{Cursed imagine}

{This imagine contains SPOILERS for the end of Cursed so if you have not seen the last episode, then I recommend not reading this!}

~

He was completely surrounded by Trinity guards. They took turns swinging their weapons at him, causing him to grow weaker by the second. Both of his swords were knocked from his grasp, leaving him to shield his face with his hands from the violent blows. He fell to his knees, unable to.

Squirrel watched from behind a few barrels as the Weeping Monk took the violent beating. One of the Trinity guards took a final swing, knocking him straight to the ground. They closed in their circle around him, one guard picking the Monk up by his shoulder, pulling down the hood of his cloak, revealing his battered and bloody face.

Just before the guard could do any more damage to the Monk, an arrow was shot right through the guard's shoulder, sending him fumbling backward. Everyone was caught by surprise, trying to find where the mystery arrow had come from. Squirrel seized this opportunity and came out from behind the barrels, grabbing a sword from the ground.

The brave little boy stood his ground, scared out of his mind, but determined to save the Weeping Monk. "Who's first?" He shouted, holding the blade out in front of himself. One Trinity guard began taking small steps towards the boy, when another arrow was shot, hitting another right in the chest. Squirrel looked in the direction the arrow was coming from, only to see a girl who stood not too far from them, holding a bow.

The girl ran from her place beside the tent, draping the bow over her shoulders and taking out a sword of her own. She ran toward the guard and began to swing, taking them out instantly. This gave the Monk enough time to pick up his own sword and start slaughtering them.

Together, he and the mystery girl stabbed and decapitated the Trinity guards that surrounded them.

"Watch out!" She'd yell, just before she'd slice one's neck over the Monk's head. It gave him enough time to dodge her swing.

After much blood was spilled, the last guard had fallen. To be sure that one was 100% dead, the girl walked over and picked up his limp body, snapping his neck. Squirrel still stood by the barrels, amazed by what he had just witnessed. 

The Weeping Monk weakly held up his sword and pointed it towards Abbott, warning him. Abbott slowly backed away with a blank expression, turning back towards the tents.

The girl rushed to the Monk's side as he fell to his knees, weak from the blood loss and exhausted from the battle. Squirrel rushed from his place at the barrels to help him up.

"Come on young one, grab his arm, that's it." The girl strained towards the boy as she threw the weak Monk's arm over her shoulder, trying to hold him up. Squirrel helped as best as he could, holding up his torso as the girl led them through the camp.

"Just a little further," she said, weakened herself. She was heading towards some horses that were next to a tent. "Can you ride by yourself boy?" She found herself asking him. "Not sure the three of us could fit on one horse."

Although Squirrel didn't appreciate her calling him 'young one' or 'boy,' there was no time to argue.

"Yes, I can m'lady." He replied.

"Alright then, help me get him up." She said as they approached the horses. The Weeping Monk reached his hands out and grabbed onto the saddle, hoisting himself up as the girl and Squirrel helped push him up.

Once he was up, the young boy climbed onto the horse next to them before the girl pulled herself onto the same horse as the Monk. He wrapped his arms around her waist to ensure that he stayed on the steed. She turned towards the young boy next to her and sent him a nod, telling him that it was time for them to move.

She hit the side of her horse with her ankle and Squirrel mirrored her actions. Both horses began to walk, steering them out of the fire filled camp and into the night.

~

"How are you holding up there boy?" The girl turned to Squirrel on the horse next to her. Though he was extremely tired, he powered through the night on his horse awake.

"I'm doing alright." He told her in a sleepy tone.

"How about you?" She asked the Weeping Monk behind her.

"I could be worse," he answered in a raspy tone. "Hanging in there."

"Okay, well we won't be on horseback much longer, it's just up ahead." She pointed towards the road ahead of them.

"What's up ahead?" The young boy asked.

"My camp, we're not too far from it." She answered, placing a hand over her eyes to block out the sun. "Pardon me, but I have yet to introduce myself, I'm Y/n. What is your name, young lad?"

"Squirrel," he told her, looking down.

"That's the name of an animal," the Monk said from behind her. "What is your real name, boy?"

Squirrel avoided looking at them as he answered, "Percival," he sighed. "But I prefer Squirrel. What about you Weeping Monk?"

Since Y/n was focusing on looking out from her camp, she could only listen to what Squirrel and the Weeping Monk were saying. He drew a deep breath, before he said, "Lancelot."

"Thank you m'lady Y/n for saving us." Squirrel said, a little more perky since the sun was up.

"Oh please, just Y/n will do nicely, I am no royalty." She assured him as a half-smile came onto her face.

"Okay, Y/n, thank you for helping us." He corrected himself.

"It was no matter Squirrel, now come on, my camp is just in those trees." She pointed towards a forest that they were becoming close to.

Due to The Weeping Monk's injuries, Y/n wanted to walk the horses to make it easier for him, which took more time to reach her campsite, taking the horses through the unmarked trail that led up to a small tent with a fire pit a couple of yards in front of it.

Y/n swung her legs to one side and hopped off of her horse, grabbing a hold of the bridal, leading it towards a tree. She tied it onto a branch and did the same with Squirrel's horse. He hopped off of his horse and she stood next to hers.

"Okay, can you help me out here Squirrel?" she asked, although it didn't sound much like asking to the young boy, he nodded his head and assisted her. Squirrel stood on the other side of the horse and helped push his foot over toward her. Lancelot held onto the saddle for support as he slid down. Y/n placed an arm around his waist and one of his arms over her shoulders. Since they were riding for so long, although his legs felt weak, Lancelot had a bit more strength than before. He was able to hold himself up just enough to help her take himself to her tent.

