The Knight's Lover

Amelia curled up in the arms of her knight, Sir Rodrick. It was late in the afternoon, and Rodrick had only just returned from the field of battle, his armor badly misshapen, and the bruises and cuts on his body easily visible through the gaps in his armor. He was seriously injured, but while the healers were preparing space and equipment, he had insisted on seeing his Amelia, rather than staying in a spare room. They found a spot under a tree behind the castle many years ago where they would lay together when they had the time, and that was where they could be found.

Amelia looked up at Sir Rodrick, feeling his weight shift as he leaned back against the tree. He had taken off the dented helmet he had been wearing, and both of his eyes were black from the beating he had taken. But behind the injuries, Amelia could see one thing above the rest quite clearly - Rodrick was tired. He had been on the leading lines for years, protecting his king and kingdom with everything he had. This was not the first time he had returned from the field bruised and beaten, nor were his injuries the worst they had ever been. He had survived much worse.

But Rodrick was old now, as far as knights went. And now that he had found Amelia and fallen for her, his lust for blood and steel had diminished over the years. He was proud of his capabilities, and he would never act against his king, always prepared to stand as a guard between him and the enemy, but he was beginning to question how long he would be able to do so, and had confided these concerns to Amelia alone. She had promises to conceal his thoughts from the rest of the castle, but ever since he had spoken to her about them, she had become deeply distressed that one day the pain he went through for his kingdom would overtake him.

"Rodrick?" Amelia whispered. Rodrick peaked down at her through one eye. He had been close to falling asleep.

"I don't like where this is going," he said sleepily. "You never call me Rodrick unless it's something bad. What's wrong?"

Amelia pouted, but couldn't refute what he had said. "What are you going to do about all this?" she asked. "You look exhausted, and I can feel the weakness in your breath in the way your chest rises. I know you don't want to speak against the king, but surely there are other capable, younger knights who can take your place. And it's not as though you have to cease your service. You can become a military adviser. Then you can use that battle mind of yours in safer places."

The gentle smile Rodrick gave her always filled Amelia's heart with a warmth that she couldn't quite describe in words. "You've been thinking about this quite a lot, haven't you?" he said. "Sometimes I forget that I have fallen for such a wise maiden of our fair kingdom."

He hissed at the light slap on the cheek she gave him, but smiled through the pain. She fussed over him for a moment, apologizing profusely before finally settling down. "I just don't want to lose you," she finally whispered.

"You won't lose me," Rodrick reassured her.

"Look at you, though."

"I've been through worse."

"You were younger."

There was a long pause after that. Amelia listened to Rodrick's heartbeat until they saw the healers coming for him. "I'll think about it," he said as he stood up.

Amelia smiled. "Thank you, Roddy," she whispered.

He grinned back at her as the healers lead him away. "That's my Amy."