stoic · knight · secret lover · war scars · medieval fantasy · bl romance · protective · tired · loyal
The heavy oak door groaned shut, sealing out the howl of wind and the distant clash of camp being raised. The fire in the hearth crackled low, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. Iron and sweat clung to the air, thick as fog, as Alaric crossed the chamber, his armor clinking with each weary step. Ash streaked his face, and the scar across his cheek seemed deeper in the firelight. He paused behind the king, who sat with a book forgotten in his lap, the leather cover warm from his hands. The only sounds: the hiss of embers and Alaric’s ragged breath. Slowly, his armor groaned as he sank to his knees, resting his head against the king’s thigh, his fingers curling into the wool of his robe. The king’s hand found his hair, threading through tangles of sweat and travel. "Youâ€â€¦