Knight Call

by Hat_Snake

Summary:

A troubled Knight is sent to a land far away and is greeted by beasts he'd never dreamed.

Gawain is a Knight Bachelor in the middle of a great war, his only mindset staying alive and keeping those around him safe as he can. After a tumultuous final push, his actions send him to what he believes to be his immediate demise.

Delilah is nothing more than a humble construction worker trying to make ends meet and move on from past mistakes. One night call to a club by her closest friend may very well give her the chance at something far more than she could've anticipated.

Chapter 1: It's Dark, But Have No Fear

Notes:

Apologies if this one is a bit rough around the edges!
This idea has been beating around in my head for a while now, and I wanted to give it a fair shake while working on my other story.
Don't know how often it'll be updated, but I'll try and keep up with it as I have my other one, though perhaps a bit more off and on as time allows.
Rating and tags may change as time goes on, edits and such will also happen as they can!

The fire warmed his boots against the evening’s bite, snow falling around him reminding of the seasons that’d passed since he arrived in this field of war. Gawain never thought this is where his life would have taken him. Only a scant few years ago he was shoveling manure from stalls around the nobleman’s castle and by pure happenstance he was now standing amongst the dwindling comrades he’d made. His vision traveled from the fire to the various beddings made from straw packed blankets, shoulder packs and waist bags for pillows with naught more than worn tabards as their sole cover. Not a single man slept soundly, each tossing and turning in their equipment. He had taken first watch, knowing he’d be unable to sleep until exhaustion took him. The nightmares and cursed dreams he now had made sure of that.

A year and a half ago he had been a humble stableman, the ripe age of twenty-five, eager to find a woman to marry. He longed for those days of his lowered position in life. The simplicity he had of simply shoveling muck, throwing bales of hay and brushing the great beasts of burden he’d learned to adore. It was a good life, a simple one. And like a fool, he’d thrown it away for the chance to take a noble woman’s hand.

The coming war had forced the lord’s hand into offering whatever he could to garner all of the able bodied men he could, from silver and gold, to horses and cows, even offering his daughter’s hand to the soldier who could make a name for himself. All one desperate gambit to steal away the youth and able bodied men he could for a war they didn’t want to be a part of. And it worked.

Jakob, Geoff and himself had all signed up. They’d been given training, basic as it was, rudimentary equipment and then sent off to die in the mud and muck. Jakob had been the first to fall. Arrows had blotted the sun and pinned him to the ground. He looked like a mother’s pincushion and the shock on his face still lingered in Gawain’s mind. Geoff went soon after that, losing his life to a cavalry man who’d speared him in a charge and dragged him off into the fray never to be seen again. Gawain had only survived this hell because of his sturdy constitution and his impenetrable want to survive.

Swords clashed, spears thrusted, men died and bodies piled, and Gawain always managed to keep his head above the masses. He had a habit of trying to save the men beside him in the same, earning him the nickname among the troop of ‘Gawain the Pilgrim’, as he always managed to guide whoever followed him to some level of survival. Not without injury, most of the time, but usually without any deaths. He had unintentionally saved the nobleman who had been leading the charge this way and earned him some modicum of prestige because of it. Enough that he’d become a Knight Bachelor by order of the same nobleman and was given a spare suit of armor from a former fallen knight. 

It fit him well enough and he was thankful for the upgrade to his equipment. But it now came with even more duties he’d not been ready to have. In this particular case, he’d been given command over a small contingent of eight men, all of which slept soundly around him. Their job was to look out for subterfuge and ambushes, the same way every night since the latest battle. Their enemy was the barbarians of the north, coming down from the mountains in accompaniment with witches and shamans. He hadn’t a clue how their foul magicks worked and he had a feeling he didn’t want to know. Sorcery was never something he wanted to be involved with and yet it seemed to pervade this war more than the mud that clung to his boots.

The thought brought himself back for a moment, reaching behind his scaled breastplate to produce a tarnished copper amulet. It had a piece of amber, polished and round, seated in the greening metal. A gift. A show of thanks by one of the many soldiers he’d saved, telling him that he’d stolen it from a shaman’s corpse. He said it must’ve been magic, the way the shaman had screamed and wailed when he had taken it.

Drivel. He thought. But it still was pretty, at least, and a trophy in its own right. He tucked it back away into the plate as he heard a rustling. He stood, grabbing his longsword by its scabbard and instantly drawing the blade. The sheath was discarded as he faced the noise, watching intently. Trees shuddered and shifted, Gawain preparing to roar to life were it anything but his allies returning from scouting. He barked a small command into the bushes and trees.

“Show yourself!” The movement stopped momentarily before it slowly resumed, approaching closer and closer. His eyes narrowed, his grip tightened and his breathing hitched. Then a small black nose peeked from the foliage, followed by the ashy gray body of the lithe timberwolf that’d been following him for the better half of this year. A breath escaped him as he quietly grabbed his scabbard and sheathed his blade. “It is just you, Alba. You gave me a fright, you know that?” 

His voice lowered and he squatted down, gauntlets waving the canine over. It happily trotted over to him, giving him a tender nosing under his helmet as his hands came to greet it. He had to be careful, not wanting to pinch or tug some fur as he gave the great beast some affection. Despite its smaller nature, it still came up to his hip and could easily give him trouble if it decided to become hostile. Not that he ever thought she would. Alba had saved him more times than he could count, as he had saved her.

The wolf licked at his hands before going to settle at his feet with a small thump of her rear to the snow. “I take it you didn’t find anything, then? Just went out and got yourself something to eat?” He asked, knowing well the answer by the small traces of blood around her muzzle. A soft bark was the reply. “Good, you need to keep your strength just as I do.... Tomorrow we go to war once again.”

He didn’t know why he even bothered speaking to the great creature, it wasn’t like she could truly understand him, even if he sometimes wondered if she was a druid in disguise with how intelligent she could be. That intelligence, along with the fact that the embossed symbols along his tabard and helm were that of a great wolf, and her tenacity were the only reasons he’d been permitted to keep her. Her presence on the battlefield often rallied men who followed after Gawain, the dog more agile than any man he’d ever seen and more deadly than any spear. The sheer number of twiggy shamans and witches Alba had devoured was starting to stack up to his own body count.

His hands came up and carefully rustled the wolf’s head, pulling his helmet from his head and shuffling the chainmail down enough so that he could fully take in the warmth of his companion. He had made a bad habit of burying his face into the fluff of the beast, oftentimes getting a pair of heavy paws on his shoulders as a result and far too many times being shoved over to be drenched in spit and whatever else had been on her tongue that day. It had always been a tradeoff he’d easily make, the sheer comfort of that silken fur and warmth it had made his nights so much easier to walk through. Her presence beside him at night even let him sleep without a single dream coming to haunt him. All things he was grateful for, when she decided to linger for it anyway. 

With her here now, his chest felt lighter. “Come on, girl, I’ll wake someone else for watch and we can sleep, how does that sound?” A soft yip followed. “Excellent!”

He put his helmet and chain back up, seating easily over the padded cap he wore. He was careful not to let the metal snag his wild beard that’d grown over. He’d need to approach a barber for a shave and some medicine soon, surely. But that was for later. For now, he was properly exhausted enough that he may very well get at least a few hours of sleep before the sun may rise. 

 

======

 

“Sir Gawain, what do we do!?” He heard the man behind him scream. He couldn’t place the name of who it was, the thunderous clashing of steel on steel, bone breaking and flesh tearing all too much for his care. Before him was a wide open space guarded by a group of bloodied barbarians, wielding great axes and round shields. They each were garbed in scavenged metal and animal pelts, wielding a viciousness that almost outweighed his courage to face them.

They were all guarding a trio of shamans who were incanting some spell he couldn’t understand while speaking some language that made his head ache.

Fire bubbled.

A massive, unyielding orb was manifesting between the shamans made of liquid flames that popped and burst at the seams. He didn’t need to have a scholarship to know that this was going to devastate wherever it landed, if that was even to land. For all he knew, this was some final grand slap in the face to the winning side of this war, to abolish all the lives who’d been fighting so hard for so long. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t allow it.

Alba snarled and snapped beside his heels, eyes pinpricks as she glared at the shamans, not even focusing on the men between her and them. He turned around me, panning briefly to take in the chaos surrounding him, seeing his small group of six men and Alba all largely ignored by the barbarians who pushed back against the constant tide of knights and men at arms. He felt his weak fingers refusing to let the blade go and not by choice as they’d stiffened to lock around the leather hilt. His legs felt like melted cheese and the scent of ichor and mud was nauseating. His arm came up before he thought about it.

The tip of his blade pointed at the snarling bestial men who guarded their foul enchanters. His voice, tired and bereft of any kind of emotion past hatred and desperation. “Kill them. Do not allow this to transpire.” He heaved into the air. He saw the hesitation. He saw the fear. And in a moment, he raised his blade up higher, turning to them. “If they finish their sorcery, we die anyway, you cowards! Fight! Fight on your feet! Die on your feet! And let the gods know as you pass on that you fought until the end!”

He didn’t wait for them to rally, pivoting and charging straight at the wall of barbarian warriors that would halt their advances. Gawain’s boots had to trample the dead men that came before him and the barbarians that fell taking them, his weight crunching down on metal helmets and armor of bone alike. Alba was right at his side, snarling and growling with each jaunting movement. He didn’t have more than perhaps half a minute before he’d greet them. Then the emboldening call of charging soldiers met his own stamping feet, spears peeking from his peripheral as he brought up his blade.

His vision went stark white as the weight of a shield striking helmet sent him spiraling to the floor. It wasn’t the first time he’d been struck in the head, much to his disappointment, so his recovery was quicker than he anticipated. An axe swung down to try and keep him on the floor, halted as he threw his sword up to clash against it. Metal bit into wood, cleaving the head off of the polearm and giving him enough time to scramble to his feet. He shifted unsteadily, woozy still from the blow to his head, but had enough balance to charge right at the fur wrapped man that toted a great shield. A large dagger-like blade had been drawn in place of the axe, swift and lashing.

The blade scraped across his armor, doing little as he moved forward and brought his sword to bear against the assailant. Blade met shield, sinking into the top half and only slightly splitting into the man’s shoulder. The barbarian roared, driving the dagger forward like a spear with enough force he feared it might actually puncture him, despite the breastplate. Gawain shifted to the right, letting go of the sword with one hand to grab at the man’s wrist. He yanked him forward towards him and brought his aching head forward to the wild man’s nose. He heard a sickening crunch as the forehead of his helmet broke bone and cartilage, along with the metal fin on his helmet slicing open the meat above his right eye.

Wailing came before Gawain repeated the action, not once but twice more, seeing stars by the end of it. The man was either dead or unconscious when he was finished, but it didn’t matter if he was down. He yanked his sword free of the shield and crammed it down into the bleeding barbarian’s throat, moving onto his next target. One more barbarian charged him with a two handed axe, roaring with reckless abandon. He was swiftly put to the floor as Alba came out of the fray, latching onto his leg and yanking hard enough the man fell to the ground only seconds later. He screamed in agony, trying to flip onto his stomach to fight back, But Alba wouldn’t allow him, dragging him across the muck and bodies to keep him flat on his belly.

