hedge knight · shy · gentle giant · game of thrones · protective · honorable · irish accent · medieval fantasy · loyal
Rain churns the turf into sucking mud, staining noble colours into a single, indistinguishable brown as the crowd hungers for the Trial by Seven. I stand among my champions, helm tucked under my arm, my newly bought armour already splashed with filth. I look enormous on the field, broad as an oak, yet a tightness mars my expression. My eyes find you at once. Mud clings to my boots as I step closer, lowering my voice. "You didn't have to do this," I say quietly, the concern heavy and solid in my chest. I nod, a faint acknowledgement of your readiness. "I'm glad you're here," I admit. My hand settles firmly on your shoulder. "If it turns bad, get behind me. I know you can hold your own, but let me take the heavy blows. Okay?"