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Crimea was your pride and joy. You had known no other country. You needed no other country.
You would do whatever you needed to do in order to defend it. And so, you enlisted as one of the Royal Knights. It was rare for a woman to join, but it was not looked down upon. The women of the court were encouraged to learn to fight -- in these times of war, it was important to be safe. Your skill with a lance wasn't particularly impressive, but you were willing to learn. Meanwhile, your horse would help you.
Tsaber was your father's horse, a beautiful charger with a gentle temperament fit for any beginner. Your father decided that it would be best for you to take Tsaber with you because he trusted the beast. You wouldn't be safer on any other horse. Besides, you already knew Tsaber. He was young for a horse, but a quick learner, so it would be an adventure for both of you.
Your father was one of the Crimean Royal Knights, a courageous warrior who fought for the queen's honor. He encouraged you to join the Knights, even though your mother was reluctant to put you in such danger. You wanted this, though, and no one could stop you.
When you started training, you were taught by General Geoffrey, the head of Crimean Royal Knights. You were surprised that you would be trained by someone of such a high rank, but you could hardly complain -- the man was gorgeous. Besides, you had only heard good things about him from your father, who had ridden into battle with him on multiple occasions. He promised you that you would be in good hands.
"Keep both eyes open!" Geoffrey advised, as you raced past him and aimed your javelin at one of the targets set up for training. It hit the outer rim of the target, barely scraping the blue paint.
You slowed Tsaber to a trot, bringing him around again to see how you had done. A sigh escaped your lips. This would never do... you'd never hit anyone at this rate. It seemed as though you weren't the only one having trouble, which was good news, you supposed. Some of the new recruits' javelins hadn't even touched the intended target.
Geoffrey clapped his hands together to gather everyone's attention. "Alright! That's enough for one day. You are all to report back here tomorrow morning, same time! Now go have a well-earned rest."
You leaned forward, patting your horse on the neck. "Let's get going, boy," you said. "If I'm sore and exhausted, I know you must be." While you were not making progress as quickly as you would have liked to, you were still improving little by little. If anything, your physical condition had improved greatly since you started training.
Tsaber merely snorted, shaking his head as you guided him back to the stables. There, you removed his bridle and his saddle and even checked his hooves. You made sure that he was as comfortable as possible, giving him a good grooming before fetching him water and oats. Even though you would be late to dinner, you didn't care -- you stayed longer than the other recruits did. The stable was long empty before you were finished. Your priority was to make sure that Tsaber was well taken care of.
Little did you know that Geoffrey was watching you the entire time. His horse was situated only a few stalls away from Tsaber's, and he stayed as long as you did, tending to his charger.
As you combed through your stallion's mane, you spoke to him gently in hushed tones.
"This horse must mean a lot to you. You're spending quite a bit of time on it."
Geoffrey's voice startled you, but you quickly regained composure. You glanced over at your officer's stall. "Yes, sir. Your horse must mean a lot to you. You're also taking good care of yours." It was true that you loved Tsaber, your father's horse and a close friend.
"As any knight should," he replied, brushing his horse's coat. "You seem to understand that more than the other recruits."
"Sir, I can't fight well if my horse isn't in top condition." You petted Tsaber's nose as he nickered playfully. "My father always told me that on the battlefield, your horse is your other half. In order to be a successful knight, you must master the horse even before you master the sword." You smiled, pulling something out of a sack. "And he suggested that I do that with carrots." You tossed Geoffrey a carrot, while Tsaber eagerly dove his nose into the sack. Of course, you couldn't help but laugh.
Geoffrey caught the carrot, returning the smile as he fed his horse. "Your father is a wise man, _____, and an excellent knight. I'm glad to have had the honor of riding into battle with him."
You dipped your head toward him. "Thank you. He says the same thing about you. He's told me stories about your valor, protecting the queen and restoring Crimea."
"Is he the reason why you've joined Crimea's Royal Knights?"
"More or less." You gave Tsaber the last of the carrots, and he munched away happily. "I've got to do something with my life. What better service can I be to my country than to join its army and protect its people?"
He glanced at you briefly. "Crimea is fortunate to have you."
You gave him a sheepish grin in return. "Not if I can't aim a javelin."
"You'll learn. It's something that all new recruits need to work on. You're not going to have perfect aim over night. Give yourself some time -- you've only been here for a few days."
With a small sigh, you replied, "It's much harder than it looks, you know. You make it seem so easy." You remembered when Geoffrey first threw his javelin as an example for everyone else. As his arm arched backward and then forward, the graceful motion appeared to be effortless. And, as you could have guessed, his aim was also perfect -- he hit the bull's eye right in the middle.
"Only after years of practice. There was a time when I struggled like you."
"You started training when you were young, I assume?"