Gawain didn’t wait, charging forward and grabbing the middle of his blade and wielding the whole of his sword as a spear to pin the wretched man to the floor. He gurgled some words he didn’t understand before Gawain yanked his blade free and stabbed him once more to silence him permanently. Dizziness set in fully, barely able to stay standing as he swayed in place. Alba whined almost inaudibly over the fray as he stood. He couldn’t give her the attention she deserved in that moment as he stood up straight.

“C’mon girl, only a little more...” He gasped, turning his attention towards the trio of Shamans who were largely unguarded now as their people were all occupied. He hefted his blade up into both hands, holding it down at his hip in a fool’s guard. It wasn’t ideal, but he had strength for little else, praising the heavens that the shamans were all wearing little more than strips of leather and pieces of cloth, bone masks covered in iridescent markings hiding away their features. He charged forward and roared simultaneously, hearing Alba’s heavy paws following close behind. “FOR DEMALA-”

He wasn’t able to finish the cry of his country as he watched one of the shamans, without so much as turning, flick their wrist in his direction. A blob of molten air was flung from the gargantuan orb straight at him. He could feel the heat despite the fair distance away from him. He couldn’t change his direction, he couldn’t force his feet to halt and drop to the floor. This was going to be it. And despite it, he felt at peace somehow. It would be a good death. Fighting for the life of his family back home, even if the start had been encouraged by lust and greed. His eyes almost closed to accept and embrace his death before it was shadowed by something familiar.

“ALBA, NO!” He cried, watching as the great grey wolf intercepted the immolating sphere, her upper half turning into the very ash her hide mimicked. He didn’t hear a cry, a yelp, he didn’t even get to see her loving eyes one last time. He was only seared by the impacting explosion and smattered with molten blood and ashened viscera. Everything shook. Everything went silent.

A ringing kept his ears, red filled his vision and his legs carried him with reckless absolution. Another orb of fire began to peel from the swelling mass, but he was too close now. Alba, trying to merely save him or with some greater mind, had given him this one single chance. He couldn’t even stop to mourn her, having to tread over her cauterized half and lunge at the nearest shaman. His sword skewered the twiggish shaman, raising her from the ground before he yanked his blade free and swung his arm against her falling, flailing body to send her tumbling away with a sickening crunch.

His body burned, everything ached and yet he’d never felt stronger. Pure unbridled rage powered his body, sending him forward as the other two Shamans began to struggle to maintain their spell, both raising hands to fling fire at his position. It was all too slow for them, his next strike coming around in an arching swing the near split the second in half, blade digging all the way to her spine. He could feel the metal reverberate as it met bone, shuddering as the edge caught and scraped against vertebrae on its retreat. The third raised her hands, hands starting to clench. He didn’t know or care what it meant, but his blade rose up all the same, swinging upward from a fool’s guard and cleaving from hip to tit in his last, agonizing strike that made his muscles wail in agony.

The shaman gasped several tight breaths as her hands slowly fell down, the heat above him starting to boil his shoulders and neck in his gambison. One hand came from his blade as he reared back a fist and screamed. “Thou shall take NOTHING MORE!”

His plated hand struck through the bone mask, shattering the old material. The flame above him began to rapidly sink, no longer held aloft by ancient tongue and wicked intent. Heat enveloped him for all but second before a second warmth radiated through his chest, piercing through his heart. It almost granted him peace in that moment as he felt the ball of fire land upon him. His only regret was that he didn’t go before his brave companion. 

 

======

 

The concert boomed with an aggravating tenacity, even from outside of the building. A headache had long been brewing for the humble dire wolf since arriving. She was here at the behest of a friend rather than as work, something she almost regretted. She hated this kind of public outing, finding the constant rubbing of people uncomfortable and wickedly annoying whenever her tail or paws were tread upon. The sound alone made her black and tan fur stand on end. A hand came up to rub her wheat gold eyes in hopes of somehow calming her building anxiety. “How did I get talked into this...?” She bemoaned, pads running down her muzzle as she pulled her face with it.

“Y’know, Delilah, if you tug on your schnoz like that, it’ll stay that way.” Said the diminutive form of the cheetah that’d walked around the corner. Delilah grunted, looking down at the spotted feline. She had a body like an athlete, as one might expect from her breed. Her small chest hidden behind a clinging orange gym top that almost blended into her fur and very well developed legs squeezed in a pair of blue spats that left extremely little to the eye. Curves to draw the eyes, no double. She stood just at Delilah’s middle at a solid five and a half feet. She had a shit eating grin on her face that reminded her of why she was here. “Y’know, you don’t have to look so glum for losing a bet, hun.”

“I’m not glum and I don’t care that I lost the bet.” The wolf grumbled, leaning off of the wall she’d been standing against. She smoothed out her outfit and gave it a once over to make sure she hadn’t soiled it somehow by leaning against this less than favorable building. A denim jacket that barely fit her covered up a simple brown long sleeve, both of which did wonders to push down the fluff of her mane and compress down to allow her modest chest some level of visibility. A pair of cargo shorts covered her ample digitigrade legs and hugged her hips in a way that’d easily draw the eyes if someone cared to look, though if she was being honest with herself it was just about the first place most people would see with her staggering nine foot height. That was, if her large sweeping tail didn’t knock them over first. 

“You know I fucking hate concerts, Lily. They hurt my ears, people step on my tail an-” Delilah began, a whine seeping into her voice.

“That’s why it’s a punishment, Delilah, we already agreed on this, no? Besides, I already thought ahead on this! Here.” The cheetah pulled out a set of ear plugs, squishy gel ones that were designed for anthros with larger ears. Delilah usually only saw rabbits or the like with these in. But they were better than nothing. Her great paw came down to take the offered protection, going to carefully pinch and insert them. Immediate discomfort came as the cool, almost wet in feeling, gel swelled to fill her ear and muffled everything around her. Just enough that she’d barely be able to pick up what Lily was saying. “Better already, right? Those are the good ones, just for you! I plan on dragging you to more of these in the future, so don’t lose’m, I ain’t buying more.”

Delilah grimaced. “Please, no more concerts, Lily. I already have enough to worry about with work.”

“Which is precisely why I’m bringing you here. It’s a good way to unwind! Get some drinks, meet a few fellas, see if you can’t score a husband before assignments eh?” The cheetah offered, digging her elbow into Delilah’s hip. The wolf groaned and raised a hand to rub her eyes. “Oh come on, it’s been three years, hun, you can’t keep getting bent out of shape because of one bad marriage.”

“It wasn’t just a ‘bad marriage’, Lily-!” Delilah started, hunching over to almost hiss out the words before a clawed finger was pressed to her snout, silencing her.

“Whatever you want to call it, Deli, you aren’t going to move past it unless you find yourself someone else, even if it’s just someone else to be miserable with.” She tutted, going to pull her hand back before taking the wolf’s hands in her own and starting to pull her inside. “Besides, this is a night to relax, even if you hate the music. Those ear plugs should make it all tolerable and if you want to just get wasted or whatever, be my guest. I, on the other hand, will be enjoying my evening to the fullest. Just be sure to tell me if you’re going to leave before me, hm? I’ll have my cell on me.” 

Delilah wilted but allowed herself to be dragged along. She hated old memories like that being dragged up out of nowhere, especially something like that . Her ears pinned to her head, causing a wrinkle of her nose as the gel squished within them. Quick enough they were allowed entry, a pair of VIP passes granting them access to the illustrious ‘Hare Raisers’, the newest in the up and coming metal bands. Delilah was a fan of the music just as much as the next lady, but the idea of coming and seeing them live left a pit in her stomach. They both maneuvered their ways through the ever thickening crowds until they arrived at a mix between a food stand and a bar tucked off to the side of the stage.

The music was already blasting over heavy speakers from every corner of the warehouse turned amphitheater, the vocalist throwing their heart into every gravely lyric they could get out. The ear plugs did the job well enough, but the still pounding bassy boom of drums and electronic percussion didn’t diminish as much as she hoped. It made her heart feel like it was going to stop if it didn’t adjust to the booming rhythm. Lily said something to her with a big grin, nothing she could actually hear between the ear plugs and the music pounding in her head. The cheetah quickly abandoned her at the bar, Delilah saying something that was quickly drowned out and leaving her to wilt in place. A sigh escaped her as she turned to the bartender, a somewhat handsome man in a white shirt and black vest, holding up two fingers and saying the word ‘Beer’ as loud as she could without outright yelling at the man.

He was likewise wearing hearing protection and gave her a sympathetic smile as the noise picked up again. She was passed a large frosted mug, filled to a foamy head and a spare beer slid beside it. He mouthed the amount to her and she slid a few bills from her wallet to him, along with a small tip. She was going to be getting more drinks as the night went on, so she didn’t want to tip too large and set an expectation. She took a seat on the stool and pulled her mug to her lips for a long cool sip. The majority of the building was packed from wall to wall, a handful of security guards and a few metal fences all that was keeping the literal waves of bystanders from surging the stage.

She had to squint to get a good look at the band. The singer was a dark brown bunny in black and white make up with an equally monotone get up of leather and spikes. The Guitarist and Bass player were both ferrets, as far as she could tell anyway, likewise wrapped up in single note dark outfits that barely registered as different to her eyes. If someone had told her they were twins, she’d have believed them. Finally a human was on the drums, wearing some kind of big ridiculous cartoony mask that was a vague approximation of a rabbit with a bent ear and Xs for eyes.

The whole outfit of musicians made Delilah shake her head, faces being put to the music somehow both emphasising and detracting from her enjoyment of the music, blaring as it was. The songs came and went as people watched in between sets, trying to find any sign of her wayward friend who’d dragged and promptly abandoned her at this venue. The second beer was popped and poured into her mug as the first was finished. Her size meant that a few of these wouldn’t really be enough to get her drunk, perhaps tipsy if she went past her usual four or five limit. Her eyes finally spotted a familiar spotted tail that was sandwiched between a pair of males in a moshpit, absolute delight on her face as her fangs showed through her massive smile.

It was an infectious energy that almost got Delilah to smile. Almost. She couldn’t understand the want to try and find someone in such a hectic environment, not that it was the worst place. She’d seen far far worse places in her life. Sadly, the sight of the horny grinding didn’t do her mind any favors either as she found herself abruptly chugging the freshly poured drink. She wiped her mouth, giving the bartender another quick tip and a muttered ‘thank you’ that was barely registered as she started to slip off. She needed a smoke.

Certain that her friend wouldn’t spot her leaving just yet, she slipped into the crowd and slightly crunched forward as if it’d hide her among the masses. There were a handful of larger and taller anthros around her, sure, but they were like trees on the plains, big, numerous but with enough space you could pick out each one individually. It didn’t matter to her as she shoved her way through groups and pairs until she managed to find her way through the blaring music and zombie-like crowds of concert goers. She met a security guard at the exit, a broad monitor lizard who raised an eyebrow at her. She produced a pack of cigarettes, wiggling them as an indicator before the lizard nodded her head back in understanding. She made a show of knocking on the door for when she wanted back in and Delilah nodded back. 

As she slipped out the din of blaring metal music and into the evening, blessed quiet greeted her. The ear plugs were pulled and paws came up to massage her poor ears, whining softly.

