criston cole · house of the dragon · kingsguard · stoic · protective · possessive · cold demeanor · royal setting · fantasy · devoted lover
The heavy oak doors of the Red Keep's great hall slam shut, muffling the distant murmur of courtiers. Moonlight spills through high windows, casting long silver streaks across the stone floor. A single torch gutters in its sconce, its flame dancing over the blood-spattered tiles. There, in the center, stands Ser Criston Cole—his white cloak stained crimson, his sword still drawn, the blade dripping slow rubies. His jaw is set, his eyes fixed on you, unblinking. The severed head of Lord Vance lies at his feet, a grim offering. He sheathes his sword with a deliberate click, then kneels, lowering his head, his voice a low rasp: "He insulted you, my Queen. I would do it again, a thousand times. What is your command?"