A/N: Hey there! This is sort of an experiment. I don't know if people like the idea of this fic, but I won't know until I put it out there. I know I shouldn't be working on this when I've got two other fics going, but I was listening to Two Steps From Hell and suddenly Fantasylock plot bunnies started hopping around in my brain. I simply had to get them out. Anyway, please read and let me know if you like it.
Chapter 1: The Knight
The first beams of Spring sunlight spilled over the tops of the trees as a young brunette woman arrived in a small town. The people had just begun to stir and the merchants were quietly setting up shop in the marketplace. The townsfolk were quick risers, for by the time the woman had reached the square, they were up and bustling with preparations for the day. Delicious smells wafted from the bakery down the road. She looked up as a tavern window overlooking the street opened and an old woman leaned out.
"Good morning, Molly dear!" she greeted with a warm smile.
"Good morning!" Molly returned cheerily with a wave. Several other townspeople greeted her with a similar friendliness as she headed for her apothecary.
"Molly!" the baker called as she passed. "Could you hold some of those lovely tea leaves for me? I can't come by and get any until this evening." She gave him a smile and a nod before unlocking the door of the apothecary. Stepping into the building, she began her routine of opening up her business for the day. She was the town healer, but she lived in the forest for her own reasons, which she did not like to discuss with others. People thought all she did was work with special plants to treat ailments, but she was so much more. She, like the rest of her long dead family, was gifted in the healing techniques of the Old Ways. That is to say, she used medicinal magic. It was something she tried to keep a secret due to the Old Ways being far from popular in recent years. Villagers would tell their children that if they did not behave, a sorcerer would come from deep in the forest and snatch them away. Once, Molly heard rumors that there were people called wizards, who were like sorcerers, but never used their magic to do bad things. Most people said these were myths and all people who knew that much magic were selfish, evil beings.
Molly didn't let that hinder her daydreams about wizards as she pulled the curtains open on the little windows of her apothecary and began arranging the jars on her shelves. Often, she fantasized about a handsome wizard coming and taking her away to a place where she did not have to constantly fear being burned for using magic. They would have beautiful magical babies and live happily to the end of their days. She was too caught up in her thoughts to notice the tall, black cloaked figure walking through the front door. When she did see him, she gasped and nearly jumped.
"H-Hello! How may I, um, help you?" Molly managed to say. The man reached up and lowered his hood to reveal the most beautiful face she had seen in her entire life. This man had luscious raven curls atop his head that seemed even darker against his alabaster skin. His sharp cheekbones and full lips made her blush just looking at them and his eyes were a pair of silvery blue orbs that screamed of an enigmatic intelligence. This thorough analysis and more flashed through Molly's mind and culminated in one coherent thought: she would have this man's children if he asked.
"I require a few items that I hear you possess." he said and the moment the word left his mouth sounding as smooth and rich as butter, Molly knew she was smitten. Not only was he physically attractive, but despite being a first time customer, he had not asked her where her husband was. He knew she was the healer and seemed totally unphased by it.
"R-Right, erm...and those are?" She fumbled over her words and mentally reprimanded herself for making herself look like an idiot.
"Belladonna and henbane or hemlock. Either will do." the man replied unabashedly. Molly stared at him in disbelief, instantly regaining her composure out of annoyance. What kind of man asked to buy those from a healer?
"I'm sorry, but I don't have any of those. This is an apothecary, not the black market." she said indignantly, feeling a little offended.
"Lying to me is not going to get you anywhere." Molly gasped at this and her eyes grew wide as the man came much closer to her, making it clear just how tall he was. He quirked an eyebrow as he looked down at her in slight amusement. The healer found herself reverting back to her flustered state from before.
"I-I-I just...I don't...those are very dangerous...and...I don't...I won't sell them." For a moment, the man just looked down at her, as if he was thinking thoroughly about his response. She took the time to try and quash her nerves.
"Molly, I think you misunderstand my intentions."
"Who are you? How do you know my name?" she demanded, although it came out less forceful, more frightened.
"I am Sir Sherlock. I can see by your vacant expression that you were not informed of my presence here. The King sent me." There was no hint of reverence in the way he said 'king'. "I asked the innkeeper about the local apothecary last evening when I arrived. She said and I quote 'Oh, it's run but Molly down the road. Lovely young woman, that one. Kind. She'll get you anything you need.' You wouldn't want her to be wrong now, would you?" It didn't take long for this man to switch back from cold to charming when he saw the shocked and terrified look on her face. She clearly had thought he was one of those nobles who was caught up in a petty power struggle and was looking to poison the opposition. He fought the urge to scoff and roll his eyes. "I am not an assassin."
"What would a knight want with herbs, then?"
"Curiosity." This caught the young woman by surprise. "I assure you my intentions are entirely scholarly." It took a moment for Molly to find words with which to reply, blushing madly when she finally did.
"I-I've never met anyone else like that before." This brought a smirk to Sherlock's face and a low rumble of laughter escaped him. It had Molly's heart racing.