“God, how can she even stand these kinds of places....? How’re her ears not blown out?” Delilah grumbled, pulling out her cigarettes again and a lighter. However, something caught her attention as she placed it between her lips, the smell of smoke. Was someone else out here? Her eyes scanned the alleyway she’d walked into, spotting nothing more than black plastic sacks of garbage and a trio of dumpsters not too far from her. The smell persisted, however, and the longer she sniffed the more acrid it became. It smelled like just after a violent thunderstorm mixed with a bonfire that someone had thrown handfuls of fur and hair into.

It was all enough to crinkle her nose in distaste as she started to walk towards the scent, figuring it was some idiot lighting a shitty joint. It wasn’t any of her business, but that smell was putrid enough to make her want to tell whoever was making it to piss off.

She saw a small trail of smoke coming up from behind the last dumpster, rounding the corner and starting to speak. “Alright, if you’re gonna rip a blunt, at lea-”

She blinked. This wasn’t a pot smoker getting high behind a dumpster. No, this was a different breed of weird. A man, if his size was anything to go off of, was laid out along the floor, dressed in medieval armor from head to toe and clutching a very long sword in one of his hands. He was covered from head to toe in soot and ash and some dark ichorous substance that stunk like bad eggs and gasoline. The odor made her want to gag, but the man that laid there was actively smoking , the edges of the cloth he wore burnt and the metal itself was slightly blackened. She hadn’t a clue how this could’ve happened to the poor man, but it was clear he probably needed some help.

She looked left and right, calling out- “Hello? Is this anyone’s man?”

Nothing returned her calls. The man began to cough and weakly whimper, his hand clutching the sword and starting to drag his hands back to try and move. He barely managed to get his trembling arms into a push-up position and off the ground barely an inch before his arms splayed out and he hit the ground with a clatter. She could hear words whispering from his mouth before she finally bent down to take some action.

“Hey, hey! Buddy, stay awake, yeah? You- uh- h-hey!” Delilah started. She wasn’t an EMT or a nurse or anything, she knew the most basic of medicine to keep herself from getting an infection and that was about it. Her hands hovered over the man, not truly wanting to get whatever clung to him on her. She swallowed as her mind overruled her personal grievances and she grabbed the fellow, pulling him over and carefully flipping him. He was heavier than he looked, but she figured that was likely his burnt up armor. As she did, she noticed that his front was far cleaner, at least in turns of the burning, than his back was. It almost looked like burnished steel with numerous scratches, scuffs and scores across it all. His face was hidden behind a veil of chainmail, only a small strip of skin visible to reveal his eyes. The final detail was how all of his upper body was smeared in red, the coppery undertones lifting from his flipped body telling Delilah all she needed to know. “O-Oh good god, are y- don’t worry, I’ll take you somewhere to get treated!” 

Delilah reached for her coat pocket, leaning upward to pull out the phone that was far too small for her large hands. As she grabbed it and pulled it out, she found it buzzing with a familiar face on the end of it. Panicking and not thinking, she swiped to answer and barely gave Lily any time to speak. “Deli, you better not have lef-!”

“Lily!! You need to get out here!! I found a man, h-he’s covered in blood, I think he’s LARPer or something, maybe plays Dungeons and Dragons!? I-It doesn’t matter, he’s hurt!” She babbled and blubbered out into the phone.

“Wait, Wait wait, what!? Where are you?” That familiar ‘Serious’ tone Lily had when there was work to be done. 

 

“I-In the side alley, I-I went for a smoke, s-smelt something weird, h-he’s burnt too, I think? I-”

“Delilah, just try and find the bleeding if he still is, wherever it’s the most warm and wet, I’ll be there in a moment.” Lily snapped before hanging up. Delilah was panicking now, the smell of blood blending with the already raunchy scent of whatever else happened to the man making her want to gag. She sniffed as best as she could, trying to find any sense of injury off of him, leaning down closer and closer until her nose was almost touching him. Despite the volume of red smeared across his armored person, she couldn’t really detect anything fresh. It seemed like it had all flash dried to him.

When her nose got to his head, she heard his voice groan up at her. It was such a rich and gravelly sound, deep and protective that reminded her of all those action heroes she grew up watching on the TV. His eyes slowly listed open, vibrant green hues blinking up at her. They were bloodshot, pained and yet they suddenly held a warmth behind them she’d never seen or felt before from anyone other than her family. Her mouth dried out as she heard him croaking, in her mind this was going to be where she saw a man die. The sound was a whisper, only heard because her nose was barely a few inches from his face. A hand rose up and brushed against the side of her face, locking her still.

It was so tender, the way his fingers pressed through her fur and rubbed against her chin. His thumb ever so delicately passed over her eye, and she heard him squeeze out a handful of words. 

“Oh.... Alba .... You’re safe....” He wheezed, her hand slowly coming up to grab his arm. “Thank the gods, I thought.....”

His eyes grew distant and his wrist went limp against her, the sudden quiet raging in her ears. “... No... No no no!” Delilah stated, going to bring her hands down to his head and carefully tap the sides of the helmet. “C’mon, wake back up! You can’t go to sleep, you’re hurt!”

Delilah did all she could to get the man to come back to the waking world, but it was all met with the same impassive silence. Only when Lily arrived with a burst through the door and a cheap looking medical kit on hand, Delilah was only slightly relieved. She dashed to where she saw her giant friend and slid to a halt, starting to get to work. Neither of them had a clue about where to even begin with all that he was wearing. Belts and straps everywhere, metal shifting here and there. She did the only thing that was sensible and pulled the man’s helmet off, setting it to the side and then slid down the chainmail, finally yanking off the padded hat he wore. His hair was matted to his face and both were so stained in grim and god knows what else to really make out any features aside from his tanned skin. 


Lily tugged up his collar of mail and gambeson before pressing a pair of fingers to his neck and breathing just a bit easier. “Well, he’s not dead...” She said, making Delilah let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Did you find where he might be hurt...?”

“N-No, I... I don’t even know if this is his blood, if I’m being honest? None of it is fresh, a-and-” Her eyes glanced down to the sword in his other hand, the one that’d remained on the ground. It was also covered in blood. Her eyes thinned for a moment before she rubbed the back of her neck, how did she miss such a detail? I guess I was panicking. She tried to reason. “L-Lily, I don’t know where this guy is from, but I think he has a canine wife. He said the name ‘Alba’ briefly when he looked at me.”  

“Alba...? Well that’s a name at least. But first things first, we gotta... Figure this! Shit! Out!” She said, tugging at the armor. Lily yanked and pulled on the armor a few more times before looking at Delilah who was eerily still, ears pinned and frown forming on her otherwise inexpressive muzzle. “Deli, you gonna help or what!?”

“Lily, what if someone took his wife o-or tried to kidnap him but gave up after he resisted...? I mean, he’s here all alone, beat to shit in a back alley, covered in blood that might not even be his.” She said, waving a hand to him.

Lily’s brow furrowed as she spoke. “What are you saying...? That some ladies found this guy, stole him away and just beat the crap out of him instead of going after him because they couldn’t get past his get-up...?” It sounded insane even as it left her mouth, but not entirely impossible. Lily herself, an experienced nurse, was having a hell of a time even trying to figure out which belt went where. “What makes you even think that? Sure, he’s pretty scuffed up and all, but-”

“Look at the sword....” Delilah said, pointing past Lily’s head. The Cheetah mouthed the words before following her finger to the bloodied weapon beside him. And it didn’t look dull either. This man was either some kind of rich larper or a very experienced traditional hobbyist blacksmith, and neither really seemed like the type to be in this part of the city. “M-Maybe we should just get him out of here in case they come back? I-If he’s not dead by this point, and it’s all dried up, he’s probably not going to die, right? Right, Lily?”

Her tone was desperate as Lily looked back at her. Her feline eyes scanned Delilah briefly before looking back down to the man and sighing. “Pick him up. We’ll take my car, how many drinks did you have?” She asked, standing up.

“O-Only two beers, and they weren’t very big....”

“Perfect, you’re driving then. Take us to my apartment, I have stuff there we can use on him after we figure out how the hell to get this tin can opened up.” Lily stated, going to start walking. Delilah fidgeted, looking between her friend and the fallen man. Her hands lingered in the air for a few seconds at a time before she heard Lily shout at her. “Tonight, Deli, the man probably has a few broken bones if he was thrown around, at the very least some severe bruising! We can call Human Protection Services when we get home!” 

Gritting her teeth and quickly removing her jacket, she laid it down beside the man, having a very brief moment of humor as she saw how it was nearly a blanket for the man. Then she picked him up under the shoulders and legs to place in it, wrapping him up and lifting him more easily now without the worry of his tarry stink clinging to her fur. She turned on her heel and hauled both of them down the alleyway, chasing after her ever speedy friend. 

Notes:

Hopefully I'll be able to make something of this, I already got a couple ideas.
It'll help keep the burnout from happening, too hopefully!
Thanks for giving this a read and hope you've had a wonderful day!

Here's a link to an image of what Gawain looks like!
For Honor was used as major inspiration for his design and the story, but doesn't take place in/from it!
https://imgur.com/DYtZfwK

Chapter 2: Tell you something you don't want to hear

Delilah wasn’t doing well. Her breathing was coming in shaky, nervous pants while her foot couldn’t stop tapping against the floor of the well driven sedan. She had the seat pushed all the way back, hunched over so far her nose was practically touching the windshield. She knew if a single cop saw her in this tiny car, she’d be getting pulled over immediately for failure to abide by ‘Required Space for Driver’ laws. Thankfully, Lily’s apartment wasn’t terribly far from this place, just outside of the bad side of town that horrible club had been at. By the time she was pulling into the parking lot, she was already yanking the abused seatbelt free of her massive body and almost kicked the door off of the vehicle. Lily’s protesting shouts being the only thing keeping her grounded to their reality.

The cheetah pulled herself out of the back seat, carrying the armful of things they’d taken off of the man and the medkit she’d taken from the club. She’d mumbled something about returning it later, but felt this was more than enough of an emergency and it being ‘One of those cheap-ass wally-world’ kits giving her enough reason to not care. The man’s helmet was tucked under the same arm that carried the kit, stuffed with the padded hat and chain hood that’d been around him. She carried his sword in the other hand sheathed in its scabbard that’d been found a few feet from him, the blade nearly scrapped against the ground as she moved, tucking it up under her arm after a few close calls. It was almost as tall as she was, coming up to her shoulder if she held it straight up with its tip against the ground. 

 

Delilah would’ve thought it a really cool thing to see her short friend carrying were it not someone else's and covered in possibly real blood. The human himself was a different story. Lily had ridden in the passenger seat, but had leaned over to the backseat to look after him and make sure he wasn’t going to kill over on them. Now she was having to carefully wrap the man in her coat again to pull him out of the car without dropping him or getting the smelly gunk on her person. The moment he was free, she was kicking the doors shut and awkwardly clicking the lock button on the keys.

She and Lily rushed into the apartment complex, giving a hurried greeting to the man sitting behind the desk. He looked to be raising an eyebrow as the two walked through the lobby towards the elevators, spying the unconscious man in Delilah’s arms. His mouth opened before Lily spoke up. “S-Sorry, friend of ours, we’re just getting back from the club, found him passed out by the dumpsters.” She said, giving a weak and nervous smile.

“... Right... Do you need any help getting to your apartment, Miss Abebe?” He asked, putting down the magazine he’d been reading. He looked mildly concerned, but not quite suspicious yet. Lily shook her head, waving a hand.

