ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ
Glenn is 15 and being a teenager is difficult, being a knight is difficult, and being a teenage knight is a miserable combination of the both.
@shieIdknight
Glenn returns to the knights’ quarters late from the palace one night. Prince Dimitri had gotten a new book, which of course meant that he wanted to read it a million times until he had memorized every word and burned all the pictures into the backs of his eyelids. And when he kept asking with those big blue eyes and little pout, how was Glenn supposed to say no?
The answer, of course, was that he couldn’t. So he sat in bed with Dimitri until Dimitri had fallen asleep. Glenn had almost also fallen asleep, himself, after listening to Dimitri read the story for the tenth or so time. But thankfully he had managed to keep his eyes open. With the little prince asleep, Glenn had placed the book off to the side and tucked him in before heading out. Oddly enough, King Lambert had been awake and in the entryway as Glenn had been leaving.
“Glenn! You were still here?” Lambert seemed surprised for a moment before realization hit him. “Ah, you were reading with Dimitri, weren’t you? Him and those storybooks.” A laugh. “Thank you for staying up and reading with him.” The king placed his hand on Glenn’s shoulder with a smile. “I’ll make it up to you. Why don’t you take your old room, for tonight,” he had offered.
Glenn had politely declined. He didn’t want to make it look like the king was playing favorites. It was already difficult being the youngest knight in the Royal Guard. He was only fifteen, after all. Plus, being a teenager was already difficult enough without the knight duties and responsibilities and expectations.
As such, Glenn had made his way back to the knights’ quarters alone and in the dark. Not that it bothered him. He’d just gotten used to the banter of the older knights to fill the silence on the way back. Heading back alone felt longer in the silence.
It is later than usual, though, so Glenn is quiet as he walks through the halls. He doesn’t want to wake anyone up. That would be rude. And probably also piss someone off. And really, Glenn didn’t want to deal with any of that, if he didn’t have to. The older knights could be so grouchy and had the tendency to look for things to get onto him about just because he was younger. While Glenn was eager to learn more from his more experienced colleagues, he was also pretty confident that he deserved to be a knight just as much as the rest of them.
So, sure, Glenn would go back at the older knights when they belittled him instead of ignoring it or just letting it go. And, sure, he had a bit of a sarcastic or blunt way of phrasing things, depending on the situation. But they started it. They were the ones making comments and acting like he didn’t deserve his position. He was just defending his honor. And he didn’t deserve to be looked down upon. He wasn’t just going to stand there and take their bullshit.
It didn’t help that Glenn had no friends his own age. Sylvain was the only one even close to his age and the Margrave practically kept him under lock and key. Also, Sylvain seemed closer with the younger three kids whenever they 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 all together. Everyone always said that Glenn was ‘mature for his age.’ So maybe that was why. Well, until he was knighted, and then suddenly he suddenly wasn’t ‘mature for his age’ anymore. All the adults that had praised him for his natural talent and quick learning were suddenly looking down on him and acting like he hadn’t earned his position. It made no sense.
Glenn turns down the hall to get to his room and the sound of distant voices catches his attention. He’s not sure why anyone else would be up. Night shift had already swapped out with the afternoon shift. But, whatever, he decides, it isn’t any of his business.
As he nears the door where the voices are coming from, he hears the men speaking inside much clearer.
“Some of these new knights and squires really think that they’re equivalent to seasoned professionals, don’t they?” one voice asks.
A laugh comes from inside. “You aren’t kidding. Don’t their fathers teach them any manners? You’d think they were leaving that responsibility to us!”
Glenn runs his tongue over his incisors. 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘨𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯, Glenn thinks bitterly, rolling his eyes. He keeps walking, ignoring the gossip.
“Especially that Fraldarius brat,” someone says and Glenn pauses in his steps, hands balling into fists at his side.
“That kid is so arrogant. My word,” the same voice continues.
“If I was a fancy Crest Noble, my son would be a knight already, too,” someone replies. “And he’d be much more well behaved.” More laughter erupts from within.
Annoying. It’s really frustrating. Glenn should turn around, throw open the door, and give them a piece of his mind. That wasn’t why he was a knight already! He’d worked just as hard as anyone else! Maybe even harder!
“That kid isn’t gonna make it until his 20th birthday, with his attitude,” someone agrees.
“We better watch out,” the first speaker says, tone mocking. “Someone might hear us and rat us out to the Duke and then little Glenny-boy’s daddy will get involved and cuddle up to the King and make of all his problems go away~”
Laughter erupts, louder this time, from the three or four men inside. Glenn deflates and stalks off back toward his room, head down. His cheeks burn with embarrassment. None of that was true. They’d always been hard on him during training, but what they said behind his back was somehow worse.
Glenn gets to his room and shuts the door before ripping pieces of his armor off of himself and tossing it into a pile on the floor. He pulls his coat off and tosses that, too. His shirt follows shortly after. Glenn huffs out a loud sigh, hands coming down on the table in his room, and hangs his head over the basin of water sitting there for him to use to wash up. He takes a deep breath before submerging his head and yelling in frustration into the silence of the water. When he pulls his head up, he looks at himself in the mirror, staring into his own blue eyes.
𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.
𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥.
𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥! 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥!
When he squeezes his eyes closed, he can hear the whispers of praise that he had always received growing up.
𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘋𝘶𝘬𝘦 𝘍𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘶𝘴! 𝘈 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭!
𝘏𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦! 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥!
𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨! 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘯’𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘺, 𝘚𝘪𝘳!
Glenn opens his eyes and stares at himself again. Had it been true? Had any of it been true? Were they serious or just flattering his father all this time? Had his father pulled strings to get him where he was? Was all of his hard work empty all this time?
𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦, he thinks, as he turns away from his reflection, unable to bear looking at it any longer. He just needs to sleep. Tomorrow, he’ll go out there and keep training hard and getting stronger. Those bitter old men will eat their words. Anyone who ever doubted him will be sorry. He’ll show them.