"Very few people have. I see you fancy yourself a scholar as well." His gaze swept the room, taking in every jar, pot, bag, and tool. "A bit risky for a young female healer, don't you think? People might start thinking your a-" Panic erupted in Molly's mind and she interrupted the knight before he could say another word.
"I-I just want to know e-everything I can t-to help people!" she blurted out. The knowing look Sherlock was giving her was terrifying. What if he could tell she was of the Old Ways? He could already understand a lot about her just by looking around. How much did he know but wasn't saying? Suddenly, Molly felt naked under his hawk-like blue gaze. "I'll...I'll just go and get those things you wanted!" With that, she scurried into the back room, closing the door behind her and taking a moment to calm herself. A few deep breaths later, she took some cloth and string and made three little bags with the herbs Sherlock had requested (she couldn't decide whether to give him henbane or hemlock as she had both). Once she was done, she turned around to see the man's lanky, dark form observing her from the doorway. She opened her mouth to scream in fright, but he was over to her in less than a second to cover her mouth with his black gloved hand.
"Don't. It's irritating and I would rather not have to deal with inquisitive townsfolk." Sherlock warned before stepping away from her.
"Well, if you hadn't been creeping in the doorway, there wouldn't have been cause for alarm. You're not supposed to be in here anyway." Molly hissed and then promptly turned bright red upon realizing what she'd just said, and to a nobleman no less. "I am so sorry! I just...I..." The woman apologized profusely, but Sherlock did not seem at all offended. If anything, he was intrigued and even a little amused.
"Stop apologizing. It's more demeaning than what you're apologizing for." This left the healer speechless. Taking the three small bags from her hands, Sherlock reached into his cloak and drew out a moderately sized coin purse and dropped into her palm. It was heavy with gold and Molly gaped. It was far beyond what she had been prepared to ask for the dangerous plants. Why would he do this? He clearly wasn't a kind and charitable person. Was it a bribe? For what? Whatever reason he had, she simply couldn't take the extra money.
"Sir, this is much more than those herbs are worth. I can't accept-"
"It's an investment." Sherlock drawled before she could get all her words out. Without an explanation or even so much as a goodbye, he strode out of the apothecary and Molly watched as he mounted his black horse and trotted off down the street. She gazed at his retreating form with the expression of a teenaged girl who'd just seen a prince pass by. He was the most unique man she had ever met and there was something about him that made her trust him. Sure, he was rude. Sure, he might know what she was, but he was oh so intelligent and oh so handsome. She heard a sigh and only after a moment did she realize it came from her. Quickly, she went back inside the building, hoping no one had seen that display.
It would not be the last time Molly would see Sir Sherlock. In fact, it was the first of many to come, though she did not know it yet.
Each time the rude knight would come to see Molly, he would always request unusual things and they were more often than not very potent and potentially lethal. She always did as he asked. Whenever he was in a good mood, he paid her too much (despite her protests). She'd been able to buy herself a new tools. Sherlock once told her that she should have spent some of her extra money on a new dress, but then later inadvertently made up for it by commending her for finally replacing her tools. After each one of his visits, Molly fell more and more in love with him and found herself looking forward to seeing him, even though he practically treated her like his servant.
By the time Spring had passed into Summer, Sherlock had begun sharing with her details of what he did in the area. This was the last little town before the main road went into the mountains, on the other side of which lay the capital city and the royal palace. It was apparently Sir Sherlock's job to make sure nothing threatening passed through and he dealt with things like murder and theft in the town. People felt more comfortable being out after dark when they knew the knight was about (though many people weren't fond of him- he was rude to everyone). Killers and thieves feared him and that made the healer love him more.
One particularly dark night, after Molly had spent all day in town caring for those who had fallen ill due to the latest sickness passing through, she stepped out of a family's house and into the darkness. No moon illuminated the sky and she took a deep breath, hoping that no one sketchy was prowling around the paths she usually took back to her home in the forest. As she pulled up the hood of her white cloak (well, it was more gray now due to wear and tear), she heard the clip-clop of hooves and turned to see Sherlock emerge from the shadows astride his horse. He wore an expression of agitation as he looked down at her.
"Tonight is a particularly bad night to be out late, Molly. You toil over the sick and wounded far too much for your own good. You should have gone home by now, foolish woman." he scolded and she frowned. Why was it so bad that she put others above herself?
"What's out there tonight that I should be more frightened of than usual?" she asked.