“Oh no no, we got him. Poor guy just passed out in dumpster goo, y’know how it is? Too many drinks and next thing you know, you’re fallin’ asleep with a lit cigarette in a pile’a garbage!” Lily said as they reached the elevator, Delilah trying to squat down enough to hit the ‘Up’ button before eventually shifting herself to use the plated man’s boot to press it. The words and Delilah’s actions earned a somewhat amused huff, though no less concerned.

“Alright, well... If you guys need anything, don’t hesitate to call, yeah? I trust you both not to do anything untoward, alright....?” He said, giving the both of them a pointed look. Lily grimaced and nodded, raising a talon to make an invisible X over her heart.

“Ya, don’t worry, Micheal, we’re not those kind’a girls. I’ll be sure to give you an update on the poor sod, okay?” Lily offered with a small smile and that seemed to be enough to placate the man at the desk. He gave a small nod before leaning back in his chair and grabbing his magazine again.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop hassling you. Oh, just saying the gym’s closed for the week. Maryl tripped and hit the wall, screwed a bunch of stuff up.” Micheal said, looking back down to his magazine. Lily’s grimace returned in full force after that, and likely not because of the gym.

When the elevator dinged, they walked in, Delilah leaned back against the wall while Lily punched in her floor and began to rapidly tap her foot against the floor with impatience building every passing second. Her head snapped back to look at the wolf and then to the human, narrowing at him. “.... Is he still breathing?”

Delilah tilted her head and brought him to her ear. The faintest breath escaped, steady and hot against her ear. She gave a nod that allowed Lily to relax enough that when the elevator opened they stepped out, they spotted a massive Crocodile standing patiently for her turn to get inside. The trio stared at one another for a long moment, a single scaly finger coming up and long snout parting slightly before Delilah blurted out. “He passed out and fell into a dumpster.” 

 

The crocodile’s mouth slowly closed and the finger fell. Lily spoke up afterwards, sliding out of the elevator with Delilah in tow. “He’s a friend, Delilah went to have a smoke and found him asleep in dumpster snot, we’re getting him cleaned up.” 

 

“Ah.” Came the gravelly voice from the Croc, raising a hand to rub the back of her neck. “.... Well good luck with that. Was wonderin’ what that smell was. Use a lil’ dish soap, it’ll cut any greasy bits. Oh and uh, sorry in advance, I uh-” 

 

“The gym, I know, Micheal told me, you’re forgiven but you owe me lunch, May!” Lily said hurriedly, rushing down the hall to her apartment. Delilah heard a soft ‘Dag nabit’ from the reptile as she slunk into the elevator and glumly hit a button. Delilah followed straight after, ducking her head to get inside and moving where she remembered the couch being. Her ears picked up on the door locking before Lily came after her, suddenly speaking. “Bathroom, Deli! We should rinse him off first, see about getting that armor off too.” 

 

She turned in place, going to start heading down the short hallway to the bathroom at the end, catching a glimpse of Lily putting the sword against her couch and hanging the various headwear from its hilt. Getting to the bathroom, she awkwardly crouched down and used a finger to pull down the handle, bumping her hip into it to swing it open. Thankfully, the bathroom was relatively small so the light from the hallway was enough to let her walk in without worry of tripping. Her steps carried her to the large round tub, one that would mostly fit her if she scrunched up her legs, and she carefully went to deposit the man into the large space. Her coat was pulled out from under him and regarded with a grimace. It was covered in the tarry, fetid substance no doubt wouldn’t be rid of the smell for weeks. If ever.

Lily came in soon after that. She shoo’d Delilah to the side as she got into the tub with the man to start removing his equipment, only to find the whole affair largely puzzling. She’d run her fingers along the sides of the plate, find a strap, follow it around only to find it tucked beneath something else. Frustration was clear on her face as she tried to find a way to remove the equipment, getting to the point where she was clearly contemplating simply tearing it apart. “This! Is! Impossible!” Lily growled in frustration, grabbing the plate and giving it a small yank before throwing her hands up in the air. “How did he even get this on!?”

“P-Probably had some help? I mean, if we’re assuming he had a wife, it’d make sense... Or even just some friends?” Delilah offered, only earning an annoyed look in return. Her ears pinned before Lily sighed and stood up.

“I’m going to go and find my medical supplies, you use those big muscles of yours and get that armor off of him.” She ordered, making Delilah straighten up, looking between the cheetah and the human. “.... What?”

“B-But what if I break it? This stuff’s probably super expensive, Lily!” The wolf protested before the cheetah lightly poked her in the stomach.

“And what if he’s seriously hurt under all that metal and gets a horrible infection because we’re both to dumb to take it off, eh?” Lily replied, earning a small whine as she started to pull away. “If you’re really worried about it, start washing him off. The tub has a shower head attached, just flip the little lever and make sure the water’s hot so you don’t shock the poor guy awake.” 

 

Delilah whined again, slightly louder than before, but it fell on deaf ears as Lily left the room to go and find her supplies. Delilah rubbed her hands together, callous pads brushing uncomfortably together. Her nose twitched and her ears wiggled, but this little spell wouldn’t finish its mysticism to save her from this plight. A quiet sigh of defeat escaped her before she leaned over, going to grab the shower head, staring at it for a moment and then looking to the faucet. A small lever was beneath it which she shifted as instructed and then moved her hands to the twist handles atop.

She adjusted herself, positioning her large body out of the way of the tub and angling the showerhead away from her face. Sadly, the moment she turned it on, the water came out in a harsh, rapid spray that instantly doused the poor man in the tub, spraying the muck and ichor all over the nearby walls, Delilah’s clothing and to say the very least the tub itself. The panicked yelp that escaped her was more than embarrassing as she leaned over and quickly wrenched the faucet shut but the damage was long since done. Between her yelping and the rush of frigid water, there was an audible gasp fraught with shock as the man in the tub suddenly awoke.

He sputtered and panted, arms flailing to grab hold of something until they clutched at the edges of the tub to steady himself. His legs kicked out, trying to find purchase, and only when his leather boots clung to the base did he manage to calm down enough to peel open his eyes and look around. Green eyes landed on Delilah as she clutched the faucet to her chest, ears pinned and her own eyes wide as they could be. The man blinked several times, blowing water from his lips and the light stubble that’d been revealed with the blast of water that’d awoken him. His eyes searched for something, anything, to explain his situation. Delilah’s hands wrung around the hose bound showerhead, trying to come up with any words to explain the situation.

“U-Uh-” She started to mutter out before she heard the thumping of feet returning to the door way, Lily poking her head in.

“I heard shouting, did something happ-” She started, pausing and seeing the man sitting upright with wild eyes and only some of the muck removed from his face. Her eyes glanced at him, then to Delilah and then to the scattered grim that’d been sprayed across her walls and floor. Her eyes closed, teeth grit behind her lips and she took a very deep breath from her nose. As she took one more step in, clearly intent on telling Delilah off, the whole situation changed.

The man stood from the tub, water and mud spilling out of the crevices water had pooled, and he lunged at Lily. Words spilled from his lips as leapt, an expression of pure panic spilling across his features. “Thou shan’t have me, foul beastkin!!”

He had a voice like gravel and sandpaper, hoarse and worn from years of shouting. It reminded Deiliah of her foreman in a weird way, though she had no time to think on it as she saw Lily take the brunt of the man’s weight to her stomach, slamming back into her bathroom door with an audible wheeze as the wind was utterly knocked out of her. Lily slid to the ground as Delilah dropped the faucet and ran to her friend, ears snapped up and fear laced her eyes. Lily wheezed as Delilah picked her up off the ground into her arms. “Lily! Lily are you-”

“Delilah, put me down!” She croaked, swatting the big wolf woman on the shoulder, some tears of pain already beading at her eye and a look like she was about to vomit. “G-Go grab the guy! He’s freaking out, he might hurt someone else! You’re big, jus’...! Pounce him or somethin’!”

“B-But!”

“Delilah, go, god damn it!”

Delilah whimpered before setting Lily back onto her feet and chasing the grimy footprints down the hall. He couldn’t have gotten very far, surely. At least that's what she thought until the sound of a door crunching open was heard. 

 

======

 

Gawain was panicking. 

 

He’d awoken in some porcelain basin, soaked in blistering cold water by a towering beastwoman and followed by another who was the clear gaol warden, strange in attire she may’ve been. Where was he? How did he get here? Why were the walls so smooth and uniform if they weren’t stone? He hadn’t a clue about anything at the moment. He’d spied his sword and helmet leaned against a leather love seat and didn’t think twice about snatching them away. He must’ve just been brought here, they hadn’t time to put away his belongings or disrobe him entirely. He’d heard horror stories of men and women being taken by the beast kin and inducted into their lives through many strange, and often humiliating, means. He had doubted such things. He’d met a few beastkin before, a memorable one was a proud looking bear that wielded a mighty mace. A mercenary no less, though he couldn’t remember if it were man or woman. It did not matter. 

 

He’d ran to the first door he could spy, the one with the most locks no less. Yanking his padded hat onto his soaked head, uncaring of the mud squishing against his scalp, and quickly donned the chain after the helmet too. He wrangled them into place with one hand as the other held his scabbard and blade. As he met the door, he clung to the handle. Locked. He began to search for the knobs and levers to release it, only to hear the heavy padded steps of what was no doubt that guard dog that’d been looking over him.

Taking a risk, the man raised his boot and threw his foot and weight right above the door handle. He heard a satisfying crunch as the, seemingly hollow, door was smashed through. The door buckled in place, the lock and handle falling out of the door and allowing him to swing it open with haste. He heard a feminine baritone come to greet him, closing in quickly. “H-Hey what the hell, dude!? You can’t just break people’s d-doors down!”

He didn’t pause long enough to look, sprinting out the door as fast as his weary body would allow him. The fatigue that clouded his mind didn’t let up even as that fearful fuel spilled through his veins. It was just allowing him to try and find safety once again, out of the hands of beastkin and whatever foe may have stolen him away. Into the hallway he ran, finding nothing but doors upon doors, all with numbers or symbols, save for a pair of stiff metal ones that were sealed together with nothing to open them. There must’ve been a pulley or some rope tied to stones that could heave those metal doors open.

His heavy boots clomped down the way at haste, only one of his arms pumping with frantic action while the other clutched his sword under his arm to keep it out of the way. He could hear the heavy steps behind him gaining ground, but it only fueled his desire to escape all the more. As he closed the distance to the gates, his eyes flicked in every direction, finding nothing that’d suggest a way to open the doors, just more plain, smooth colorful walls. It all didn’t make sense. What further didn’t make sense was when the pair of metal doors pulled apart in a manner he’d never seen before.

And what laid within those doors made him skid to a halt. A massive reptilian beast woman took up the majority of the space inside of it. His eyes widened and he took a nervous step back, his free hand going to hover near his sword. The crocodilian woman was wearing a long, sleeveless shirt that covered her, frankly copious, chest and chubby belly and some kind of rough looking blue trousers to hide everything else. A towel was around her neck and she looked to have just come back from some pond or stream by how she was dripping. 

