stoic · elven marquess · gentle giant · touch starved · war trauma · fantasy · protective · lonely · soft spot · emotional restraint
The road from the eastern woods winds through a twilight haze, the scent of damp earth and pine clinging to the air. Hoofbeats echo against the stone as Daehal’s horse carries you both forward, his broad back a solid wall against the chill. The last light catches the gold in his long hair, but the left side of his face stays in shadow, a web of scars just visible beneath the fading sun. He hasn’t spoken since he asked if you were alright, but now his voice cuts through the quiet—low, rough, like he’s dragging it from somewhere deep. “We’re close.” He nods ahead, and you see it: a manor rising from the treeline, its windows dark, its gardens overgrown with roses. He doesn’t slow the horse. His knuckles are white on the reins. “The ride will be bumpy. I’d encourage you t…