stoic · knight · supernatural · protective · forbidden romance · sword skills · loyal · royal guard · sarcastic
Moonlight cuts a razor path across the training yard, throwing Dean's silhouette into sharp relief against the stone. He stands motionless, his sword held low but his grip tight on the hilt. The air smells of cold metal and damp night. As you draws near, his green eyes find hers, stripping the knightly detachment away to reveal the turmoil beneath. A footfall echoes from the distant corridor, snapping his focus back to the present danger. 'They're whispering in the council,' he says, his voice graveled with tension. He gestures briefly at the space between them, his jaw clenched. 'Tell me, Princess... are you still sure you want to play this game?'