Days stretched into weeks, and Valjean's infatuation with Aric only deepened. She was lost in the whirlwind of her dream come true, and King could only watch from the sidelines as she drifted further from him. The campfires that had once been filled with their laughter and shared stories were now dominated by Aric's voice, spinning tales of his grand exploits and victories.
But there was something in those stories that unsettled King, a hint of deceit beneath the heroism. Aric spoke too easily of leaving men behind in battle, of making deals with questionable allies. Valjean, blinded by her feelings, brushed off King's concerns as if they were born from jealousy. In truth, a part of King's heart ached with envy, but his instincts told him there was more to Aric than he let on.
One evening, as the sun dipped low over the hills, King confronted Valjean. They were alone, a rare moment without Aric by her side. She was sharpening her sword, her face glowing in the fading light, when King approached.
"Valjean," King began, his voice low and steady, "there's something you need to know about Aric."
She looked up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "King, not this again. What is it now?"
He hesitated, unsure of how to voice the storm of doubts brewing inside him. "I don't trust him. There's something off about the way he talks, about the things he's done. He's not the man you think he is."
Valjean's eyes narrowed. "Are you accusing him of lying? You don't know him like I do, King. He's been nothing but honest with me."
King took a deep breath. "I'm not saying this out of jealousy, Valjean. I'm saying it because I care about you. I've always cared about you."
Her expression softened for a moment, but it was quickly replaced with frustration. "I don't understand why you're doing this. Can't you just be happy for me?"
King's heart sank. He had hoped that, in this quiet moment, she might finally see the truth he had carried for so long. But the wall between them was taller than ever, built brick by brick from the distance they had created.
Before he could respond, Aric emerged from the woods, his expression unreadable as he approached. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice smooth but laced with an edge that made King's skin crawl.
Valjean stood quickly, her face brightening at the sight of him. "No, we were just talking."
Aric glanced at King, his gaze sharp as a blade. "Seems like more than just talking." There was a challenge in his eyes, one that King recognized all too well.
But before King could respond, Valjean stepped between them. "Enough," she said, her voice firm. "I don't want this. I need both of you to get along."
Aric smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Of course, my love. If that's what you want."
King bit his tongue, the weight of unspoken words pressing against his chest. He knew there was no point in pushing further, not tonight. He watched as Aric took Valjean's hand, leading her away into the gathering dusk. King remained by the fire, staring into the flames as they crackled and danced, feeling more alone than ever.
The next day, Valjean and Aric left the camp on a journey to a nearby town. They planned to return by nightfall, but when the moon rose high in the sky, King was still waiting by the fire. His unease grew with every passing hour until, finally, he decided to search for them.
Riding through the darkened woods, King followed the trail they had taken, his heart pounding in his chest. Something wasn't right. As he pushed further into the forest, the sound of voices reached his ears—raised, angry voices.
King dismounted and moved carefully toward the sound, keeping to the shadows. When he reached the clearing, he saw them: Valjean and Aric, standing apart, locked in a heated argument.
"You lied to me!" Valjean's voice trembled with fury. "All those stories, they weren't yours. You've been hiding the truth from me this whole time!"
Aric's face twisted with anger. "What difference does it make? You fell for the man I showed you, didn't you? The man you wanted to see?"
Valjean shook her head, her hand on her sword. "I fell for a lie. And I won't be made a fool of."
Before either of them could act, King stepped into the clearing. Valjean's eyes flickered toward him, filled with confusion and relief. "King?"
Aric's face darkened as he turned to King. "You! This is your fault, isn't it? You've poisoned her mind against me."
King ignored Aric's accusations, his eyes only on Valjean. "What happened?"
Valjean took a shaky breath. "He's not who he says he is. All his stories, his so-called victories—they're stolen from other men. He's been lying to me, King."
King's heart pounded, a mixture of anger and vindication swelling inside him. But now wasn't the time for "I told you so." Now was the time to protect her.
Aric, seeing the turn of events, snarled. "You've always wanted her for yourself, haven't you? You think you can take her from me now?"
King stepped forward, his hand steady on the hilt of his sword. "I don't need to take her. She can see the truth for herself."
Aric's eyes flashed with rage, and in one swift movement, he drew his blade. The air between them crackled with tension as King prepared to defend himself, but Valjean stepped forward, her sword drawn as well.
"This ends now," she said, her voice strong, no longer the dreamer chasing a fantasy. She was a warrior, standing tall, ready to fight for her own truth.
The three of them stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, swords glinting in the moonlight. And then, with a snarl, Aric lunged.
But Valjean was faster. She parried his strike with ease, and within moments, the fight was over. Aric's sword clattered to the ground, and he fell to his knees, defeated.
Valjean looked down at him, her face hard. "Leave. And never come near me again."
Without another word, Aric stumbled to his feet and disappeared into the woods, his figure swallowed by the night.
When he was gone, Valjean turned to King, her eyes heavy with the weight of everything that had happened. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't see it. I didn't see him for what he really was."
King shook his head, stepping closer to her. "You couldn't have known. He played the part too well."
For a moment, they stood in silence, the night air cool against their skin. Then Valjean reached out, placing a hand on King's arm. "You've always been there for me. Even when I couldn't see it."
King's heart swelled with emotion, but he kept his voice steady. "I always will be, Valjean. No matter what."
And as they stood there, beneath the stars, something shifted between them. The distance that had grown over the months began to close, and for the first time, Valjean looked at King not just as her friend but as something more.