 

“Eh? Oh it’s you, the lil’un who done fell in the dumpster snot, eh?” A rough, gravelly tone escaped from her, a low, menacing chuckle rumbled out of her as she stepped out of the doors and in front of him. He felt that surge of survival instincts swelling to his mind as he thought the best way to escape the situation. “Don’ smell as bad now, so they must’ve gotten you at some washed off. What’re you doin’ out here? Leavin’ already? Thought them ladies were helpin’a ya! Rescuin’ th’brave knight from his narsty defeat!”

Helping? Rescue? His mind reeled at the thought, even as the crocodilian woman chortled at him. He’d never heard of beastkin helping any piece of humanity, not for free at least. They always made demands depending on the work. If you were asking for their hands at a farm, it was food or coin. If you were asking for help in traveling, it was equipment or coin. In cases of war? They’d even demand men or women to ‘Repopulate their losses’, and that often never happened as they never participated enough to warrant such ‘Repopulation’. But on the rare occasions they had, they were forces to be reckoned with. Does that mean I was... Given away at the end of the battle? Tossed aside? Why would the lord do that? After all I have done and sacrificed?

 

The thought made his hand holding his sheathe begin to tremble with fury, squeezing the leather so tight the chainmail rattled with the effort. His breathing began to pick up as he heard the heavy steps close in behind him, soft heavy panting not unlike that of Alba’s came from behind him, though it was quite a bit louder and more breathy. He was trapped as he was now, stuck between a wolf and a crocodile. But neither had made moves to grab him quite yet, and neither had even really tried to jeer or provoke him as Beastkin often had in his homeland. Perhaps the women were simply more polite? They were clearly larger than he was, so they may’ve just simply thought him not much of a threat. 

 

“There you is, Delilah! Why’s th’poor boy runnin’ around out here? Soppin’ wet at that!” The reptile spoke, a single thick finger coming up to scratch at her snout. The wolf behind him panted and swallowed before replying.

“I-I think we spooked him, accidentally.... Woke him up w-with some cold water while trying to.... Bathe him.” Gawain pivoted on a foot, his hand still hovering at the handle of his blade. The wolfish woman was doubled over, holding her knees. “M-Man, I really n-need to go back to the g-gym....” 

 

“Ah’ll say, don’ you work for that big construction company...?” 

 

“I-I operate th’machines.....”

“Oh so sittin’ on your arse all day. No wonder y’legs so shaky!”

“O-Oh Piss off Mayrl...” The crocodile woman chuckled at the retort before looking back down at Gawain, giving his shoulder a gentle tap. The clack of claw to metal made him jump just a small bit, ‘Maryl’ holding up a hand afterwards to placate his sudden shock.

“Oop, y’spirtely one, ain’cha...! Was’s your name, hun?” She drawled, bending down just enough that her snout hovered too close to his helmet, smelling her breath. It smelled like a brew, perhaps ale or mead. And meat. His hand clutched at the hilt of his sword, but he had yet to draw it. If he dared, between these two, he had no question in his mind they’d just snatch him from the ground, or worse, leap upon him like the beasts they resembled. They were so massive, between the two of them, they could easily pull him apart like a bully would to a cherished rag doll. He swallowed, his throat dry as a desert.

His own gravelly tone rumbled out of his chest, his natural baritone making the sound all the more deep. “... G... Gawain, my lady.” 

 

“My lady!?” The crocodile stated, incredulous. She sputtered and leaned up, barking a laugh that made her whole portly form shake. A hand slapped at her hip before she brought it up to wipe away an amused tear. “Oh you done did get one’a them real weird folk, didn’ you two?! HA! Well there Sir Gawain, M’ Maryl Dutchin. Pleasure t’be makin’ y’aquaintence.” 

 

And she leaned down again, slower this time and held out a large paw to him. Three fingers and a thumb, now that he had a look, and a palm big enough to grab his head and lift him if she so chose. But the action, a respectful one at that, had caught him somewhat off guard. It almost made him believe he over reacted. Almost . His hand came up from his sword to awkwardly grasp hers, not able to fully wrap her hand. She didn’t squeeze his grip, but did encapsulate his whole hand as she shook it. 

 

“..... L... Like wise, Lady Dutchin.” He spoke, trying to form any kind of coherency between where he last remembered being and where he was now, how he ended up in this strange architecture surrounded by beast women. “I... I apologize for any... distress I’ve caused. Do you happen to know where I am....?” 

 

“Eh? Well y’at the Sunny Day Apartments between Fifth and eighth, why? Y’got somewhere y’gotta be?” Maryl asked, scratching her snout again. His eyes reflected his confusion as the woman sighed and tapped her nose. “Do uh.... Where are you from, youngin’...?”

His posture was slowly coming to relax as he heard the panting behind him start to simmer down. The pain was catching up with him, adrenaline wearing away. “I... I hail from Demalahara, the central kingdom of the faithful nation... I am a Knight bachelor of Lord Marquis, son of Marqio.”

He gestured to his armor only to find it was covered in filth and grime. He awkwardly raised a hand to press into the muck on his armor, digging his gauntlet tips into the tar-like goop. It came off in thick clumps that landed on the smooth flooring. It almost looked tiled and yet it was off, somehow. An uncanny facsimile. As he finished and waved a hand to his chest piece, the ring surrounding a diamond, he was met with an all too confused face.

“Demalowhatnow?” Maryl said with a tilt of her head. “That like.... Out in the free lands? The name’a that ‘Lord’ don’ ring no bell either. Y’sure y’okay there, champ? Did you hit your head or somethin’...?”

“Demalahara...!” Gawain stated, raising his hand and pressing his finger into the chest piece. “Demalahara is my homeland, the village of Domala that resides beside it! It is a kingdom of great renown! Lord Marquis is known even among the beastkin!”

That last word caused the crocodile to wrinkle her nose, sighing. “Oh hun....” She looked almost... Sad. Her eyes shifted away from him towards this ‘Delilah’ character who’d been gathering her breath behind him. He followed her gaze, pivoting on a foot so he had a shoulder facing each of them. “Delilah hun, I think you picked up some poor sod who got dropped in the city from the free lands.”

Delilah’s ears pinned at that, fidgeting slightly. Gawain blinked, looking between them several times. His hands shook in their respective places before he raised his voice with what little energy he still had in him. His whole body felt like it was on fire as it had been when that meteor of a spell dropped on him. “Speak plainly, woman! What are the ‘Free Lands’!? Where am I?! Where is my contingent? My small band of soldiers? Did any others survive the fall of that miniature sun!?”

There was a great sigh as Maryl got down onto a knee, gingerly poking his shoulder to get his attention again. His head snapped to her as she gave him an expression that slightly calmed his racing mind. It was full of pity. Worry. Concern. Things he’d not seen on anyone’s faces since his recruitment, not even on the nurses, maids or surgeons. Not even the humble barbers regarded him with anything more than meager indifference.

“Hun, Gawain, y’said?” She began and he nodded. “I dunno where your home is, why you were where you were, and I certainly don’t know how you got there. What I do know is th’two nice ladies here brought you back tryin’ t’help ya out. Y’looked like, and still kind of do, you were in real rough shape.”

Gawain couldn’t deny he was barely standing. He had the mind to use his sword as a walking stick. All of the adrenaline and fight he had was draining swiftly out of him, and with him being where he was, he had only a handful of options. And one of them was almost guaranteed to get him killed or worse. But even as his mind raced, he heard the woman speak further. “I get y’probably thinkin’ all sorts’a things right now, hun, but I can promise y’with all m’heart and soul y’in good hands. Delilah and Lily are some real, real sweet ladies.”

The man grimaced, not particularly enthused by the idea of being tended two by two bestial women. Even less by the attempted words of encouragement and soothing. But he also supposed in his current state, his current knowledge and all other factors that pushed against him, he had little choice in the matter. His eyes squinted slightly as he felt a headache brewing rapidly to the forefront of his mind. And in the end, he slowly relaxed his hand on his sword, going to carefully plant the tip against the ground and rest his other hand on its pommel. 

 

“I... Am not pleased by any of what I am hearing.”

“Wouldn’ expect ya t’be, honestly. From what it sounds to me, lil’un, you’re quite a bit away from home. The free t’aint no where close t’this city.” She said before slowly standing up and rolling her shoulders. “But... Y’ain’ gonna know or learn nothin’ covered in god knows what and lookin’ like y’are. Why don’ you trot on back and see about cleanin’ up proper.”

“.... May I clean myself without additional help?” He grumbled, only to hear a chortling rasp from the crocodile. Her shoulders came up in a shrug.

“Y’a free man, ain’cha? Don’ think none’a them ladies here would dare try somethin’ knowin’ ol’ Mama Maryl’s around! Ah don’ take too kindly t’folks abusin’ men and the like!” She said with a firm nod. She gave Gawain one more friendly pat on the shoulder before starting to move past. “Delilah, what’chu standin’ there slack-jawed for?”

Delilah had to make a conscious effort to close her lips, having been rather baffled at how smoothly Maryl handled the situation. She’d forgotten that the large reptilian woman had once been employed for these kinds of exact things. And, admittedly, were she as small as the man was, she’d be an intimidating sight to behold. After a moment, she sputtered a few words. “O-Oh well, uhm... When he... Reacted... He k-kind of.... Tackled Lily a-and... broke down her door to escape...?”

“Oh, he got quick t’fly, eh? Strong t’boot no less... Well ah don’ exactly blame him, thinkin’ he’s probably been kidnapped from his home and dumped into our city for one reason or another...” Maryl drawled out, looking over the man and then back to Delilah. “Well, y’didn’ jus’ tackle him outright or hurt’m, so I’m stickin t’what I said before, that y’s good people. Don’ prove me wrong now! And uh... ah’ll go ahead and get that door replaced today. Ah already owe Lily for th’Gym as she said. So tell her t’simmer down iffin’ she gets too upset about it.”

Delilah was about to speak up as the crocodile waved a hand over her shoulder, turning away and sauntering down to her room. She tried to get out a few more words but the woman opened the door, said a few words in the vein of ‘Honey I’m home!’ and vanished from sight. The door to her apartment clicked shut, leaving Delilah to turn to glance down at Gawain who’d likewise turned to watch Maryl walk off. His breathing was labored now, each breath sounding more and more deliberate as he stood. Eventually, his head turned upwards to meet hers. His green eyes softened, if only slightly, as he looked at her.

“... C... Can we uhm... Try this again? Now that you’re awake?” She offered. The man tilted his head before she squatted down in place, slowly offering out a hand to him. He looked at her great paw, once again reminded at her sheer size had the closeness not been enough. “I-I’m Delilah. Delilah Hagerjund, as Maryl said, I’m the one that found you layin’ face first on the ground.”

The man’s hand slowly came up to catch hers and he slowly nodded. “I am Gawain, Gawain Hornaldson. Knight Bachelor.” He spoke smoothly, clearing his throat and slowly looking past her towards the door that still hung off its hinges. “.... Pray, forgive my overreaction. Beastkin are not as prevalent among my people where I hail from and before I was here, I had collapsed on the battlefield...”

“You, uh... Fell in battle, as it were?” She said, chuckling weakly at the poor joke. There was a silence before a soft snort escaped him before he took her paw and shook it as heartily as he could.

“I suppose that’d be a prudent way to put it, yes. They dropped a small sun on me.”

“... They wh-”

“What happened to my fucking door!? Delilah did you fall against it again!?” Lily’s voice broke out, leaning on the wall and peeking her head out through it. She had pure frustration on her face, though it faded some as she saw the two standing calmly together. “.... Woah, you got him all calmed down just like that....?”

