• Control • Matthias Helvar x Reader

2

"You didn't need to walk me here, you know," I said, as we reached the door to my room. Matthias had insisted on accompanying me, crediting his reasoning to my run-in with the innkeeper. We had talked for hours, and I guess you could say we became well acquainted. He was actually a seemingly genuine and kind man, if you ignore the fact that he murders my kind for a living.

"In Fjerda, we are taught to protect women, and treat with respect. I'm just doing my service as any Fjerdan man would," he said, flashing a kind smile.

     Ironic, I thought. If you knew what I was—who I was—you'd make it your mission to have my head on a spike.

"Thank you," I said, "but I assure you, I can handle myself just fine."
"I'm sure."
     I glanced up at him briefly at that, and busied myself with fiddling with the worn out door lock. Shoving my weight into the door, it finally budged.
"See? I can fend for myself," I joked.
Matthias chuckled. "Oh of course, no door is safe from Miss Lietsev and her door-pushing abilities."

     I rolled my eyes and stepped inside, tossing my satchel to the side before turning to him. "Are you staying at the inn? Or are you off to go save more women from sleazy innkeepers and rusty doors?" I asked, walking over to a narrow mirror at one end of a wall to adjust my cloak.
"Not quite that," he laughed. "I'll be staying the night, and leaving at dawn."
"Oh? What for?"
Matthias looked down the hallway as though he was ensuring no one was listening. "You've heard of the one they call a shadow summoner, yes?" He asked.
I felt my heart hammer in my chest, and chose to keep busying myself with my hair in the mirror. "The general? Of course," I said, hoping he was referencing The Darkling.
"No, the woman."
I gulped, feeling my hands get clammy. "Oh, yes," I said nervously. "Of course."
"Well," Matthias started, "she's fled the confines of that filthy palace."
I nodded slowly, recollecting the exact day I did so. Just a week ago.
"Yes, so I've heard," I said. Recollecting my thoughts, I asked, "you and your Drüskelle friends aren't seriously hunting her, are you?" I asked haphazardly.
"Yes."

     I knew he was getting to that, but hearing them hurt. Quite badly.
And I just now realized, he is hunting me. The man respectfully standing just in my doorway, who refused to come into a woman's chambers for it would be "uncouth".
I nodded, not saying a word for a while. The silence was deafening.
"Well, I bid you good luck then," I said simply, hoping he didn't notice the slight edge.
"I'd Djel wills it," he said, a ghost of a smile on his face.

Silence ensued again.

     I yawned. "Well, I'd hate to cut this short, but I'm exhausted if you don't mind," I said, suddenly eager to get this unfairly attractive Drüskelle out of my room.
"Oh! Of course," he said, as though he'd snapped out of a daydream. "I'll be seeing you, should Djel favor me," he said kindly.
"Best of luck," I said simply, smiling back.
     He stepped away into the hallway, and once I was sure he was far enough, I slammed it shut. I called upon the shadows and created a thick barrier that blocked that godforsaken door, and let out a heavy breath.
"Saints," I cursed to myself.
     Peeling off the cloak, I took off my kefta and delicately placed it over an armchair. I let myself fall back onto the rough bed, and sighed.
I can leave before him, I thought to myself. Get a head start .
I huffed and pulled the pillow over my head and groaned.
Why do I always have to get myself into these situations?