"Yes," he said. "I've always known that I wanted to be a knight. When I told my parents, they sent me here immediately. I started out as a squire, and then worked my way up from there."
"And here you are now, the Crimean General. You must have worked hard. You're not even that old."
To your pleasant surprise, he laughed. "I'm young for a general, yes." He gave his horse one last pat on the neck before adding, "Come with me. I want to show you what you're doing wrong with that javelin."
It was strange that he would offer to show you, especially since you didn't ask. Maybe you made it seem like you were asking, but you didn't mind having a private lesson from him. You followed Geoffrey outside, where he pointed at the targets. "The one in the middle. Aim for that one."
You took up your javelin, ready to throw it.
"Ah!" he interrupted. "Stop right there. Don't move."
You kept your poise as Geoffrey walked around you to study your javelin arm. Mentally, you tried to correct yourself, wondering if he was going to say what you already knew. You had keenly memorized everything that he had told you -- the only problem was that you couldn't unconsciously follow any of it just yet. You had to remind yourself of everything.
He reached up to position your arm at a different angle. "Your elbow is too far out," he corrected. "You're exerting energy that you don't need to use. Bring your elbow in just a little bit..." He gently moved your arm forward and back, showing you the motion you needed to throw it. "You see? That's much better."
It did feel better. In fact, it seemed like the forward swing of your arm felt more natural. You would be able to aim better with this advice. With Geoffrey's consent, you took aim and threw the javelin forward. It hit the intended target, only two rings away from the bull's eye, a huge improvement from before. You couldn't help grinning to yourself like a child.
"There you go." He gave you a pat on the back. "You should be making perfect hits in no time. And once you are able to do this naturally, you know you're ready for battle."
Practice continued every day. General Geoffrey trained with the new recruits as often as he could, though there were occasions when he was sent off to do something for the queen. It was then that your recruit group was assigned someone else to work with. It was fine by you, though you had begun to grow accustomed to Geoffrey's training style -- he was firm but fair, praising those who deserved it and encouraging those who needed it.
You also talked to him in the stables quite often, holding conversations as though you were old friends while you tended to your horses. This was odd, you realized, considering that he was the Crimean General and you were nothing more than a new cavalier who had not even been promoted to a paladin.
At the same time, you enjoyed the attention that he gave you. He often offered you tips and other advice that he didn't have the chance to mention in the day's practice. You certainly didn't mind, though it made you wonder what he thought of you -- were you just an eager recruit whom he wanted to succeed? Or were you something more?
One day, as you lifted Tsaber's saddle off his back, you discovered how much stronger you were becoming. A few months ago, you would have struggled under the weight of the heavy leather. Now, you held it in your arms with relative ease. "I'm getting stronger..." you said, mostly to yourself, though Geoffrey overheard you.
"You are," he replied, several stalls over. "I can see it in the way you hold your lance. You used to be burdened with anything other than a slim lance. Now you can manage heavier ones without much trouble. You've improved significantly in all areas."
"Thank you," you answered. "It's really all thanks to you. I wouldn't have improved so much without your help."
"It's only my duty to make sure that you all become the best knights you can be."
You absentmindedly played with Tsaber's ears, while he ate a handful of oats from your hand. Was that really the reason why Geoffrey was always helping you? Only because it was his "duty?" Not that he was doing anything wrong, if that was the reason... though it made your heart sink. You weren't even entirely sure why; you only had a vague idea.
He might have been kind and handsome, but that didn't give you an excuse to fall in love. In fact, it would be dangerous for you to do so. You had to set these feelings aside, because having a relationship with your commanding officer would be disastrous, for both you and him. In some ways, people might have deemed it inappropriate -- he might choose to protect you over protecting the queen. His loyalty might be in question. Your loyalty might be in question.
Besides, everyone already knew that he was particularly fond of the queen. He told you that he had grown up with her; he had watched her grow into the person that she was today. They seemed like they would be the perfect couple, but, truth be told, while Queen Elincia was also fond of Geoffrey, it didn't appear that their relationship would ever blossom...
"_____?"
You shook your head, his voice bringing you back to reality. Your musings would have to wait. "Oh, sorry," you said. "I was just thinking."
"You seem distracted. Something you want to share?" he asked.
"No, it's nothing. I was just thinking about today's training is all." You decided that it would be best to change the subject. "Can you go over the formations with me again? They seem to have slipped my mind."
Geoffrey stopped what he was doing, pacing over toward you. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?" He rested a hand on your shoulder. "It's unlike you to forget the day's lesson. You're the one who usually remembers everything."
You shrugged lightly. "I guess I'm just a little tired." Unfortunately, you were terrible at lying and making excuses.
"Are you sure?" He looked skeptical.
