A heart in need | Scaramouche x Reader

Journey's beginning

God, that sleep was good. It was unfortunate you had to get up from it so early. Scaramouche was still in bed, murmuring some things and moving around. If he was asleep, there was no problem in staying in bed for a little bit more.
...
...
...

You can't fall back asleep.

You start to count slowly.
One.. two... three. 
On three you slowly swing your feet out of bed. Leaving the tent temporarily to get ready for the day, and grab some breakfast while you're at it. 

Back in the old tent there were a few things that should be packed up for the trip. There was a dusty, old bow in the corner along with a filled quiver. Even without a vision, you were quite competent with the bow. Had a good eye for it. Thanks to the Balladeer teaching you, albeit more on the rough side, much to your dismay. He'd attempted to make you use a delusion, but it rendered you useless for days after even a few minutes of using one. 

It was the first, and last time you'd seen him show something that resembled panic the moment you dropped to the ground. And ever since, he'd taken the delusion away from you, refusing to let you use one again.

"All I need is a good, loyal dog. Can you be one when you're stuck, lazing in bed all-fucking-day? Because I can do that to you without a delusion's help." The Balladeer hissed when you kept on pestering to let you try once more.

It would be a good idea to stop asking, unless you had a death wish. You didn't.

Snapping back to reality, you pick up the weapon, patting it down to get rid of the dust.
It didn't take long to change your clothes and finish packing the rest of the items needed.
On your way back to the Lord's tent, you grab a few bars, meant to be eaten as you work. They'd be good for you and Scaramouche to eat in the morning; for some extra energy. You truly, from the bottom of your heart, couldn't wait to taste a different food.

Just as you were thinking about all the delicious meals you'd have, the flaps of Scaramouche's tent opened. They recealed your Lord; in a very angry state.

"You. Last night I told you not to fucking leave. And what do you do the very next morning?"

"Milord, I thought you would-"

"Would what, [Y/N]? I don't need workers that think. I don't need anyone that assumes, or thinks without me telling them to! If you have the braincells to think, you have the capacity to remember how I so very clearly told you; you do not leave my side." The Balladeer's tone had gone from a loud, almost booming sound, to a quiet and calm tone. You very early on learned that it meant that you were so, so incredibly in deep shit.

"I understand, Milord." A strange feeling bubbled up, but popped as soon as it came. You bowed your head lightly, and noticed your hand. The bars you were holding had crumbled completely from how tightly they were being gripped. Be it from anger or fear, you weren't sure.

"You're so god damned lucky, dog. If we weren't on such a tight schedule, I would've taught you a very important lesson. I might still, while we're on our way to Yashiori." With that, he left the tent, all the while dropping a second bag into your hands. His belongings, something you'd carry and guard until he needed it back.

Turning around to follow Scaramouche out of the camp, it became increasingly harder to ignore the pitying looks your fellow colleagues gave you. Your gaze was fixed onto the ground as you obediently set foot next to Scaramouche.

The walking was done in silence for a while. While usually it would be comfortable, you couldn't help but glance at the man next to you.
"Will we go by boat, Milord?" You ask after a while, unsure of whether he would still be pissed or not.