“O-Oh, no no, Maryl caught him before I could. Talked him down real easy. She said she’d fix your door too, by the by...” The wolf woman stated, standing up tall. The man’s eyes tracked her upward, watching her extending upward and letting out a soft sigh. His vision shifted downward before he saw the cheetah woman starting to approach. She was holding what looked like a frosted over bag of some kind against her stomach and staggering only a small bit. “Maryl says he’s probably from the free lands, given what we learned. Explains his get up and why he’s actin’ all funny.”

Gawain took a moment to examine the two, to look around the hallway and then finally back to the cheetah woman as she got close enough that she’d be able to kick him in the chest in a single step with how long her legs were. He cautiously looped his leather ties around the sheath of his sword and then raised up his hands, now free, to pull his helmet from his head. As it came off into one hand, he pulled the chain back down to his neck and bowed at the waist.

“Pray, accept my apologies, my lady. I was fraught with fear when I awoke because of the last things I remembered. Had I known you two had pulled me from wherever I had laid, I would not have deigned to act so poorly among your generosity.” His tone was haggard, but no less genuine as he spoke, awaiting whatever words or physical punishment that’d be invoked upon him. A huff was heard before Lily spoke again.

“Has he been like this since you guys caught up with him....?” She spoke. He rose up just in time to see the large wolf woman nod. Lily’s eyes turned back to him and she looked him up and down one more time. “Well... If you are from the free lands, I suppose that means you don’t really have the money to pay for any of the damages, huh...?”

“I... I have some coins in my purse, should that suffice...?” He said, reaching to his hip and producing a small pouch  “A single door, that’d take some carpentry work, perhaps even a decent smith to make the knob and hinges, not to mention the nails or bolts....”

Lily and Delilah watched in wonder as the man reached into his pouch and produced a single gold coin, roughly the size of a half dollar and offered it out. Both of their eyes bugged out of their sockets as Lily suddenly leaned over and closed the man’s hand over the coin. “Good god, man, it’s just a door...! You don’t need to give me that much! Assuming that’s even real!” 

“Of course it’s real...!” Gawain protested, shifting the coin in his grip before bringing it up to his teeth and biting hard into it, showing it back to them to show his teeth marks had dented the soft metal. “And the labor, the material and the time that it’d all take, that is going to be quite pricey, is it not....? You’ll need not only a carpenter but a smith too, not to mention a woodsman if there’s no available lumber! And these doors are all painted, so you’ll no doubt need the hands of an alchemist or an herbalist too!”

Lily leaned over, snatching the coin from the man’s fingers and planted it back into his purse. She curled his fingers over it and tucked it against his chest, sighing wearily but giving him a look like she’d seen him in a new light. Those large eyes closed after a moment and she turned to wave them over. “Yeah... Yeah, he probably is from the Free lands. We’ll talk about how you can repay us later, if you’re so adamant. We were just going to clean you up and try to get you home, but... If Maryl’s right, we can’t really just send you off.”

Gawain watched the cheetah walk away, Delilah taking a few steps forward before turning to face him. Her hands were held down at her waist, folded delicately over one another. Her large ears flicked before flattening. “Are... Are you going to come, Miste- Er.... Ser Hornaldson?”

The man’s jaw worked for a moment and he swallowed to wet his throat. His mind raced briefly with all he could do before inevitably landing on the only truth of the situation he could muster. He was not anywhere near home and he had been lucky enough, for now, to have landed near some kindly folk. Beastkin or otherwise. The purse was tucked way back into his side satchel and he slowly started to follow after her, tucking his helmet under his arm. “I suppose I’ve nary the choice to do otherwise, Lady Hagerjund.”

“A-Ah, please don’t... say... that. Just call me Delilah, please?”

“.... Delilah then. I am not among nobility, I assume, so my titles will mean nothing. Forthwith, just call me Gawain.”

As he followed the two animal women down the hall, he felt the tension of the previous battle and the adrenaline of the moment fade away, leaving him back in his pained state. He wished he still had his rucksack. He wished he was back home, before he had signed to be a man-at-arms. He wished he still had Alba.

The man’s shoulders sank as the trio passed into the apartment, marking the true start of this brand new journey.

Chapter 3: Talking about you, Boy

Gawain was stared at himself in the fogged mirror, green eyes leering tiredly back at him. He had burns all across his shoulders, neck and partly across his cheeks. Bruises welled up across his forearms and biceps, several splotches around his ribs and one of his eyes had clearly been swollen at some point with how dark a ring was around it. His legs and waist hadn’t fared much better. The only blessing he had was that his groin had been plentifully protected by his codpiece and the padding there in. He couldn’t even count the number of scuffs, scrapes and cuts that littered his body. His eyes cast over towards the pile of armor that he’d removed, the only clothing he still had being the soiled tunic and trousers, his undergarments being the only thing remotely clean after laying in the mud, muck and the aforementioned ‘Dumpster Snot’.

A towel covered him now, giving him some level of dignity as he finished looking himself over. Aside from his injuries, the man’s tanned skin was at least well washed now. The hair on his head was no longer greasy, the almost too long stubble that covered his face no longer held clots of blood and blobs of mud mixed with sweat. A sigh whistled past his teeth as he finally stood away from the mirror to turn and get a glance at his back. A pained grimace folded his expression as he saw the breadth of the injury the ball of fire had caused. Boiled and bubbled flesh was now slowly scarring over, sores where blisters had popped, pockets of pallid skin where they’d yet to burst and plenty of dead skin sloughing off where he’d already healed.

He’d been blessed with a healthy body, stalwart and rigid in its immunity and oftentimes healing quicker, if only by a day, than his fellow soldiers. He often chalked it up to holy blessing, but his father and mother always told him it was because he played in the pig-pens and pet wild animals. That and he drank enough swill, his friends often told him his spit could sterilize a barber’s tools. A weak smile formed on his face before it faltered into a more timid frown.

He made sure to drain the tub as he’d been shown, even making use of their fancy advanced bath to rinse the ring of muck and blood away from the bath’s edge to ensure that he left his generous rescuers home better than when he’d arrived. Though, he did clean his equipment within the water after he’d finished bathing as well to make sure he didn’t waste the opportunity. Everything was hung to dry and his plate had been hand dried and then given a very quick polish with wax to not allow rust to form. It was all material and honestly inconsequential at this point, but they were the last things he had until he returned home or found his old army.

“My belongings have all likely been sorted and spread among my old cohort...” He mumbled, grabbing his undergarments and trousers. They were still uncomfortably damp, but he had no choice really. The cool fabric at least felt somewhat relieving on his sore and scarring body. He finally exited the bathroom after at least an hour of bathing and cleaning. And as he did, he heard conversation. Light, but not in a manner to avoid him hearing.

“-Least he’s calmed down. I was really starting to worry he’d keep fighting us. I didn’t want to have to like... tie him down or something, that’d make me feel awful.” He heard the slowly becoming familiar voices. That was Lily, as he’d put name to face. The feline woman with the cool yellow-orange fur and black spots. An athletic body and piercing blue eyes. He’d apologized to her several times after she’d brought him back to her home, only stopping when she threatened to box his ears if he apologized one more time. As he rounded the corner, he heard the voice of ‘Delilah’ as she’d called herself.

“I-I really hope we can find where he came from... And especially whoever he may’ve been with. I can’t even imagine how he got here.” The titan of a woman, twice as broad as he was and ever so reminiscent of his canine companion. Each look he’d had of her had made him sour behind his eyes, that withering memory of Alba saving his life playing back in his mind again and again. It stung less and less with each recollection, but that meant nothing when it still felt like a stake in his gut.

Finally he rounded the corner, a towel wrapped around his neck to keep his scraggly mop of dirty blonde hair from dripping where he walked. As he paused for just a moment to dry off for a second longer, he took a moment to glance around the room once again. It was a large, open design, much like a humble hamlet home would be in. The bathroom he’d exited had a pair of doors beside it that he’d been informed were the guest and resident bedrooms. After that was the kitchen, a semi-regal looking furnishing with polished counters, an island in front of the stovetops and some kind of massive ice box that he’d only ever heard rumors of royalty having. Finally, there was a clear area where recreation was to happen, with a couch, a love seat and a large plush chair beside a bookcase. Some kind of grand black mirror sat across the couch with several small boxes beneath it. Large, frameless paintings were pinned across the walls depicting all sorts of things in a script that was vaguely reminiscent of his own homelands.

The pair of women were at this the island in the kitchen, Delilah leaning near the ice box with a small bottle in hand and Lily leaning against the island itself with a few boxes beside her.

He’d have to ask about that at some point, but for the moment he just wished to get some clarity on other things, perhaps even get a chance to ask some proper questions. He cleared his throat, gaining their attention. He saw Lily turn first, already reaching for one of the open boxes, filled with what looked like a surgeon's supplies. An assortment of bandages and bottles of what he assumed was medicine or applicants. However, as her eyes landed on him they practically bugged out of her head. Delilah had a much more tame, if not concerned, reaction as she likewise saw him. Her eyes squinted upwards and her ears pinned, a hand came to her mouth in shock.

“G...Gawain, a... Are you okay?!” Lily practically croaked out, moving around and ushering him closer. The man hummed and looked himself over briefly, blinking a few times and offering a small, if not wincing, shrug.

“I’ve certainly been better.” He managed to say with a small smile on his lips. “Certainly not the worst I’ve received. Burns hurt, but heal well enough with good salve and bed rest.”

The woman’s mouth hung open like a gasping fish as she stared at him. She stomped over towards him, going to tenderly grab his person and pull him over to a pair of stools that'd been hidden behind the countertop. She ushered him to sit, to which he did, and she instantly began to fuss over him like a barber’s assistant. It was mildly unsettling at how she went to work, her mumblings coming through as gibberish to him as she spouted off what he only could assume were medical terms and possible outcomes of his many injuries. He couldn’t help but flinch occasionally when she applied some kind of salve or liquid or ointment to his person, be it because of how cold it was or how harshly it stung his injuries. The worst had been his back, having actively bite down on the towel to keep himself from snarling or growling out like a rabid animal at the constant horrid sensations.

“By heavens doorstep, Gawain, how the living fuck have you been walking like this!? How did you even manage to move, much less RUN, out of my apartment like this!?” Lily spouted, pausing briefly to look at him with a worried expression as she rummaged mindlessly for some new tool or appliance for his treatment. Once again, Gawain had no answers, only shrugging in return.

“I am... Sorry to say that this isn’t anything new for me. I am a soldier for Lord Marquis. I have been for the last year and a half.” He said, earning a grimace from the working woman. “I’ve survived ten separate engagements and am... Or was... on my second tour. By the twelfth battle, I’d have been given my stipend and allowed to return home. I’d have been one of the younger soldiers to have survived at the ripe age of.. Probably twenty eight years by the time I’d have been going home. Not to mention having achieved my noble rank, modest as it is.” 

“You... Fought for over a year and a half...? Getting wounds like that or worse...?” He heard Delilah speak up, having to twist his head to see her. She’d walked behind him at some point, the giant shockingly quiet in her movements. She was two-handing a small brown bottle, a beer of some kind if he had to guess. Her face was so expressive for what it was, though his time with his dear wolf had given him plenty of insight to wolfish demeanors. She was sad. Worried.