Squirrel held it open for the two to walk in. The Monk observed the inside over her surprisingly large tent. There was a table fashioned from an old log along with a seat in front of it. To the other side was a wooden plank with a rolled-up article of clothing as a pillow to act as a bed.

"Here, just sit here." She drew a deep breath, struggling to hold him up any longer. He put his hand down on the table before fully sitting down on the seat. Y/n walked over to a little box in the corner of her tent and pulled out an even smaller box. She grabbed a small bucket of water that sat next to it and a white cloth. She brought what was in her hands to the small table and stood before Lancelot.

"Squirrel, could you step out for a minute lad? This will only take a moment," she assured him. He sent her a half-smile and a nod, slipping out of the tent.

"Alright, first things first, the cloak has to come off, it's all ripped up and full of blood." She exclaimed. 

The Weeping Monk looked up at her, reluctantly taking the cloak off and handing it to her. Y/n placed it aside and examined his wounds.

"Now, I'm no healer, but I can surely patch you up to the best of my abilities. May I?" She referred to the gashes on his stomach, face, and shoulder.

"Just do what you must," he groaned weakly.

Y/n dipped the cloth in the bucket of water and rung it out. "This might sting a little," she warned before beginning to carefully clear away as much blood as she could. Lancelot gritted his teeth, groaning at the huge sensation of pain he was feeling. He gripped onto the table so hard that he thought he'd break it at one point.

"Sorry, I'm almost done," she told him, moving to wipe the blood off of his shoulder. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed the many scars that were on his back, her eyes trailing along every single one.

The Monk had a lump in his throat, knowing that she had seen them. He felt ashamed by them, scared of judgment. Y/n just cleared her throat and moved onto the next thing as it were nothing. "Let's see if I can get you stitched up now." She dropped the cloth in the bucket and moved her hand to the little box on the table.

"Here," she held out a flask filled with alcohol for him to take. "This is gonna hurt more, unfortunately." He took it from her hands and downed a few gulps. He let out some agonizing grunts of pain that even made Squirrel a little queasy. But he sighed in relief when she finally cut the last string.

"All done, here's another cloak," she said, handing him a piece of fabric. Lancelot groaned as he put on the cloak, sure his injuries were patches up, but he was still in a great deal of pain.

"Who taught you how to do that if you're not a healer?" he asked her as she began putting stuff away.

"Well, what can I say," she shrugged. "You learn a lot on your own when you're no more than 13." Y/n sent him a small smile and continued with what she was doing. This left him wondering as she picked up the bucket and took it outside of the tent to dump it.

"Hey Squirrel," she called to the boy who was sitting by the firepit. He looked up from the stick he had in his hands and walked over to her.

"Do you know how to work a bow?" she raised her eyebrow at him.

"Yes, I could get a bullseye any day." He grinned confidently.

"Alright, could you take my bow with you and go fetch some wood for the fire?" she asked, a little unsure that he'd be okay on his own. 

"Yes, I can." He replied, taking the bow that she was offering him.

"Okay, stay close within the forest. There shouldn't be any civilization for miles, but just to be safe." She watched as Squirrel went off into the forest in search of wood, meanwhile, she went back inside the tent to see how her guest was holding up.

He continued to drink what was in the flask she had given him. Not too much to make him drunk or tipsy, but enough to take the pain away. She sat down on another small seat that was next to the table and although she didn't want to, she couldn't stop thinking about the many scars that were on his back. And without thinking, she blurted out,

"You're not the only one with forever lasting marks." There was a bit of silence as the Monk had thought over her exact words.

"We all have them, Lancelot, even if we do feel ashamed." She sighed, knowing what she was to do next. Y/n rolled up the sleeve that covered her left arm, revealing many long slashes that went from the top of her shoulder to the bottom of her wrist. This caught his attention as he began to study them.

"Father didn't like that fact that I wasn't his own, and boy did he sure have a way of showing it." she chuckled sadly to herself, remembering the horrible memories of home. "It was difficult to get away, but once I did, I never looked back." She rolled her sleeve back down, covering them up again.

The man that sat at her small table admired how brave Y/n appeared to be. She seemed strong and fearless, verses he felt powerless and defeated, more than he's ever felt before.

"You're strong, I admire that about you," he said out loud, taking another swig from the flask.

"Well, we all end up this way somehow," she shrugged as she took the flask from his hand, taking a drink for herself.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Lancelot sighed, watching her as she drank. He had become weirdly mesmerized just by looking at her, not feeling the need to tear his eyes away from her.

"Y/n! I'm back with the wood!" They heard a boy shout from outside the tent. Y/n screwed the cap back on the flask and set it down on the table.

She reached for the pack that was propped at the entrance, filled with arrows, and swung it over her shoulder. "No more alcohol at least for now. I'm going to go set the fire and catch us some lunch. My suggestion is that you stay here until I return, I'll have Squirrel keep an eye out."

"Well, it doesn't seem like I'm going anywhere anyways does it?" he smirked, being smart. She just smiled and shook her head before walking out of the tent and sending the young boy in.

(A/n: PSA! I apologize if I don't publish anything next week, I am currently working on a story🤭 and am a terrible multitasker! So bear with me, for I have so many ideas for this book!)