Sir Griffith x Reader

1 - Bright Morn

♡

The morning sun shines tentatively over the shroud of greyish clouds, and you step out of your beautiful stately home. Since turning into a lady of age, and your parents disappointed with your lack of rizz and exceptional high rate of turning down suitors, as well as having no brothers, you were gifted this home for your 21st birthday.

You sigh and brush the cobwebs away from the clouded window, condensed because of the cold of this early dawn. You draw your shawl over your nightdress, knitted by your maid, your only friend (since no one else bears to tolerate your eccentric femcel ahh) and sigh. Your breath clouds, even indoors, and for a moment, your mind is brightened by the warmth of your family's fireplace, no more in your home.

Though your parents were rich, you are not. You spent all your money on silly things silly young women with no husband do, like books and dolls and that cat of yours. Maybe your dad was right. You will end up to be a whore cat lady.

You sigh and put on your slippers, the lack of warmth cannot be helped, unless you work (unsuitable for a young lady such as yourself) or make yourself useful for a cost of approximately three gold pieces a turn (this could be suitable... depending on how useful you could make yourself, but you don't know, being a femcel, medieval edition).

You fix your head shawl and step outside for your morning walk, your fingers and toes suffer greatly, the meek sunlight serves no warmth. Its a routine. Maybe the cold will make you feel something... other than pneumonia.

The grass crunches under your feet, Matildah, your maid, was correct. The winter comes early this year. Will you survive? These thoughts rack your mind as you walk further across the acres of your land. Will you have to sell your cat, Timmy, to afford some firewood? You were close to last year. But maybe if you were useful you could have had the strength to cut some firewood yourself. Or at least have the skill set to marry a suitable man so he can do that (put the men to work!)

The wood? Ah.. the woods. You approach the dark, tangling mass of vegetation and tall trees of the dark forest by your home. Sometimes, you enjoy walking in and seeing how far you can get, before the sunlight seeps in through the leaves and ends your lonely game of hide and seek.

As the overhead canopy turns from crisping brown and green to dark, murky bluish black, you keep running over your parents favourite lines, like a weaving wheel. Click.

Their voices get louder

Tick tick tick

and louder,

Tick tick... thump thump thump

until it gets unbearable.

THOMP THOMP THOMP

You feel the air leave your lungs as you're floored suddenly, and the words and sounds are silent.

You try and catch your breath, as you lie face up on the cold, wet mulch (WE LOVE MULCH) and your dizzy vision fails to focus on even a single point (just as the gunshots kept missing your uncle when he was convicted and executed for treason last year xx) until, on a single bright point between the leaves, your eyes seem to pick up on.

Blue, white, shining silver. The sun? So bright... since when was there a clearing in the woods? You must have walked very far.

"Hello."

Since when did the sun speak?? You must have hit your head very hard when you decided to fall like the loser you are.

Suddenly, your eyes focus and you see that this bright spot has eyes, a nose... yes, a face! Beautiful soft long locs curtain over your face as this woman kneels over you. Her strikingly blue eyes, lashes long and dark, seem to be piercing into you.

"I'm sorry, my lady." You're even more confused. She has such a deep voice... this is a man??

You squint as you try to focus on their face and voice. Baby soft skin, not a shadow of stubble, pink shiny lips and finely delicate yet masculine features.

"My lady?" He seems to have strong arms, he picks you up with ease, and as you're brought to his eyeline you see his horse, well-bred and armoured as if training for battle, huff and kick it's hind legs.

He speaks again, his gaze piercing yet with a sparkle of care and charisma, his hold gentle yet strong, and his voice melodic though powerful.

"Ah. You must be the elusive Lady Y/N of Slayingtown." he chuckles under his breath and smiles. "I hadn't expected you to be so... beautiful, from the way you're known about."

He then shakes his head and his gaze becomes firm again. "Apologies for my impudence. I am Sir Griffith, and I apologise deeply... I knocked into you, my horse is... unaccustomed with these routes, which we... unsuccessfully, it seems, attempted to navigate."

He sets you down gently, and holding onto your hand as to stabilise you, kneels down on one knee, holding your hand close to his face.

"Forgive my indecency too. I apologise for hurting such a fair maiden as yourself."

You feel your cheeks tint a slight red, he continues. He raises your hand to his lips, his gloved hand is soft, but his lips are extremely smooth, surprisingly so for a man of his occupation, as it appears. He keeps his mouth gently placed on the back of your hand as he speaks, the warmth of his breath hot and tickling against your skin.

"Now tell me, my Lady... how can I repay you for the inconvenience and suffering I caused you just now?"