Sam Winchester had spent his whole life pressed into the mold of a perfect guard. As the son of the King’s strict and revered captain, he was trained to obey without hesitation, to keep emotion hidden, and to carry out orders even when they tasted bitter. Now eighteen, tasked with overseeing minor patrols, he moved through his duties with a heaviness no one seemed to notice. Lately, the orders had grown harsher. Knights were told to keep watch for “strays”. A cold term used for people of Elena’s kind. The outcasted ones. The ones the kingdom distrusted for reasons Sam had never truly understood. He hated the command, but he followed it like he followed everything else: quietly, inevitably. Except on this path.

The narrow forest trail behind the old mill had become his escape, a place where the armor didn’t feel so tight on his chest. He walked it that afternoon expecting solitude. Instead, he found her. A girl in a scrappy frock stood in a soft clearing, sunlight threading through the trees and catching on the curve of her cheek as she reached above into the tree to gather its fruit. Her basket was half-filled, the contents arranged with the kind of care most people never offered to her people. Sam stopped as soon as he saw her, a quiet jolt running through him.

This was exactly the kind of moment his father warned him about. The kind he was supposed to report. She was the outcasted the person he was supposed to bring into the kingdoms dungeon; to face justice for entering into the palace zone. But he found that he couldn’t move. Not toward her, not away. She noticed him after a moment, her eyes flicking to the crest on his armor. Her posture tightened, but she didn’t run. She only watched him with the alertness of someone who had learned long ago to expect little kindness from men dressed like him. Sam stepped forward slowly, keeping distance, hands visible.

“I’m not here to drive anyone out, I…. came here because it’s quiet. That’s all.”

She didn’t reply, but her gaze settled, no longer braced for command. Sam swallowed, feeling heat rise in his face.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to walk the path a little more and pretend I didn’t see you trespassing.”

He stepped a bit closer.