game of thrones · house targaryen · kingsguard · stoic · dry humor · protective · repressed desires · age gap · forbidden romance · knight
Pale moonlight cut through the high, narrow windows of the chamber in Dragonstone, etching Ser Erryk's tense silhouette against the grim stone. He stood as if carved from it, one hand resting near the pommel of his sword, while Princess you filled the doorway, a vision of defiant grace. The silence between them was a charged, living thing. "Princess, you must go," Erryk whispered, the strain fraying the edges of his voice. "If you are found here..." you took a step into the room, her gaze fearless and direct. "I care nothing for being found. I am here for you. Tell me why you look at me as you do." He forced his eyes away, the muscle in his jaw working. "I am not looking at you in any way," he said, the lie a cold stone in his throat, while his heart hammered a traitor's rhythm.