ll think of something.”
You removed your hands from his grasp, slowly raising them to his helmet. You paused for a moment, waiting for Garroth to tell you to stop. Instead, he nodded slightly, allowing you to remove gear and reveal his face. His cheeks were just as red as they were last night. It was almost endearing.
“I want to so badly,” you confessed. “But I can’t. Even if it is a ruse. I can’t do that to my parents, to myself.” The guard raised an eyebrow in confusion, urging you to explain. “I…care for you, Garroth,” you told him, looking away from his crystal blue eyes. “But I’m scared to give into these feelings. What if they are fleeting for me or you, or what if this union brings more harm than good?”
“We’d find a way,” Garroth pleaded, cupping your cheek. “If this ruse goes to hell and I have to fight Zane or my father myself, I will do it. If Zane tries to lay a finger on you I will forbid it. I cannot hide my feelings from you any longer, y/n. I want to give into this, this feeling. I want to give into you.”
You almost give into his pleading words. His desperation in his voice was drawing you in, nearly persuading you. But you pulled away, despite your heart fighting your body so hopelessly.
“I can’t,” you say finally.
Garroth paused before stepping back. He took his helmet and placed it over his head. “I…” he sighed. “I understand.” He gave you a small nod and made his leave. “Good day, m’lady.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Days passed since your encounter with Garroth and things were awkward, to say the least. You tried to stay out of his way while he roamed the village on his patrols, and he did not visit your cottage or vendor stall during his breaks.
You were tasked with the job of watching over Laurance since Aphmau and Garroth were handling O’khasis affairs. You barely knew of the guard before he went into the Nether, you only knew about his cassanova tendencies from Aphmau. But this version of Laurance was completely different from Garroth and Aphmau’s description. He was quiet, observant, almost blending in with the walls of Aphmau’s basement.
“You don’t talk much, do you, y/n?” Laurance spoke up as you soaked a rag with warm water to clean his wounds.
You hesitated before responding, not expecting him to speak. “Speak when spoken to,” you remarked, dabbing gently at his burns. The guard winced in pain but withstood the aching feeling.
“There’s that attitude Garroth had told me about,” he smirked, still staring blankly at the ceiling. “Though he said you have more bite in your words.”
You made a face, cheeks burning at the thought of Garroth talking about you to Laurance. “Sorry,” you muttered, though you were not apologetic in the slightest. “I have a lot on my mind at the moment.”
Laurance hummed, allowing you to lift his arm to wrap it in a clear strip of cloth. “I’d imagine,” he mused. “Garroth did appear to ask for your hand in marriage in the most impractical of ways.” You stiffened at his words but continued dressing his wounds. “Sore subject,” Laurance remarked. “I could feel you tense up and I could hear your heart race.”
“I’m supposed to read your vitals, not the other way around,” you retorted, trying and failing to change the subject. Laurance remained unmoved by your attempts. “Fine, yes, I am still thinking about Garroth.”
The blind man chuckled, his face turning to face you, but his eyes appeared to look through you. His grey eyes were still sparkling with interest. “You seem to really care for him,” he commented. “So why don’t you do it? Marry him? Even if you are married to him under false pretenses, your relationship would still have a truthful foundation.”
“It’s not that simple,” you fought back, albeit weakly.
“It really is,” Laurance responded stubbornly. “I may be blind, but I can sense the love you and Garroth have for each other. Even though you’ve both tried to hide your feelings all this time, it is as clear as day. If tensions with O’khasis are truly as dire as Aphmau has explained, this marriage could potentially save not only Garroth, but the entirety of Ru’an.”
Laurance took your hand and squeezed it. “Look, I know yours and Garroth’s secrets. I know who you both truly are. And I know that you both want to do what is in the best interest of your people, regardless of your lordship title or lack thereof.” He smiled gently, his thumb brushing against your hand. “And despite that, wouldn’t you want a chance at finding love?”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Garroth walked the streets of Phoenix Drop on high alert, his eyes scanning the village for anything amiss. Aphmau followed beside him, arm linked with his as he escorted her to the baby shower. Zane has been quiet for the past few days, too quiet for Garroth’s liking. He was not fond of his younger brother, to say the least. But it’s easier to monitor a loud threat than one that lurks in the shadows.
“You needn’t worry too much, Garroth,” Aphmau chided gently. “I can take care of myself.”
“I am sure you can,” he said, eyes still patrolling the area. “But I am still on edge about Zane. He hasn’t approached me about my arranged marriage as of yet. I am weary of what he is planning.”
“Perhaps he’s given up,” Aphmau hummed hopefully.
Garroth shook his head in disappointment. “That is not likely, I’m afraid,” he sighed. “Zane is far too determined to give up on this kind of thing. Whether it is acquiring more land or seeking revenge on his enemies, Zane would never give up on his schemes.”