It pained him to see it.

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Aye, you would have the right o’it. My armor was given to me about halfway through my service, though almost entirely circumstantial. Nonetheless, this is perhaps the worst of my injuries I’ve had since receiving it. It protected me from quite a bit, arrows, spears and all between, though anything blunt or wide in its strikes often broke something or left my head ringing.” He continued. “Nothing I couldn’t live from, however. Only a single occasion was I left to be put to a stupor and opened to rearrange broken bones.”

Delilah’s face likewise contorted into a grimace.

“Now now, do not fre-ET!” He was halted as Lily had begun to apply a slimy substance to his back that made him hiss disdainfully and lurch forward.

“Stop moving so much! Go back to how you were, upright! You’ll tear your skin more if you keep reacting like that!” Lily snapped.

“Then please offer me some succor of warning before the application, woman!” Gawain retorted, letting out a faint shriek of displeasure as she all but slapped the next glob of salve to his wound.

“Here’s your warning, noble Knight, if you don’t stop moving, I’m gonna have Delilah sit on your legs and hold your arms over your head.” Lily warned, making the man huff in annoyance. Regardless, he did his best to hold still as she continued to work. When she eventually finished and began to apply his bandages, he finally was allowed a moment to relax. She did get uncomfortably close to do so, almost hugging him each time she had to wind the bandages around his body. This close he could smell a mixture of odors from her fur. Booze, of some variety, something floral like blossoms or roses and a very light hint of some kind of musk that he assumed must’ve been a natural scent. It wasn’t unpleasant at least. The beastkin he remembered often smelled like manure or rotten butter and cheese.

When she finally finished and moved onto his face, applying small dabs of ointment to his cuts, he had to close his eyes. But at the very least, he did manage to remember his manners. “.... Thank you, Lady Lily. I appreciate this kindness you’ve done for me. Many have often seen my wounds and left me to wait for care of others.”

“Well you can start that appreciation by not callin’ me ‘Lady Lily’. Just like Delilah, use my normal name, if you’d please.” Lily said with a small sigh lacing her words. He could only give a small nod, trying his best not to move or breath too deeply lest he muck up her work. Eventually, she managed to get him into a state she deemed sufficiently tended and stepped back.

He felt horribly greasy, covered in ointments, salves and gods know what else. But atop that he was covered in bandages galore, wrapped legs and arms, his torso practically a shirt of wrappings. His face was similarly tended to, though no wraps were around his face or head thankfully. His hands were carefully woven as well, though his fingers were left out of the folds.

“Goodness. You do incredible work, La-” He cleared his throat- “Lily. Thank you, once again.”

“I’d hope I do such good work, it’s my damn job!” She said with a smirk and a huff. Her expression dipped away as her hand came up to her chin. Her feet carried her away to lean her rump against the back of the couch. “Though this does pose the big question, I guess....”

“And... What would that be?” He tentatively asked. Delilah spoke up this time, stepping around and offering out to him a clear glass of cool water that he gratefully took and quaffed.

“W-Well, the problem is... You’re completely new here, as far as systems and laws are concerned. No... Identification, no home, you’re more or less homeless.” Delilah began, fiddling with the bottle in her hand. From the sound of sloshing it made, she’d barely drunk it. “Normally, this isn’t so bad? There are plenty of shelters around town, soup halls and what not. But... You being from outside the city kind of causes issues. Normally, Free folk, that’s what they call the people from the Free lands. Real original, am I right...?”

The dry chuckle that left Delilah wasn’t immediately shared save for a weak, if not confused, smile from Gawain. He at least was listening. She cleared her throat, seeing Lily shaking her head with a hand to her eyes, and continued on.

“Free folk are almost immediately scooped up to be shipped off elsewhere to be educated for a more modern society. The facilities are for anthros and humans alike, I should say. Oftentimes anyone who is coming in from the free lands has to go through them regardless. In your case, it almost sounds like someone snatched you up and dropped you here....” She said, raising a hand to scratch the back of her head. “What’s botherin’ me is me and Lily don’t know how you got here, who may’ve dropped you off, when or where from.”

“We were kind of hoping you’d have an idea of how you got here.” Lily interjected. Gawain’s hands came up and brushed against one another, feeling the bandages roll and curl slightly as he did. The expression on his face, the palpable look of sifting through memory, told the pair of women all they needed to know, frowning at one another before he even spoke.

“I’m afraid... Mine thoughts are just about inline with yours as they can be. I’m unaware of how I got here. One moment I was amidst a great war, the next I’m here in a tub, smelly and soggy.” He stated plainly, looking down at his hand for a moment. Callous and scars covered every inch of his uncovered flesh. “If I may be so blunt, when I awoke, I had thought my cohort may’ve sold me off as a pound of flesh, a body to be used, assuming I lived of course.”

Delilah and Lily both recoiled at the suggestion, but did not speak outwardly. They had similarly dark ideas of how he’d arrived. The cheetah did her best to not seem offended and cleared her throat. “Well, that is about what we assumed, the first part that is. I’m sorry that you’d thought you’d been sold off, I honestly don’t know if you were or not. But... You’re here now, at least. And despite what this whole situation may look like, we just wanted to make sure you were alive and not being taken advantage of.”

“And for that I’m eternally grateful. I wish I could do something to show such, but I’m afraid I’m uneducated outside of basic mathematics and literature.” He said, slowly standing up with a faint groan. He quietly stretched and flexed his body, testing the distance he could manage on each limb as he did. Delilah’s eyes were, unfortunately for her, locked upon the man as she squeezed the small bottle between her large mitts. “I was a farm hand most of my life, so if you need of any physical labor, I guarantee I am more than capable.”

The man planted his hands on his hips, facing the two with a determined look. His well built frame shook slightly, the wounds of the battle having caught up to him all too quickly. Despite the rest he may’ve gotten, it wasn’t enough to quell the aches and stings of the body. And soon enough, his pride had to take a back seat as he slowly sat back down. “.... Though perhaps it’ll have to wait until I am partially recovered...”

“Damn straight, it’ll have to wait.” Lily grumbled, standing up. A hand came up to rub at her face, clearly thinking hard on the situation as her hand slowly moved to rest on her lips. Delilah had taken to slamming what was left in her bottle in two hefty swallows before moving to the fridge to procure another drink which was likewise drained with a gusto. “Well, if Deli over there is going to drink all of my beer, I suppose I should go ahead and order some dinner....”

“... Order....? Are you of nobility? Did I lend insult by not recognizing this?” Gawain asked, sitting up a bit straight for a moment before wincing and slowly leaning back into his resting slouch. Lily reached forward, as if to handle him from her spot through some untapped mysticism only to sigh as he realigned himself.

“No, of course not. I’m about as noble as the concrete sidewalks.” She chuckled out, bringing a hand to her head. She blinked then as a thought came to her. “Ah... Right, you’re not from around here, you probably don’t even know what a phone is.”

“.... You are correct, I’m unaware what that may be.” Gawain said, tilting his head slightly. The sheet of messy blonde hair covered his eyes slightly as he did so. Delilah stepped back around, speaking to him as she leaned down to examine him now that he was all tended to.

“Do... What’s the most advanced piece of technology you can think of? Or remember from your home?” The question made the man think for a moment, raising a hand to rub his chin. His lips pursed in thought before his hands slowly came up in a shrug, wincing as the action pulled his back taut.

“The latest of inventions I’d ever heard of before the war efforts was the advancement of plumbing. A bit during the events of the war, we heard of a kind of oilless lamp being made and produced for cities and patrolling guards. The last thing a nobleman spoke of when I was guarding his tent had been mention of some ‘Great Iron Beast’ that supposedly ran on fire and water, supposedly to be used to transport scores of men and supplies. It was all hearsay, however. I never assumed one thing or another, given all that I witnessed in my travels.” He reported, rubbing his chin in thought. A frown furthered on his lips as his head turned to look at Delilah, seeing her large head was almost something of a pleasant thing with how much she reminded him of Alba. It almost brought a smile to his face. “Does that answer anything you two may’ve been wondering?”

“A lot, actually. It sounds like wherever you are from was not nearly as technologically advanced as I had hoped.” Lily mumbled. “Though, I should’ve assumed, seeing as you were dressed like you were going to a renaissance festival.”

“I absolutely was not. A festival I would’ve worn something far more comfortable.” Gawain protested, turning to jerk a thumb towards the bathroom. “Those armaments are for war or patrolling. I’d rather wear something far more breathable, even if my armor is as comfortable to wear, it’s just improper unless I was planning to join the dueling rings.”

Lily brought her face to her hands again, hands going up and down her features before slowly dragging back to her jaw and tugging her eyelids down. Delilah sifted around, going to squat to be closer to eye level with the man. “B-Before anything else-” Delilah began to save Lily anymore headache inducing misunderstandings- “I’m sure you’re very hungry, right? You’ve probably not eaten for at least several hours, and you were limping pretty bad by the time you got to the bathroom. S-So... Let’s give your body some rest and put some food in you, okay?”

Gawain wrinkled his nose at the placating speech he was being given, but he couldn’t deny that he was famished. He’d eaten barely a full meal before that final battle had begun, starting partially through the midday meal. That battle had lasted for hours, he’d been unconscious for who knows how long, and then the hours after he’d awoken had no less stretched on. He gave a small nod, a sigh of defeat echoing out of him. He felt pitiable with how useless he had become in this moment.

Despite his dower mood, Delilah’s tail brushed in a lazy sway behind her as she slowly stood up. A great paw almost came around to pat his shoulder, halting just before she touched his bandages and instead carefully pat the top of his head. The action caused a very confused look as the man turned his gaze to meet her own and in an instant Delilah pulled away, startled by herself and scooting back a few steps.

“I-I-I-I’ll go and get somethin’ ordered, o-okay? Get it delivered too, m-maybe get somethin’ for Maryl since s-she helped out too! Ahahaha... haha...haa.....” The great wolfish woman said, pulling a tablet of glass from her pocket and sliding out of sight towards the front door. Lily watched with a halflidded unreadable expression before her brilliant blue eyes turned to regard Gawain.

“Gawain.” She started, earning the man’s attention as he turned to look at her in turn. His hands clasped and unclasped one another in a nervous tick. “I don’t know quite what we’re going to have to do with you, once everything’s said and done. Once you’re recovered, we can’t exactly just... Let you go out into the world. God knows what may happen. So in some manner, we’re probably just going to have to get you registered and made an official citizen.”

“That does not sound so terrible. To become a citizen of a city is no more than paying a small fee and finding a place to spend your days, no?” He began, earning a soft smile and a weak shake of her head. “...Ah... So another disparaging difference I will soon have to acclimate to.”

“Yup. I’m afraid you’re going to have a lot to learn about here, and quick. If folks find out you’re from the freelands, that’s gonna be a hassle and a half for you. Everyone’s so quick to freak out about a ‘Free Lander’ just wandering cities nowadays since a handful of them caused a shitshow not too long ago.” Lily said with a dry, humorless laugh. Pushing herself from the couch, she walked along to the kitchen and towards the ice box. “Do you like beer, Gawain? Alcohol?”

“Mnh? Well, yes, I’ve been known to enjoy a few cups here and there. I’ve never been graced with more than honeyed mead or ale, and the grog that filled encampments. But nothing grander than that, I’m afraid.”

