Legends of Irene (Garroth x Reader) | Aphmau Fanfiction| UNDER IMMENSE EDITING

Your Highness

The past three weeks made Garroth remember why he'd left O'Khasis all those years ago in the first place.

The first week-and-a-half had been okay. Garroth just spent his time in the castle's infirmary for the most part. He'd look out the window, admiring the bustle of citizens, careful not to lean too forward against the window sill and risk re-opening the stitches of his stab wound (which he still hadn't remembered getting).

He liked to stare into space, pondering what you might be doing. Where you may think he'd be. Did you know he was gone? 

...Did you care?

'Of course, she cares,' Garroth had thought with a shake of his head. He couldn't deny that he missed you (he wouldn't even try to), neither could help but think of your safety. Were you still on the island? Or had you also been washed up on the shore of a familiar village?

He hoped not. The mere prospect was incredibly tough for him to think about.

His mother would pop in with a bowl of soup in hand to check on him every single day; either by herself or with her handmaiden, whose name he later learned was Aerith. She'd been the same auburn-haired lady he'd first woken up to hearing when he'd first arrived. She seemed to be about his age, her face youthful and rather shy. He didn't remember her for obvious reasons; Garroth guessed she was new.

"Oh, darling, just you wait! As soon as you're all better, we'll invite the entire village for a feast!" Zianna's blue eyes glinted as she had looked back at him. "And after that, we'll find you a wonderful woman before your coronation, hmm?" Garroth had swallowed thickly, letting out a wry smile before returning his attention back to his soup.

He hoped she was joking.

Other times he'd be tended to by the royal infirmative staff. Every two days, the head nurse, Ms. Maisel—who's age had clearly caught up to her since the last he'd seen of her—would help him change his wrap-around bandages and clean his wound, even though he'd constantly insist that he was fully capable of doing it himself. She'd simply flash a sweet smile before saying:

"Oh, you haven't changed one bit! Let me help you, Your Highness." She'd say it with an airy chuckle before proceeding to finish the job. The words 'Your Highness' made him feel rather...uncomfortable. But it had only been the first week of his stay in O'Khasis. He'd give everyone and everything the benefit of the doubt in hopes that the next week would be a bit more tolerable (as there was clearly no way he'd be able to leave anytime soon).

Oh, how wrong he'd been.

The second week rolled around and Ms. Maisel suggested that Garroth start his rehabilitation process, which made sense to him. The sooner he got back to his feet, the better his chances of leaving this place.

"I don't understand why I need to be accompanied around the castle, mother," Garroth had tried to argue softly with a shake of his head. "Perhaps to show me around the castle once, but afterwards, I'll be fine on my own." Zianna had shaken her head, a smile on her lips.

"Darling, I just want you to be safe..." She placed a hand on Garroth's shoulder, nodding her head as though she were trying to convince him to believe her. He didn't, of course. He knew the real reason she was making sure he was never out of sight.

She was afraid he'd leave again. And he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been planning to.

And so, the arrangements were as such: every morning and afternoon, Aerith, his mother's handmaiden, would knock on the infirmary door to fetch for Garroth. From there, she'd loosely follow him around the castle; try to make him feel as though she hadn't been ordered by his mother to keep an eye on him at all times. It made Garroth want to deadpan.