“My lady, stay behind me!” Ser Lunette barked, lifting an arm to protect Rain as they stepped into the house, “A feral goblin is within!”

“That’s just Fidget!” Arvel said, lowering Lunette’s arm from barring the doorway, “She’s not feral—”

At that particular moment, Fidget was on all fours on the floor, snarling ferociously.

“...Well... She’s not gonna hurt anybody,” Arvel said, squeezing past Lunette to walk inside. He reached down and picked Fidget up under her arms, and sat her on a chair, repeating firmly for her benefit, “Not gonna hurt anybody.”

Fidget flopped down on her bottom on the chair, folding her arms, and said, “Soldiers are no good. Soldiers are always bad.”

“Well not this one,” said Arvel, “You come on inside ‘n make yourself comfortable... uh... mister...”

“Miss will be fine,” said Lunette, “It is ‘ser’, not ‘sir’. A knight though I may be, I yet remain a woman.”

“You... yet... remain a...” Arvel muttered, “You got a real funny way of talking.”

Lunette’s eyes narrowed, and she bit her tongue, choosing not to squabble with the local yokel about such matters. She bowed her head and said, “I have ridden far, and my horse is nearing exhaustion. If it would not be too much of an imposition, I would ask to stay in your home for two nights, before we depart.”

The smile fell off Rain’s lips.

“Depart?” Arvel asked quietly.

“Of course,” said Ser Lunette, “The town is in an uproar, believing my lady may have been killed. I must return her home with all reasonable haste.”

“Oh,” Rain said quietly, “Yes, of course... I’m sure people are worried.”

“Rain is leaving?” Fidget asked, her large ears drooping faintly.

“Rain?” Lunette asked, raising an eyebrow at the goblin, “Lady Deleraine is the marchioness of the Nathulan Province. She has a duty to govern her people, and they look up to her for leadership, now more than ever. She may be ‘leaving’ to you, but she is returning to her home and her noble obligations.”

Arvel watched Rain as Lunette spoke. At first, he could see the joy sapped from her expression, but as her knight continued, Rain began to straighten her back and square her shoulders, as if visibly rising to meet her obligations.

“You alright with that?” Arvel asked.

“O-Of course,” Rain replied, “Two days should be enough time to rest Ser Lunette’s horse and prepare for our journey home.”

Arvel wanted to tell her ‘you know that isn’t what I meant’, but he figured she already knew. Rain grew angry whenever he didn’t let her speak coyly, so this time, he let it slide.

“Well, Rain’s been staying in the bedroom,” said Arvel, “You’re welcome to lay out a blanket on the floor if you want, and stay with her.”

“You are most kind,” said Lunette, crossing an arm over her breast as she bowed to him.

While Lunette and Rain walked for the bedroom door, Fidget looked up at Arvel.

“Is this okay?” Fidget asked quietly.

Arvel watched the bedroom door close before he went to pull out his bedding for the night, saying, “Yeah, it’s how things are supposed to be.”

The next morning, Arvel woke bright and early to tend to his chores. Any other morning, he’d have banged on the bedroom door, and the door of Fidget’s cabinet, to make sure they were up and about to help him. But on this day, Arvel instead opted to be alone with his thoughts.

Thus, it surprised him when he stepped outside and found Ser Lunette already there. She had doffed her armor and was wearing a pair of dark blue trousers and a sleeveless linen top. Her arms and shoulders were sculpted with muscle, which flexed as she lifted a heavy bucket in one hand, and a rake in the other.

“Good morning,” Lunette called out to him, “I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds, but I wanted to contribute as best I could. I raked the goats’ pen and cleaned out their leavings.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“You’re good,” said Arvel, looking her over suspiciously, “Just didn’t expect a city girl to know how to do that sort of thing.”

Lunette smirked, resting the rake over her shoulder as she said, “Perhaps not, but I am no ‘city girl’. The seat of the Nathulan Province is a well-established town, but most of its people still live spread out in rural areas and small villages. I grew up on a farm, much like this one, before I ever moved to the town to train among the guards.”

“Can’t imagine there’s many places that can support a whole village,” Arvel said, falling into step alongside Lunette as they walked toward the tool shed. Arvel gestured toward a manure bin, and right away, Lunette deposited her collection from the goat pen.

“There aren’t many,” she said, “The few lands that can support crops are frequently targeted by roving monster hordes or demons. I’m impressed that you could cultivate such a successful farm this close to the mountains.”

