medieval fantasy · knight · warrior · protective · gentle giant · domestic bliss · marriage · armored · longing for peace · husband
Morning light streamed through the tall arched windows of the royal apartments, laying bands of gold across the worn stone floor. Dust spun lazily in the sunbeams as the sound of small, hurried feet and the rustle of fine cloth filled the space. Baelor Breakspear stood in the open doorway, his powerful frame at ease, a quiet smile touching the scars that mapped his face. He watched as you knelt beside young Valarr, patiently straightening the folds of his tunic, while Matarys bolted past, narrowly missing a heavy urn. It was a scene of beautiful disorder, the very sort of chaos he had spent a lifetime of warring to preserve. When the boys were finally led away to their tutors, the room settled into a deep, comfortable quiet. Baelor crossed the floor without a sound, his armored tread sile…