"I've received word that a group of bandits has been making its way south and will pass through here tonight. I was planning on tracking them down." He paused to dismount. "So unless you fancy a traumatizing experience or death, I suggest you come with me." He gestured towards his steed and she gaped. "Come on. Up you get. I do not have all night to do this." he added impatiently. Molly quickly hoisted herself up onto the dark creature. Sherlock took its reins in one hand and began guiding it down the road towards the forest. His other hand rested on the hilt off his sword. Molly made no attempt at small talk. The knight detested that sort of thing and they both knew it was really not something she was good at anyway. Besides, it was probably for the better that they stayed as quiet as possible. Soon, they were out of town and passing into the forest. They went off the road and Molly was nearly whacked by low branches a couple of times. Not far for her home, they stopped and she could make out Sherlock glancing around. She was about to ask him what was wrong, but then he called out into the night. "I know you're there. You can't deceive me. Leave this place and I might spare your lives." Now the healer could see other figures moving in the dark between the trees. Sudden fear gripped her and she had to stop herself from letting out a whimper. She felt a warm hand grab her own and carefully pull her down from the horse. It helped stave off some of her panic to know it was Sherlock standing so near to her. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "Take off your cloak and use that dagger I know you have stowed in your boot. Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand. If you do, I won't be able to protect you, do you understand?"
"Yes." Molly replied with barely a sound, still blushing despite the situation (it was the only reason she was glad for the darkness). She did as he instructed and he drew his sword.
"This is your last chance. Leave. I shall not warn you again." the knight called and they heard laughter from the approaching figures.
"What chance have you, one against eight?" a gruff voice called back and Molly tightened her grip on Sherlock's hand.
"Don't discount the woman. It's two against eight and I find those odds more than favorable." Sherlock sneered. The woman beside him was terrified, however. What was he playing at? Two against eight? They were going to die for sure! He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as if to say 'calm down, you silly girl, everything will be fine'. Then there came the sounds of blades clashing together and Molly's heart started racing even more than it already was. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bandit move to slash at her and without even thinking, she stepped out of the way. Everything started happening so fast and she could barely see, but she somehow managed to dodge every attack. Her main concern was keeping hold of Sherlock's hand. She could smell blood and hear cries of agony, and then it was all over. The forest was silent again but for the sound of her heavy breathing and pounding heart. "You can let go now." Molly let go and immediately missed the warmth and comfort it had given her. Sherlock sheathed his sword and handed her her cloak back. "Get back on my horse and go ahead. I'll catch up in the moment, I just need to deal with the bodies here." Despite the uneasiness these words brought her, Molly shakily did as she was told.
Molly never expected to have a knight sitting at her table, but here she was, making tea for one in her home. She needed something to steady her nerves after what she'd just been through in the forest and Sir Sherlock didn't seem to mind sticking around for a cup.
"Thank you for taking me home. I don't want to think about what would have happened to me if I'd run into those men alone." she told him, beaming at him as she handed him a cup of tea. He took a sip, quirked an eyebrow, and replied.
"I could hardly let something happen to that town's greatest asset, now could I?"
"I-I'm their greatest asset?!" Molly sputtered, eyes wide, cheeks red. Why was Sir Sherlock being so kind and flattering today? Did he want something from her? She'd learned he only said nice things to manipulate her, but what could he possibly want?
"Obviously. Not only are you a skilled healer, in fact the most competent healer I've come into contact with, but just now you proved that you are able keep your head in an incredibly dangerous situation. You listened to me. You passed the first part of the test." Ah, there it was, the dent in the armor. This was some sort of test.
"Test? Test for what?" Sherlock said nothing in response and only grinned. Deciding it was best not to pry and just wait for the moment when he'd reveal what he meant, Molly sipped her tea. No need to spoil this man's good mood (though how he could be so delighted after what had just happened to them was beyond her) as she thoroughly enjoyed that charming smile of his. In fact, it was almost as if she lived for it these days. When had he become the center piece of her life? "Thank you again for saving me. If you...if you want...you can rest here till morning." she spoke up after a while of watching him sitting in his chair with his hands together under his chin.
"Hm, stay in this sad excuse for a house?" And there went Sir Charming and in came Sir Tactless. Oh, well, Molly had been around this man long enough to know she couldn't have one without the other, and he was right (as always). Her home was small, poorly built, and a bit of an eye sore. Nothing like she was sure a nobleman was used to. "However, I don't feel like moving at the moment and you did just prove yourself somewhat worthy of my time, so I shall take you up on your offer." That was a little better. It was backhanded, but it was something.
Molly fell asleep thinking about how a knight was sitting ten feet from her bed, a knight with whom she had a hopeless infatuation. She knew it was pointless. Nobles didn't marry peasants and besides that, he didn't strike her as the romantic type. Still, she hoped and dreamed. She got to wondering why he seemed to drop so many hints that he knew that she was of the Old Ways and yet never made any indication that he would reveal it to anyone. She wanted it to be because he secretly genuinely liked her, but she knew it was because without her, he would have to go elsewhere for the things she provided and that would make his research more difficult than he liked. She was a tool to him and nothing more.
When she woke in the morning, he was gone, though there was a piece of parchment on the table that read in the ancient script of her people, 'I find it very interesting that you can read. I find it even more interesting that you can read this in particular.' Below the words was a blue magic seal that glowed at her touch. The parchment suddenly caught fire and burned to ashes in seconds. Molly's heart thundered away in her chest as she came to understand in that moment what Sir Sherlock was and what that meant for her.
A/N: So, what do you think? Worth continuing? Shitty? Please let me know. Each and every review means a lot to me. Thank you! ~T.Z.
