Meet Me By The Moutainside- Original FemxMale!Reader

King... Whatever The Fuck.

God it's hot. Y/n swiped the back of his neck with an old dirtied piece of cloth, looking up at the pale day sky. It was hotter than a close flame at this time of day. 

But that didn't matter to him.

'A few more, then that gets me twenty fice, enough for two days,' he thought, crouching down and plucking a small plant from it's root, throwing it into a braided basket. He huffed, 'if that damned geezer never left us, we would be living happily again.'

But no. Y/n L/n's father ran away two spring harvests ago, forcing the eldest son to work in the fields for a mere twenty fice pay per day. Fice was the currency in the town, equal to two present time USD bills. Vaceian was a smaller town, population near 180, Y/n being one of the lucky lot. The sun beat down on the poor male while he tugged the basket closer to the end of his share of the field. A smile tugged on his weary features. 

"Let me go!" a voice screamed from inside a close forest.

He perked up, looking in the direction of the sound, 'what the hell?'

He stood up, patting down his yellow trousers, his eyes never leaving the direction of the sound. A child's scream screeched from inside the tree barricaded area, and he broke off into a sprint, jumping over green patches and stumbling over loose stones and roots. Other workers, old and wrinkled, looked at him like he was a mad man and carried on with their work. He skidded to a stop, holding a tree trunk for support, listening hard for the voice to erupt again.

"I said let me go you damn tin can!" a girl's voice called.

He broke off into a sprint again into the thick forest, swiping away tree branches and leaves that were in his path. His leather belt, pouches connected to it, rattled with their insides while he flung himself over a large root, having to use two hands to hoist him up and over. The bottoms of his feet stung with the quick contact with the earth again as he took off. The forest began to get thicker, running blindly in the direction of the begging child. He pushed through to close trees to be met with a clear field, a bridge to his left. He saw two large men, bearing decked out blue armor, holding a girl by the collar of her black dress over a bridge. Shallow water rushed underneath it while the girl struggled, tears threatening to spill from her eyes while the two men laughed merrily. Their hands clasped large spears, it's handle decorated with a longer blade along the slide.

"You deserve this you nasty-" one began.

"Hey!" Y/n called, their head turned to look at him.

"What do ya' wan'?" another slurred. He's drunk.

"Let my..." his eyes squinted at the girl, "....little cousin go," he finished confidently. 

The one who he supposed was drunk chuckled, his cheeks flaming a red while he stumbled over. "Listen lad, if ye' wan' ter play the hero, begome a knigh' like me," he pounded his armor with a clenched fist.

He scoffed, "I think that'd be playing villain."

The knight holding the girl sneered as she grasped the ledges of the bridge with her petite tan hands, trying to gain balance. Her dark, nearly black, brown ragged hair, the back short, but the front of her hair was longer, being held by grey leather pieces on the sides of her face. Her brown eyes watered with tears that trailed down her seemingly perfect face. The drunken knight stepped back in surprise upon registering Y/n's words.

"Wha' di' ya' say?" he said with a squinted eyes, grasping hold of his spear.

Y/n cleared his throat, "FUCK. OFF." He emphasized the words to the utmost ability.