for an anonymous request: 46, crave + mystwalker, please (:

notes: ah! i haven't written mystwalker in a very long time! thank you for requesting this!


If there's one thing that Knightwalker despises more than the undeservingly-crowned King himself, it's that she absolutely hates that she is still jealous of his riches.

She swallows thickly as the smell of meat and other savory foods reaches her nose. She keeps her eyes focused on a single brick on the wall directly across from her, counting to twenty forwards and backwards. Every now and then a puff of steam whisks into her vision, floating in as a serpentine trail of delicious and aromatic herbs would.

She blinks, wishing it out of her sight. She blinks, but finds her eyes slowly following the steam trail back to its origin...

The King is having a glorious meal, complete with hams and gravies of all different kinds. There is a full basket of bread off to the side, plenty of cheese and fruits, and a couple large soup bowls filled with thick hearty chowder. Towards the end of the table lies a fresh pie — apple, she can smell it from all the way where she is — and plenty of bottles of unopened wine bottles just waiting to be tried out.

He is eating voraciously, and she doesn't blame him. She watches him masticate one, two, three times, before she rips her eyes away from the dinner table.

Her eyes are back on the brick on the wall, but she can still very clearly see remnants of the seasoned oil on his lips — and oh, how she absolutely hates that she is craving.

She swallows once more, trying to separate herself from her wants from her needs.

She reminds herself that she hates everything royal — it's why the oh-so-high-and-mighty rulers need bodyguards like her to stand beside them all day — because they've turned so soft that they can't even fend for themselves.

She reminds herself that she'd rather suffer a little bit rather than lie comfortably in a reclined seat, because she firmly believes it so much more worth it to work for her earnings than to just sit and receive them.

She reminds herself that she will never give in to —

Her stomach growls.

It's now when she feels immensely dissatisfied with herself.

The soft sound of chewing from the King stops, and although she hasn't taken her eyes off that damned brick on the opposite side of the room, she can tell that he's turned his head towards her and she can absolutely tell that he is looking her up and down and smirking.

"Craving something, Captain?"


thir13enth