The Unseen Army (Gilan x Reader)

The Feeling That Never Leaves

Out of sheer frustration, Gilan wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his saxe knife and tried to draw a steady breath. The cool breeze of the evening brushed over his features and a chill ran down his spine. It was finally the turn of winter. And while he normally eagerly awaited the first snowfall, this year he shied away at the thought of long, cold nights.

He was frustrated with Halt and his strict, routine ways. He was tired of the days all being the same. Above all else, he was angry with himself for the emotions he was finding himself so consumed by for seemingly no reason.

It was a strange kind of loneliness that often led to a rage which he fought to keep buried deep inside. Rangers weren't supposed to feel lonely. And they were supposed to be able to control the emotions which gnawed at them. That was their way of life. And even if they did feel lonely, they were supposed to find a way to mask it. Halt kept telling him that one day, his mind and body would accept it. That the loneliness never really left, but that once deprived long enough, the soul would give way to acceptance. Gilan though, found his soul to be quite determined to hang on to always wanting something it knew it couldn't have.

Somewhere behind him, a single branch snapped. It had been hardly audible. Whether it had been due to the breeze or something being out in the woods behind him, he wasn't sure. But he wasn't taking any chances. Gilan whirled around with the ease that only came from practicing long hours and let his saxe knife sail in the direction from which the noise had come from. He wasn't so impulsive that he sent his knife right in the direction of the snapping branch. Instead, he sent it just a little to the left. Because in the situation someone or something was there, he only hoped to startle them. Nothing more.

For a brief moment, as the rush of adrenaline made its way through him, Gilan stood with his arm still outstretched, panting.

When his vision came into focus and he straightened up, Gilan questioned if he really was seeing clearly. There, across the clearing of the meadow and slightly into the tree line, was a person. It was hard to make out their features in the dark, but it certainly wasn't Halt nor was it someone Gilan recognized the frame of.

Gilan, of all people, was extremely good at remembering faces. He was friendly and outgoing and it hadn't taken long for him to meet nearly everyone in Redmont and the surrounding area. This person was one he immediately noted as a stranger he'd never met before. For Gilan, strangers once brought nothing but excitement. Now, as a Ranger, he still felt the wave of joy rush through him but beneath it was always a thread of doubt. As a Ranger, people now had a reason to want to harm him.

Standing there as still as one of the tress, the person stared right back at Gilan in the dying light. They tilt their head a little and slowly seemed to loosen up seeing that he wasn't immediately drawing for another weapon.

"Hello?" Gilan called out. The longer he waited for an answer, the more he itched to reach for the hilt of his sword. But he tried to trust his gut which told him that this person was no threat and that drawing his sword would only cause them to run away.

"...Can I help you?" He called out again.

From in the forest, the person began to make their way into the clearing. Within a few moments, they just barely stepped into the meadow and pulled back their hood. The motion revealed a girl with messy hair after days of travel and deep, Y/E/C eyes.

Though his heart was often calm and centred, the sight of her sent it thudding in his chest a little harder than normal. She'd caught him off guard as she certainly hadn't been what he was expecting. Even though he wasn't sure what he had been expecting.

He watched as the girl tugged the saxe knife out of the tree beside her and began walking for Gilan. It seemed like forever to Gilan as she crossed the meadow towards him. But it was a comforting kind of desolated moment. He admired her carefully placed and silent steps over the frosted grass and her hair that danced across her features in the slight breeze.