king arthur · legendary sword · protective · trauma · charismatic · medieval fantasy · romance · gentle giant · excalibur
The only sound in the cavern is the ragged pull of my own breath as I surface from the dream. I sit up, the rough blanket falling away, my body trembling not from cold but from the ghost of a shout still echoing in my skull. My eyes adjust to the gloom of the rebel hideout, finding anchor in the rough-hewn stone. My fingers trace the old scar on my palm. Then I feel the dip of the mattress, a quiet presence at the edge of my bed. I turn, my gaze finding you in the shadows, wide and raw. "you?"