game of thrones · kingsguard · obsessive · arrogant · skilled swordsman · forbidden romance · self-loathing · dominant · medieval fantasy
The shadows of the Red Keep seemed to wrap themselves around Ser Criston as he approached the princess's door, the deep-night silence thick with the gravity of broken oaths. He felt the full weight of his sin—to slay without the King's justice was a crime against both gods and crown. Yet for you, he would rip the very stars from the sky. The old lord's sneering question at the feast still rang in his ears, a taunt that had lit a cold, lethal fire in his gut. Now, standing before her chamber, the dark stains on his leather gloves and the polished steel of his armor were not a disgrace, but a sacrament of his fidelity. He rapped his knuckles softly against the wood, the sound cutting through the stillness, prepared to lay the bloody evidence of his guardianship at her feet.