“The water’s good,” Arvel said, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked toward the desolate horizon, “Dig a deep enough well and you get the cleanest, freshest water you ever did see. The soil’s not that bad either, you just gotta scrape off the top layer and fertilize it real good. If I need lumber, there’s a forest up on the side of the mountain, maybe a day’s trip from here. All the building blocks are out there, you just gotta put them together.”

“And you’ve done so, masterfully,” said Lunette. She sat the dirty bucket down beside the manure bin and rested her rake over her shoulder, saying, “Lady Deleraine told me about what you did. How you rescued her from the goblins who kidnapped her. It was quite an impressive story, for a single young farmer to fend off an entire band of raiders like that.”

“Well, you know,” Arvel said with a grin, “You do what you gotta do.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of movement. His ears perked at the telltale ‘whoosh’ of an object cutting through the air quickly. Instinctively, he lifted his pitchfork to block the incoming strike, and the two wooden shafts met with a heavy clack.

“That ain’t real nice of you,” said Arvel, looking at Lunette.

Lunette smiled confidently at him, holding the rake handle near the head with one hand. Her arm flexed with tension, though the pressure she kept up didn’t seem to visibly strain her. She said, “Forgive my ill manners. Among the other knights, we often put each other to the test unexpectedly.”

“I ain’t no knight,” Arvel replied.

“Or so I hear,” she answered.

Arvel pushed Lunette back with a shove of their ‘weapons’, but she quickly came in for another strike, swinging the rake shaft like a longsword at his side. Arvel blocked it again, holding firm but not returning the aggression.

“There were gaps in my lady’s story that confounded me,” Lunette spoke calmly as she pressed her attack, “How you came to rescue her at the site of her carriage, and then arrived later on the side of the mountain. It feels as though some rather remarkable event has been glossed over.”

“Or not,” he said, “You know, real traumatic event. She could be mixing a lot up.”

“Perhaps,” she replied.

Lunette stepped in aggressively, swinging her makeshift weapon like a longsword with a most unwieldy hilt, though it barely slowed her down. Arvel was forced to back up, blocking and deflecting each strike, holding his pitchfork handle in a wide grip as though it were a staff.

“I cannot imagine one man standing against a dozen goblins in a wide open field and surviving,” she said as she pursued him, “And yet, even as one born beneath the Warrior Star, surely you could not have come to her rescue in the mountains had you fallen to the goblin horde. So which is it, Mr. Arvel?”

With a sudden upward swing, the rake was knocked from Lunette’s grasp. As her eyes traveled the tool flying through the air, Arvel stepped in close, his foot sliding behind hers as he shoved her with the side of the shaft, tripping her and sending her toppling to the ground. The lady knight instinctively reached for her fallen rake from the ground, but found herself blocked. Arvel stabbed the pitchfork downward, its tines perfectly framing her wrist, pinning it to the dirt. Lunette stared in shock at the weapon, which could’ve easily pierced her skin, being used to keep her captured harmlessly.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Arvel said, the shade of his straw hat falling across his face as he stood over her, “But there’s one thing your lady got right. I’m no Immortal Knight.”

Arvel pulled the pitchfork up and held the tool behind his back as he extended a hand to her. Lunette reached up, and grasped his wrist firmly, pulling herself up and to her feet.

She was quiet for a moment, looking down at their braced arms, before saying, “I saw your father’s sword on the wall. It’s quite dusty.”

“Yeah, Fidget can’t reach that high,” he replied.

Lunette shook her head, and said, “You didn’t use it, even to save my lady.”

“Didn’t need it,” he answered.

They stood in silence.

“I’m not—”

“You’re not an Immortal Knight,” Lunette said, “I know. A son’s obligations are only to his father while he lives, not to his memory. It simply... pains me, to know that such a legacy has been left to languish.”

“I’m a person, not a legacy,” Arvel said in earnest, “And I just want to live a simple, peaceful life. The kind it took my pa his whole life to find, and worked hard to leave for me.”

“And you shall have it,” she said, letting go of his arm. She did not seem upset with him, or angry. In fact, Lunette managed a small smile as she looked him in the eyes and said, “The burden of protecting others is a choice every individual must make for themselves. A warrior who chafes under the obligation cannot give themselves fully to the task, and will wind up hurting themselves and the ones they are charged to protect.”

He nodded slowly, and said, “I know you and your lady are disappointed.”

“Yes,” Lunette replied honestly, “But that simply means we shall have to find another way forward.”

“Can you?” he asked.

She replied firmly, “We must.”

Arvel smiled faintly and asked, “You want to help with the chickens?”

“Does anyone ever actually want to help with chickens?” Lunette asked, collecting the rake from the ground, before turning to walk toward the chicken coop.