"Thanks for your concern, but I'm fine -- really!" You gave him a smile. "I just need some food and a good night's rest." You then picked up a brush and proceeded to groom Tsaber.
He nodded. "Alright, I trust you. I'll see you tomorrow. Take care of yourself."
"Goodnight, General."
"Goodnight, _____." He then exited, leaving you by yourself in the stables.
Once you were sure that he was gone, you let your forehead fall upon Tsaber's strong back. "Well, that could have gone better," you sighed. The horse nickered as if to agree. You glared at him. "Let's see you do the talking next time."
Tsaber merely continued with his dinner.
Geoffrey wasn't there the next day.
Nor the next.
Nor the next.
The captain taking over for him didn't give your team any details, and when asked, he simply said that he was not to reply to any questions concerning the General's whereabouts. You could only assume that he had been sent away on one of his missions -- and you were fairly sure of that because your father had been assigned to leave for a distant town to settle some things. They likely went together. Of course, you were somewhat disappointed that Geoffrey had to leave, but that was his job -- he had to be where he was needed.
Obviously, there were more important things for a general to do than to train recruits who had already been in the program for several weeks. There were others who were just as suited for the task.
You merely shrugged it off; you couldn't admit that you missed him or else it'd be like confirming with yourself that you had feelings for him. As you had rationalized with yourself on multiple occasions, you couldn't fall in love with your commanding officer... it simply wasn't right. Furthermore, if he had the intention of pursuing a romantic relationship with anyone, you were sure that it would be with the queen herself. You couldn't keep thinking about him.
You continued training without him for a several weeks. You had begun to wonder if he would ever return, when you found him in the stables one morning. It was a day that your superior officer had declared to be for rest. Most everyone else left the care of the horses to the stable boys, but you wanted to see Tsaber for yourself, to groom him and to ride him briefly.
"Oh, Sir Geoffrey, good morning!" you greeted upon stepping into the stables. "I didn't expect to see you in here. How are things?"
He looked up from his horse, seeming to flinch when he heard your voice.
Had you done something wrong?
"_____," he began slowly, "there is something that I need to tell you." His eyes were saddened, grave, and they immediately demanded your attention.
"Yes, General?" you replied, now worried about what he was going to say.
He set down the brush that he had been holding, coming toward you. He was only a short distance away from you, when he reached out to place both hands on your shoulders. "I just returned from a mission, as you likely know. This is about your father..."
You froze.
When he saw the expression on your face, he knew that you realized what he was going to say. "I'm sorry, _____... he fought bravely. He died with honor..."
Although it was kind of him to say that, it didn't soothe you -- you knew that your father had fought bravely, you knew that he had died with honor. It wouldn't have been like your father otherwise... the fact was that he was gone. And it hurt.
You were a knight of Crimea. What happened next shouldn't have happened, especially not in front of your commanding officer... but it did. It began when you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, the tears that mourned your loved one's death. You couldn't, and then you tried wiping them away with dignity. Yet, that didn't work either. You felt as though your heart was breaking into thousands of pieces, each one being further crushed into more pieces.
The next thing you knew, you had crumpled into Geoffrey's arms, sobbing against his chest.
Later, when you thought about what had happened, you wondered why he didn't push you away, stand you back up, tell you to be stouthearted and then carry on with his everyday life. He must have seen death a lot; to hold a title such as the general -- this was a path of grief. Constantly, Geoffrey was surrounded by the death of his comrades, his friends, his loved ones... you would think that he had become immune to this already. Often times, he was the one who sent them to their deaths. Had he really become hardened to this reality?
...but he was there, holding you and letting you cry your heart out.
Surely, he didn't do this with every knight who had a loved one die. Well, you supposed that you wouldn't know. You thought about asking your father. Only... he was no longer there.
He was gone.
And so, you cried yourself to sleep that night, trying to keep quiet so you didn't disturb the other girls you shared the room with.
You were embarrassed to see him the next day. Geoffrey was back to training, and he acted as though nothing had happened the day before. You wondered what his opinion was of you now. He had offered comforting words and gestures yesterday, but what did he really think of you? Did he think that you were weak, that you couldn't become a knight now that you had broken upon hearing news of your father's death?
He didn't speak with you at first. Was he disappointed in your behavior? Did he not ever want to talk to you again? Maybe he would never want you in his army because you couldn't be trusted to remain strong when the enemy closed in and the situation was desperate? You couldn't tell.
As you trotted Tsaber up to the target, you thought about how mellow and somber the horse was being with you today. Normally, he would nicker playfully when you greeted him in the morning, but he realized that you were deeply saddened about something, even though he did not know what it was. He remained quiet, following you obediently wherever you went.
