~Book O' Shovel Knight fanfics~

2. King Knight X Reader (regular fic) - My treasure (Part one)

(Credit for the picture goes to my friend on Discord, he suggested that I do a KK X Reader and gave me permission to use this. Now on with this pile of crap I put together-)

[Setting: Pridemoor Village, pre-Enchantress]

"I'm sorry, miss. We don't hire peasants."

You walked out of the pub with a scowl on your face. Another job turned down for poor little (Y/N).

You've always been one of the peasents of Pridemoor, ever since you were born. Your childhood was mostly spent living in a small wooden shack with your mother, two sisters, older brother, and father. The shack was built close to Pridemoor village, near a creek and some raspberry bushes that you and your siblings would go by to play or pick berries. You and your siblings were given small amounts of money your generous mother saved, so you could go down to the shops and buy something you liked. But there was a problem.

Your father was an alcohol addict and always stole the small amount of gold his children were given and spent it on long nights at a bar or pub. He would always come home in an angry mood, arguing and fighting with your mother. On occasion he would slap her or push her to the floor, where she would lay crying. Whenever that happened, which was usually each night, you lay awake in your room listening to them bicker on and on for countless hours about how bad your father's addiction was. Silent tears rolled down your cheek as you could do nothing to stop the impact.

Your mother was a very kind woman, with long brown hair she would braid and tie into a beutiful bun. Her eyes were blue, and her skin was a pale white. She would always take the berries you picked and, when she got the chance, made jelly or a pie. She was a very good cook, and very patient for somebody with four children. You never understood why your father would get so angry and hurt her with a young mind like yours.

Your mother had told you and your siblings to hide their precious gold where their father could never find it. And soon enough, when you turned eight, you had saved up enough gold to buy a doll from a kind elderly woman in Pridemoor village. The doll was made out of soft fabric, had beutiful yellow hair made of straw, and round, black eyes made of buttons. That doll was your treasured possesion. You took it wherever you went, and you slept with it on nights when your father fought with your mother. The doll brought you comfort, the feeling of safety, and a calming environment.

Around you turned twelve, your mother and father were having one of their usual arguments. You expected the usual, yelling from your father's booming voice and whimpers and pleas from your mother's calm speech.

Tonight, though, was like nothing you had ever expected.

You heard the sound of glass breaking, shattering, a shout, and a thud on the wooden floor.

Then silence.

You and your siblings quickly jumped out of bed to examine, you leaving your doll in your room. There, before you, your mother was lying dead on the ground.

Your sisters screamed, your older brother yelled at your father, and you...just stared.

Tears began rolling down your cheek as you remembered these times. You and your siblings had ran away from that shack, all parting ways, as your father was sent to the guillotine by the King of Pridemoor. You had no idea where the others were, all you knew was that you were here, in Pridemoor village, trying each day to get a job for some gold but getting rejected at each one. But luckily enough, a kind-hearted lady named Mary Sweets that you met at in the Armor Outpost, who had big, wavy blonde hair, always wore a cerulian dress to match her soft blue eyes, and was a hopeless romantic, had offered you to stay in her home until you had the gold to buy one for yourself. You walked through the tall grass towards the home, the scent of an ending winter and blooming spring filling your senses. You had arrived at the home, where Mary was inside reading the Pridemoor news. She noticed your arrival and let out a soft squeal.