In typical childlike fashion, there was a ti when Irene kneeling against a bed wasn’t the most comfortable position to sleep in, so she allowed herself to fall onto the expansive rug that covered the floor of the guest room.
It took one roll to her side and curling into a ball before she was comfortable enough to doze off once more.
ntal and physical exhaustion combined took her out for hours and she didn’t even recognize how cold she was. Luckily, she wasn’t at an age in her life where she had to be careful with herself while sleeping or she would wake with a stiff neck or back.
The girl only stirred once more when warmth enveloped her and she was suddenly much more comfortable than before.
Throughout the entire Duke’s Tower, not much sleeping happened as the knights carried on well into the night, trying to handle the goblin and ogre bodies before they were allowed to rest. Even Felix was caught up with having to take a wagon to the battlefield and retrieve weapons that weren’t damaged that the goblins had likely stolen from them in the first place at one point.
When Sir Gunnar returned, he decided to do what he had been putting off forever. The man washed himself off and got into new clothing. He then went back to the Duke’s Tower and he made his way to the guest room where Sir Arthur lay, healing from his injuries.
As the seasoned knight stood at the door, his hand grabbed the handle but he didn’t make much more movent than that for a long ti.
With all of the alarming monster appearances, Sir Arthur was not only a dear friend but a beacon of light. The man’s positivity was infectious and, despite all the bad they had faced, he sohow remained positive. No one knew his secret for optimism—a few suspected it might be his family that was safe and far away from the ss of monsters that the Duke’s Tower seed to guard.
Whatever it may be, Gunnar needed Arthur more than ever before, but he wouldn’t bla the man if he never smiled again.
Gunnar finally gained the courage to open the door and in the slowly dying candelabra on the bedside table, Gunnar saw the stump of an arm left over and he clenched his jaw.
It seed like a bird that had had its wings clipped and was no longer allowed to fly. What was a knight without their dominant arm?
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room which was even darker than the hallway he had just co from, Gunnar realized Arthur wasn’t the only one in the room and he briskly walked forward.
He pulled a blanket out of a trunk and quickly covered Irene who must have fallen asleep on the floor after watching over her father.
"You did a good job," Gunnar uttered to the apprentice.
He then lifted her up and brought her to a couch that was along the far side of the room and closer to the fireplace and desk that was offered to more esteed guests who were allowed to use the Duke’s personal wing when they visited.
For a few monts, Gunnar stared at the girl and he felt such misery. No one should have to witness anyone go through that from such a young age, especially not the person’s child.
From the mont he saw Iro in the Duke’s Tower being recomnded as an apprentice, he knew that there would be a lot of hurt in that child’s life and he didn’t know if she would ever be ready for it.
However, she had held together so much more than he ever gave her credit for. Even at that mont, Irene was still trying to find ways to be strong and steadfast in the face of such horrors.
The knight then went to see Arthur. He sat down in a chair that he pulled closer to the bed and let out a practically silent sigh once he was settled.
The misery was certainly there, but what struck Gunnar the most was the anger that surged through him at the sight of the best knight incapacitated. Would the man ever be a knight again? Could he train his left arm to do as well as his right?
In the battle to try and gain control of the knighthood even though the Commander was utterly useless in objectiveness, Arthur listened to everything he said. Each worry they shared and each idea was listened to and cherished between them.
Gunnar wasn’t so sure he would be able to do it without the man if he, God forbid, decided he couldn’t be part of that life anymore.
The man then turned and glanced at the child who slept soundly.
"God dammit," Gunnar uttered and stood up. "At least you left behind soone nearly as good as you are."
It wasn’t in strength that he thought the apprentice was like her father, but grit and determination that Arthur had been showing every second from the first day the two t each other.
Gunnar left the room, suddenly feeling less exhausted. He decided to go to the dining hall for so ale. If he couldn’t go to sleep on his own, at least he could force himself with a bit of liquid aid.
After what had happened, Irene slept for a long ti and even the morning sun wasn’t enough to wake her up despite the curtains in the room being drawn.
Under Sir Gunnar’s request, no one dared bother the room until there were signs that they were awake or calling for help.
However, what did wake up was a shuffling noise and coughing from the other side of the room. When she opened her eyes and sat up abruptly, she hardly recognized her surroundings. Her heart raced for a mont before she realized the movent she stared at was her father waking up for the first ti since he was put under a sleeping spell. Just like her, the spell didn’t last the entire day as it was supposed to, but it was such a relief to see the man stirring that she didn’t care about any of that and rushed to her father.
"Dad!"
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