It was a perfect, sunny afternoon. And Y/n was stuck inside, embroidering another stupid flower. A single bead of sweat rolled down her spine. Her long-sleeved dress was going to get the best of her. She always disliked dresses. Yes, they were pretty, but she couldn't stand how it restricted her movements.
"What's the point of spending hours creating delicate flowers, only for them to be displayed in a worthless frame?" she thought, pulling scarlet thread through the taught fabric.
She couldn't wait for night to come so she could train under the cover of dark. When she was just a child, her father had found no shame in teaching her to carry a sword, but when he died, her mother decided that she was better suited for calmer activities, such as sewing or cooking. Since then, she had practiced in secret.
Nearly every night, she slipped into an old pair of her brother's trousers and crawled through her bedroom window. She went to the woodshed and lifted the loose wooden plank in the floor to retrieve her sword. She could spend hours fighting the straw stuffed dummies and rehearsing drills her father taught her. Y/n was eager to test her skills against others, and so every once in a while, with a lot of bribing, she would convince her brothers to duel with her. The young boys always left with their egos quite damaged. But since Y/n had acquired her new sword, her siblings had always found an excuse or another to turn down her offers.
A few weeks ago, as she was walking around the village, she walked upon a small hidden boutique, selling swords. Real metal ones. One immediately caught her eye. It was silver, with dark green stones decorating the handle. It cost her months of allowance, but she had no regrets, for when she had wielded it, it had been nothing but perfect. She was born to carry this sword.
~
A few days later, as she was finally finishing her embroidery, Y/n heard a commotion. Strange shouts, followed by trumpet sounds. As soon as her mother left to fetch water from the well, she escaped her colourful threads to run to the town square. There, a strange spectacle occured. Four men, all in armour, were standing in line beside a small man with oddly protruding ears. He was holding a parchment. Once the crowd quieted, he began reading.
"Peasants and nobles of this village and others around, we are gathered here today to carry the saddening news of the passing of one of our brave knights at the Round Table."
"How did he die?" yelled a villager.
"Well, he was... crushed by a cow," mumbled the man. The crowd erupted in laughter as he tried, in vain, to quiet them again. When the noise died down, he continued.
"Our table has now been reduced to four knights. For us to be whole again, we require your aid. Sons and fathers, you are invited tomorrow at dawn to join us in the town square, as to test your swordsmanship against those of our noble knights. The winner will be granted a place at the venerated Round Table."
Y/n couldn't believe her ears. This was the opportunity of a lifetime! To finally be free to fight, run, and do something truly useful. But she was a woman, and so she went home, sullen.
~
The next day, she woke before the sun to the noise of loud laughter. She slipped out of her nightclothes, and into her dress, and made her way to the dining room. Her brothers were all seated around the table, eating breakfast.
"Why are all of you up this early ?" asked Y/n. "I usually don't see you until the sun is high in the sky."
"See little sister, we're about to become important", said Albert, the oldest.
"We're joining the Round Table," Jim exclaimed excitedly.
"All things that you'll never get to do," completed her youngest brother, Jess. "The closest you might get to joining the Round Table is by cooking for them!"
