Chapter Text
There was only so far you could isolate yourself in a unit full of young men teeming with rowdy energy and big personalities. Place a sword in their hand and a shield on their back and you’ve got yourself a headache.
Regina was no stranger to isolation (though it had never been by choice). And the loneliness – she couldn’t say it left her unaffected, but it was constant and reliable; it brought her a curious sort of comfort.
She knew the ins and outs of keeping herself busy. A good book. A long ride on horseback. A couple hours of practice with her sword. But the men of her unit had a fantastic way of inserting themselves into those activities, and it had only gotten worse since she advanced from training.
Her first day in the training yards had turned more than a few heads. Her build was, and still is, much smaller than the rest of the men. So, when they paired her up to spar with a larger and bulkier opponent, everyone sort of scoffed. If bets could have been placed they would have all been on the other guy, of that Regina’s sure. And maybe that’s why the win felt so satisfying. To be underestimated, and so passively, set a fire inside of her. Though, even without that spark, the match wouldn’t have been much trouble. Her quick movements allowed her to easily gain the upper hand. The man had been staggered by her agility. The execution of both his defensive and offensive measures were too slow to keep up with Regina. Ultimately he found himself signaling defeat, not being able to continue the beat down.
The yard had erupted in disbelief and praise. More than one of the men attempted to barrage her with celebratory pats on the back and promises of drinks at the tavern but Regina was gone before they could get a word in.
Despite the very public show of her skills, it was easy to maintain the cool and detached demeanor when everyone around her was focused on their own journey into knighthood. Sure, they all kept an eye on her, any man would after the talent she displayed, but it was from a distance. None of them felt compelled to break past the wall she had so clearly put up and that was fine with her.
But, the men in her unit got a little more bold. Contrary to popular belief, things were more lax once you landed yourself the title of knight. Or rather, the day to day schedule wasn’t as vigorous. The long days of training turned into long days of traveling to investigate issues throughout the kingdom. These trips, sometimes spanning months, were always with the same group of knights. Since the men had heard whispers of her time in training, they all wanted to prod her about it. And, they had all of the time in the world as they moved about the forests and long dirt roads.
They had managed to get a few details out of her but for the most part she kept things tight lipped. She didn’t want the questioning to go any deeper. Silly sparring stories, she could handle. Personal accounts of her past, she could not. Even now, a full year with her unit, she continues to hold herself back from getting too close to her fellow knights. And, with good reason–
“Mills!” She snaps out of her reverie, turning herself to the direction the voice came from.
Jefferson.
She takes a deep breath, running her hand through her short hair. Jefferson’s the most dedicated thorn in her side. Out of everyone in the regiment, he’s always the one trying to occupy her time. (Whether that’s positive or negative falls to what kind of mood she’s in.)
He jogs his way up to her, giving her a juvenile shove. “Where’ve you been? The guys are about to head out to the tavern in the village.”
Of course. The men insist on getting their fill of ale at the end of every journey. She’d been naive to think they’d forgo it in light of the early wake up call in the morning.
“That’s good for the guys.” She says. She feels the unspoken question in the air and knows what’s coming next.
“Come on, Mills, you’ve got to come. Some of us could use the extra help getting the village ladies’ attention.” At Regina’s snicker he continues, “Not me, of course! I’m just looking out for everyone else.”
Regina shakes her head playfully. That she didn’t expect. She knew of her reputation in being good with the ladies but she never thought anyone would be so brazen to bring it up to her. She safely assumed that their egos were more than a little sore and couldn’t handle admitting it out loud.
Smugness aside, the thought of a night out was tempting. And, If she’s being honest with herself, she knows she’s being performative in her reluctance. Nights in these taverns are often her favorite. A lot of that has to do with the women, sure, but she can’t deny the drinks and camaraderie allow her a chance to relax. Though, if Jefferson knew that, it wouldn’t be as fun.
“Buy my first round and promise me the men won’t be too invasive with their questioning.” She says.
Jefferson claps a hand on her back. “That’s the man I know!”
She gives a breathy laugh, and if it wavers a little, he doesn’t notice. “Let me fix myself up. I’ll meet up with you guys in 10.”
Jefferson gives a nod and retreats back to their impromptu base, comprised of rows and rows of tents. She remains a good distance away by a large pond with just enough foliage to allow for privacy.
After a sharp scan of the area she begins to strip as quickly as she can. She had ditched her armour as soon as they set up camp, so she’s left with her too large shirt and trousers. Once they’re discarded, she removes her underwear and the vest binding her chest. She makes sure the garments are tucked under her clothes and hurriedly submerges herself in the pond.
She lets out a sigh of relief.
It’s been two years and the panic of changing and bathing have yet to subside. There’s always a lurking fear that her womanly features would be discovered, no matter how clear the coast may be. Even the allusion to her being a man triggers her fight or flight response, fearing they know something is up.
She allows for her hands to roam her body, scrubbing off the dirt and grime from a long journey. It’s a quick wash, but it gets the job done and leaves her feeling refreshed. Before she climbs out to redress she slicks back what little hair she has.
It’s been too long since she has allowed herself to indulge in a night out. So much of her life has been spent harbouring her traumas and living every day in spite of them. It’s a constant struggle of pushing herself past her known limits. To have to disguise herself, on top of all of that, exhausts her.
Pulling herself together she begins to make the small trek back to her base. The men are sure to be raring to go, and, casting her worried thoughts aside, she can admit she’s a bit excited herself.
She’ll gather these nights as they come, collecting them like daisies in a dying field. The memories will serve to remind her that there is light in this darkness.
In the morning, she will rise with the sun and face the day head on, breathing in her vengeance once more.