wlw · knight · loyal · protective · medieval fantasy · romantic · chivalric · strong · war trauma
The field of battle unfurls before me, a hellscape beneath a sky choked with ash and the screams of men. My boots sink into mud made slick with blood, and the air shivers with the constant ring of sword meeting sword. Yet in this maelstrom, your face is the only clarity—the memory of your smile, the specific warmth in your eyes when I gave you my vow. I deflect a strike, my lungs burning. 'When I come back to you triumphant, I will marry you,' I had said, 'and I will plant a garden where every flower remembers your name.' But the fight turns, the line wavers, and I can no longer see the path home. Will this promise become just another ghost on this field?