Hopelessly Devoted ~ Garroth x F!Reader

Ch. 1: All Moved In

A/N: This story is under intense editing. It's missing some chapters at the moment, but I'm doing my best to rewrite them behind the scenes! I do encourage you to continue reading after this first chunk, though, because that's when it gets spicy (if you're a freak).

          DOUBLE A/N: I wrote this before my frontal lobe developed I'm so sorry i don't even remember what you're about to read

( ____  is where you fill in your name).
__________

It's indisputable—change is insatiate, society is insistent, and love is intoxicating. At least that's what you've extracted from village-hopping for five years straight. In the seemingly hopeless pursuit of reuniting with your Falcon Claw past, you had landed yourself in the bustling capital city of Phoenix Drop. The move took longer than you'd anticipated, which only added to your nerves. You know, having to arrange with the new Lord, then settle into a house, and on top of that, adjust to village life. But phew—that part was almost over now.

Now, you had some time to yourself, so you settled down in the corner of your living room with a good book. Aside from a worn out couch in the center, there wasn't much place else to recline and absorb the accommodations of the great indoors. You were self-aware of your lack of possessions and furniture; it was intentional. After moving so many times, packing only the bare essentials was more efficient.

A rumble of laughter disrupted your you-time, so you crept towards one of your only windows and peered through it. Children were at play, chasing each other with their sticky, greasy fingers. You slid the glass panel down and pulled the curtains together.

Just when you thought you could calm down, maybe take a nap or something, there was a firm knock at the front door. Great, you groaned. This is what you got for transferring to the heart of a bustling town.

On the other side of your front door was a guard, full on armor and helmet—the whole shebang. His erect posture implied that he was stern and uptight, although his tarnished armor told another story. It presented a large black cross on a white cloth background, with silver chainmail fitted around the toned muscles on his arms and abdomen. Aside from his set jawline, he had no easily discernible facial features that weren't masked by the shadow under his helmet's front opening.

You blinked, sizing him up again. There must have been some mistake for a full-on knight to be dropping by. "Oh, is something wrong?" you asked innocently, nonetheless intimidated.

The guard cleared his throat. "The Lord sent me to give you an official tour of the village. I'm Sir Garroth."

Now that he spoke, you vaguely recalled meeting him before. He was one of the men who helped you move boxes. At least, you were fairly sure he was.

"A tour? Right now?" You weren't exactly mentally or emotionally prepared to leave the house yet this morning.

"We can schedule for another day if you'd like," he offered.

"Yeah . . . Let's do that. It was nice meeting you!" You pressed on the door to shut it, but the guard propped his arm in the way of it closing.

"Miss," he objected. "The Lord has also requested your presence in her home as soon as you're available."

"Um, alright." You shoved your hands into your pockets, not looking forward to the amount of plans with strangers that were racking up.

He nodded his armored head. "Miss-?"

"____." You rocked on your heels in impatience.

"Miss ____," he confirmed. "I'm sure we'll meet again."

"I don't really know, Sir Gar—" you paused and bit your tongue. He must've mentioned his name earlier, but it was all a blur. At this point, you were in so deep that you took the stab anyway. "Garage?"