Aphmau gently grasped Garroth’s arm in concern. “There has to be a way to stop him,” she said firmly. “Even without y/n’s help…” Aphmau stared up at Garroth. Although she couldn’t see his face, she knew he grew tense at the sound of your name. “You love her, don’t you, Garroth.”
It wasn’t a question. She could tell how much he cared for you, even before your almost-kiss at the docks. She was sure something would blossom between the two of you, sham marriage or not.
“That does not matter, Lady Aphmau,” he responded solemnly. “I cannot force her to reciprocate my feelings. She has a duty to her family, and I have a duty to Phoenix Drop.” Garroth’s gaze was set forward toward the farmhouse. “This village needs me. I–”
“Garroth Ro’Meave, you are hereby ordered by Lord Garte to return to the city-state of O’khasis and fulfill your duty to marry the heir to the lordship of Scaleswind,” Zane’s head guard ordered. “You will now remain in custody of the O’khasian guard and are relieved of your duties to Phoenix Drop.”
Garroth and Aphmau staggered backwards, taken aback by the lord’s decree. “That is not possible,” Aphmau exclaimed, standing between Garroth and Zane. Zane’s guards raised their swords in Aphmau’s direction. “You told us he had three days.”
Zane chuckled menacingly. “Then I’m afraid I have to take back my word, Lord Aphmau,” he sneered. “It is a matter of state business.”
“You can’t take him,” Aphmau fought back roughly. “I forbid it. As lord of Phoenix Drop, I forbid you from taking my head guard.”
“Your title as lord means nothing compared to the power of O’khasis,” Zane’s guard smirked.
Zane nodded in agreement. “Guards, seize him–”
“Stay away from my husband!”
Far up the hill, you stood beside Laurance where you were guiding him to the baby shower. Garroth’s jaw nearly dropped at the sight of you. He hadn’t expected you to attend the shower, much less call him your husband.
You approached the group, taking Garroth’s hand in yours and squeezing it tightly. You glared at Zane with disdain. Zane, however, remained unwavering.
“The woman from the wedding,” Zane remarked. “How interesting. My dear older brother has gotten himself a little wife. And pray tell, who might you be?”
You raised your head high. “I am y/n,” you responded confidently. “Of the l/n family of Tiensley.”
Zane fought back a gasp. “Impossible,” he declared. “The l/n family was eradicated years ago, I-I-” His eyes drifted down to your left hand, where a golden ring proudly rested on your finger. A familiar family crest was etched into the gold.
The high priest clenched his jaw, glaring at you and Garroth. “This is far from over,” Zane growled. “I’ll find a way to bring you back to O’khasis, Garroth. Mark my words.”
Wordlessly, Zane and his entourage of guards stormed off. Finally, Garroth had a moment to let out a breath of relief. Aphmau turned to face you, smiling brightly.
“y/n, you did it!” she exclaimed. “You got them off his back, I–”
“Only for the time being,” you corrected with a tired sigh. “We need to get the marriage finalized before we are off their radar. Even then, that will only buy us so much time.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Aphmau cut you off. “What matters now is that we are in the clear.” She stepped back and looked between you and Garroth with a mischievous look. “I’ll take Laurance to the party. I believe you two have a wedding to plan.”
Aphmau quickly took Laurance’s hand, guiding him to the farmhouse. The two skirted off, laughing giddily before completely disappearing out of sight.
You shook your head in disbelief before turning back to Garroth. He never took his eyes off yours, completely in awe of you and everything that unfolded before him.
“Paint a portrait,” you joked. “It’ll last longer.”
“You didn’t have to do that, m’lady,” Garroth whispered.
You reached forward, removing Garroth’s helmet to look at him more clearly. With a hushed giggle, you ruffled his blond hair. “Of course I did,” you insisted. “I care for you, Garroth. More than you’ll ever know.”
“But your chance at love,” Garroth furrowed his eyebrows. “Who knows how long this ruse will have to last. It could take years before my father’s reign ends. Even then, with Zane in power, there’s no stopping him from bringing me back home. I do not want to stop you from finding love, true love.”
You smiled shyly, looking away from Garroth. “I think I’ve found it already,” you confessed.
“You don’t mean,” Garroth stammered.
You nodded, raising your hand to cup the side of his face. “I do,” you said strongly. “I love you, Garroth Ro’Meave.”
Garroth pulled you in, closing the gap and kissing you. He held the back of your head, caressing your hair softly while kissing you with a kind of fervor and desperation you never expected from him. You reciprocated the affection, still holding him close even after you both pull away for air.
“I love you, too, y/n l/n.”