“Well good, because I’m not exactly a wine and whiskey kind of girl. And normally I’d not be telling a patient to drink so soon after injuries and recovery, but...” She began, pulling out a pair of brown bottles and walking around. She held one out to him and he saw moisture beading across the surface before he even grabbed it. As his fingers touched the chilled glass, he almost flinched. “It’s uh... The fridge. Keeps food real cool, so stuff lasts longer and drinks are cold.”

“I see... is that some kind of magic?” He asked, squeezing the bottle in his hand. He briefly brought the bottle to his cheek, seeing if it was some kind of trickery, but was pleasantly delighted at the cooling sensation that eased some of the sores and bruises on his face. A metal cap sealed the drink for him to which he looked and pursed his lips. Well that shouldn’t be too hard, the metal looked thin.

“Hah! I wish! Sadly no magic here, just fancy technology and electricity.” Lily said, walking back to her kitchen to open a drawer and pull out some kind of tool. “Here, you can use this to-”

She halted as she heard a soft ‘Clink’, watching as the man before her tucked his thumb beneath the metal and wrenched it upward, not quite pulling off the cap but bending it well enough that he could wiggle it off afterwards. Her jaw hung slightly open as she saw the man examining the warped metal before giving his thumb a small suck as it’d apparently stung to do.

“What a queer manner of sealing. These do not look like they are reusable.” He said, looking at her and carefully putting the cap on the countertop. Lily just swallowed briefly before going to use the bottle opener she’d acquired to open her own drink and leave it on the countertop. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen folks do that before. Delilah was certainly one who used her claws like a multi-tool, Maryl not being too much different, but to have seen a human do it was nothing short of shocking.

“They... Aren’t. Kind of the point...” She muttered before walking around, picking up his cap to look at while he took a small testing sip from the drink. She saw his nose wiggle in thought, scrunching up afterwards before taking another sip. As she overcame her shock, she meandered back to her spot at the couch and leaned against it. “Like it at all?”

“It’s.... Different from what I’m used to. Tastes far more earthy than the stuff I am used to.” He said, giving it a small shake before sniffing it. He took another drink and gave a weak laugh. “But it is not bad, I will say. Cooling and warming. And it already numbs the pain a slight bit. I must admit, this is a first for me, to have a drink so thoroughly cold. It’s refreshing.”

“Never had a cool drink ever?”

“Unless a pot of tea or grog that’s been off the fire counts, but nothing like this.” 

The two sat in silence, trading moments of sipping and swigging until Delilah walked back in, rubbing the side of her head with a clear look of mild frustration. She grumbled, going to Lily’s fridge to steal yet another bottle and crack it open with her claws. “Something got your tail, big lady?” Lily teased past the lip of her bottle.

“Turns out, this late into the night there’s almost nowhere open for delivery or take out, save for like.... Rudd’s Pizza or Mama Milly’s.” She said with a loathing sigh. “They’re fine, sure, but like... I was hoping to get something a little less intense on the stomach for the poor guy.”

“My guts are not something so twinging with timidity that they’ll contort to knots at a single tasting of whatever meal your people can contrive.” The man spoke, looking almost annoyed at the idea that his stomach couldn’t handle a new kind of meal. Admittedly, he hadn’t a huge variety of dishes, but he’d tried more spices, meats and new kinds of veggies and breads than any other man he’d spoken to. Delilah gave him a weak smile as she moved to finally take a rest in the room, grabbing a few of the pillows from the couch and tossing them onto the floor so she could sit without towering over everyone. Save her neck as well as everyone else’s.

“It’s just that the food is greasy, is all. But I mean, if you’re starvin’, I couldn’t see a reason not to get any. Rudd’s Pizza is closer, but Milly’s is actually probably a safer option.” Delilah mumbled, scratching at her cheek, Lily and Gawain watching the woman go through a shocking amount of thought. “Rudd’s will deliver, but we’d have to go and pick up Milly’s food, and we’ve all had a few drinks.... Mmnhh...”

“Ah coul’ go and pick’t up for ya.” Said a familiar voice that startled all three of the individuals. They all whipped around and turned their heads to the hallway, seeing the big crocodile woman leaning against the corner. She had changed her attire into a jumpsuit with a white shirt beneath, a tool box in one hand and a coy grin on her face. “Sorry ‘bout bargain’ in like dis, but had t’get my measurements on th’door and take it off its hinges. We got replacements down in the basement, thankfully, so the door won’ take too long t’fix. Boyo’s got a hellova kick though, damn thing’s got a hole in it big enough for m’fist.”

“A thousand apologies again.” Gawain said out of reflex, earning an annoyed look from Lily. The big woman sauntered in for a moment with a low whistle. She pushed the hat on her head up just enough that her yellow eyes could see him just a bit clearer.

“Heavens have mercy, hun, you got real fucked up, didn’ya? Glad th’ladies found ya then. Blessed to ya that a proper nurse found y’!” She said with a chortle before turning and wandering back towards the door with a hand over her shoulder. “But iffin’ y’all need someone t’go and get some food, go’ahead and hollar! Me and Terry were gonna head out anyway soon for breakfast. Hell, we could just car pool, iffin’ y’want!”

“In your old beater van, Maryl...?” Lily bemoaned getting a loud cackle in return.

“That ol’ beater’s a harder worker than all of us combined, Lily! It’ll out live ME!” Maryl’s voice petered out into a series of muffled giggles as she got back to work. The three of them looked between one another before Lily sighed and rubbed her forehead. Delilah merely shrugged when Gawain looked to her.

“Well, it’s not a bad i-idea... Maryl’s about the most trust worthy person we know. Her husband’s about as laid back as she is....” Delilah said only to earn more groans of annoyance from Lily. “C’mon, Lily, we both know this poor guy needs to eat, and pizza is the last thing you feed to a guy on an empty stomach.”

There was a long pause before Delilah began to scowl and then snorted. “Okay, then, how about I go ahead and see how many packets of rame-”

“OKAY.” Lily snapped. “Okay! I get it, Deli, I get it! Don’t bring up my groceries!”

Gawain watched as the wolf looked awfully smug in her verbal victory before Lily stood up and waved a hand in the air. “But there’s just one problem there, Delilah. What are we gonna put the poor guy in...? We can’t just have him walking around half naked, covered in bandages. We’re gonna be on the news with how fast people misinterpret shit nowadays.”

As Delilah’s ears pinned in thought, Gawain cleared his throat. “I... Did wash my equipment. If you’ve some means of helping me dry my gambison and underlayers, I could just wear my armour again. I would not mind. I’ve had to eat in it before.”

“No, we can’t do that, you’ll draw too much attention. Maybe we could ask Maryl’s husband?”

“L-Lily, look at him.” Delilah said, waving a large paw in his direction. “He’s built like a brick shit house and Terry’s a twink.”

“Terry’s not a god damn twink, Delilah! That’s rude!”

“Hey, I love Terry, but he’s got about as much muscle as you do and he’s not much bigger either.”

“Just because he’s short and thin’ don’t make him a twink!” Lily argued.

“I’m sorry, what’s a ‘Twink’...?” Gawain interrupted, making Lily sputter and wave her hands in the air, sloshing her beer in the process. Delilah spoke up before she could answer.

“Enough about twinks!” The cheetah almost shouted, taking a deep breath. “Look...! We can throw his stuff in the dryers downstairs, but he’s gonna need new clothes regardless.”

“Well, we can’t exactly go shoppin’, Lily, it’s five in the mornin’. No where’s open until like... Seven or eight.” Delilah said, jerking a hand out of her sleeve to find a watch that was just barely visible through her forest of fur. “But, I guess there’s plenty of pawn shops that open early. Could I just find some old stuff to bring home? Maybe even get some of his gold coins exchanged?” 

“That’s...!” Lily paused, tapping her lip. “Not a bad idea, actually... Okay, look, I’ll go start talkin’ to Maryl about our plans. You grab his stuff and go get it washed, you remember where the laundromat is in the place?”

“Y-Yeah, I do, I do. I suppose its the least I can do for all the beers you’ve let me nick.” She said, starting to stand. As she did, Gawain likewise began to stand and set his drink down. “Wh... What do you think you’re doing?”

“I.... Thought I’d come and help? I already feel poor making you two do all of this for my sake, especially when it sounds like it may end up continuing with how you both have been speaking. I’d like to at least offer some assistance.” Gawain stated, having to somewhat lean on the island counter in order to stay up.

“No no, sir, you can help by not hurting yourself anymore. Sit there, drink your drink and then get some water in you right after.” Delilah stated, walking over and putting a paw on his chest to gently push him back to his seat. He did try to resist, but his body was so weak without the rush of adrenaline in him that he flopped back into it with nothing more than a soft huff of shock and indignation. A smile formed on the canine’s lips before she leaned down and pat his knee. “Don’t worry, Gawain. Once you’re recovered, we’ll think of a way for you to pay us back, if not just literally with the coin you have. Alright?”

“Very well. I will oblige, if only not to screw up Miss Lily’s excellent medicine work.” He relented, going to cross his arms and frown. He did his best not to properly pout, but it was becoming difficult. “... I suppose I shall just remain here and close my eyes, if anything. It may allow me a moment's respite to think on things and see if there’s aught I can remember.”

“That’s the spirit! If anything comes to mind, just be sure to holler, okay?” She said before giving him another pat and standing to walk towards the bathroom to grab his things. “Just the cloth stuff, you said, right? Y-Your uh.... Gabisin? And uh... Underclothes?”

“Gambison, but yes. Just those things. I could wear them regardless, but wet or moist clothing can lead to serious chaffing if worn for too long under armor.” He said with a nod. A deep breath was had and he slowly leaned his head forward. “I cannot say how much I appreciate this behavior. I may not be of any particular noble blood, but I was taught to always repay kindness with kindness. So rest assured, I will not re-”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, dude, relax with the speeches and long winded remarks.” Lily said as she walked back in. “Let me get you to the couch so you can rest properly. But you’re laying on your stomach so you don’t ruin your bandages.”

Gawain felt his teeth click with how his jaw snapped shut at being interrupted. It irked him on some level, and he’d always been told that his way of speaking was more ‘proper’ and ‘articulate’. The lord’s son he’d been fighting under told him it’d make him look more distinguished among his peers and troop. Perhaps that was a lie? Or perhaps they were just far far different from the life he knew. Things seemed to be inching in that direction more and more as the hours bled on. He sighed and nodded as Lily approached him.

Finishing his drink and being helped to the couch, he was given a small time frame of about half an hour before anything would be happening. And he had that time to consider where he was and how he’d gotten here. He hadn’t been totally truthful with the ladies either. He did remember more than he let on, the battle, the fireball that’d been summoned, the witches and shamans, the barbarians and their warriors. Alba.

The man’s eyes slowly shut and buried his face into the pillows that were beneath him on the couch. He’d lost so much since joining Lord Maquis’ faction. His friends, his sensibility, his dignity, Alba and now he was practically lost in the world. His home was gods knows how far away from this strange place and he was without any knowledge of how to get there. For all intents and purposes, the man may as well have been dead. His mind drifted off on that thought, body relaxing with a long sigh and being taken to dreams of home. Of a stable, horses and pigs, and a home cooked meal.