You nudged him forward, your javelin held high. Tsaber broke out into a canter toward your target, and as you headed toward it, you raised your arm, throwing the javelin. You probably missed. You didn't care; you barely put any conscious effort into aiming anyway. Over the past several weeks, your aim had improved significantly. In fact, you almost always made the bull's eye.
But your heart simply wasn't into it now.
Tsaber rounded the end of the course, and he turned back around as he always did, so you could see the results. You didn't care enough to look, so you stared straight ahead where Geoffrey was waiting. You made eye contact with him, only to see him smile approvingly. He nodded toward the target, so you turned to look.
It was a perfect bull's eye. You were utterly surprised. The movement now felt so natural to you that you hardly needed to put any thought into the motion.
This lightened the mood a bit. Knowing that you were improving and becoming better... your father would have been proud.
Geoffrey realized this, and he even mentioned it to you later that day, when the both of you were left in the stables.
"Are you feeling any better?" he asked, when the last cavalier other than you had left the stables. "I know that you'll never entirely recover from your father's passing, but time heals all wounds..."
"Eventually," you added quietly. "Time heals all wounds eventually." You appreciated his concern, though you weren't ready to talk yet. Your loss still pained you deeply.
"But only if you let it."
You shrugged, running a hand down Tsaber's strong neck. "Eventually," you repeated. "I'll let it eventually." It was then that you thought about your poor mother; you wondered how she was faring. Honestly, she probably wasn't doing any better than you were. You were worried about her.
The expression on your face must have changed because Geoffrey set his horse's saddle aside, only to walk toward you. "Is there anything I can do?"
"My poor mother," you began. "The news must have killed her... she's all alone now." The thought of your mother sitting at the window sill weeping was heartbreaking. But as a knight-in-training, you knew that you wouldn't be permitted to go home. That was one of the program's regulations. In the future, you would have to face death -- you couldn't run away from it.
To your surprise, without hesitation, Geoffrey offered, "Would you like to go home?"
You thought about what he said. Was he asking whether or not you wanted to see your mother? Or was he suggesting that you go home permanently, leaving the Crimean Royal Knights behind? Because if he meant the former, he was much too kind; and if he meant the latter, you would be embarrassed that he wanted you gone so soon.
Your silence must have made him rethink his query. "I mean," he said, "would you like to visit her? Just to make sure that she's doing alright? And maybe even take a short breaking from training yourself?"
"But, General... I... you're granting me a temporary leave from training? ...you can do that?"
"Of course I can do that. I am in charge of the training regimes," he replied with a small smile. "And afterward, if you want, I'd like you to continue your training with the Crimean Royal Knights -- no pressure, though. If you'd prefer to stay with the recruits, you can do that too. I just want you to know that the option is there."
You blinked. Very few of the recruits would be joining the Crimean Royal Knights this early -- only the best. "...you really think I'm ready?"
"I know you are. Even with the loss of your father, you performed exceptionally well today, better than most of your fellow cavaliers, in fact. You've proven that we can rely on your skills, even through the worst of times. It's the mark of a knight. I would be honored if you would join the army."
For the first time since you had heard the tragic news, you smiled. "No, it's my honor to fight with such a worthy commanding officer."
"Then go on." He motioned at the door with a dip of his head. "What are you waiting for? Take Tsaber and ride home. Come back in three days. Then I'll officially reassign you."
You re-tacked Tsaber as quickly as you could without being sloppy with your horse. He seemed to understand the importance of your mission so he behaved, standing still while you tightened the saddle's strap, accepting the bit of his bridle without protest. Once you were finished, you stood next to the horse, ready to hoist yourself up, when you turned to look to the side.
Geoffrey had been watching you the whole time. He beamed. "Go on, _____. Your mother's waiting."
You couldn't just leave. Not without properly saying goodbye. But you didn't think that there were any words that you could say to fully express your appreciation. Instead, you did the next best thing. You walked toward Geoffrey, your eyes on his the entire time. There was a brief pause when you stopped right in front of him. Both of you just watched each other wistfully, waiting for the other to do or say something.
Finally, you took a breath and embraced him.
He returned the gesture immediately, much to your relief (you weren't even sure if you were allowed to hug your commanding officer). "No more hesitation," he said softly into your hair. "Get going before the sun sets. And be careful." Geoffrey then released you, giving you a gentle push toward Tsaber.
"Don't worry, General. I will. Thank you for everything." You mounted your horse, easing him out of his stall. "By the way, I believe you when you say that time heals all wounds. Thanks for giving me that time." With a squeeze of your heels, you sent Tsaber charging out of the stables. You were on your way home.
The Crimean General stood at the stable entrance, one hand on the door frame. He watched you as you rode off into the horizon. "Come back, _____. Come back safely to me."
And even though you didn't look back, you had a feeling that Geoffrey wished you well and hoped that you would return in high spirits.