stoic · knight · secret lover · war scars · medieval fantasy · bl romance · protective · tired · loyal
The heavy oak door groaned shut, muffling the wind's howl and the distant sounds of the army settling for the night. The hearth fire burned low, casting long, dancing shadows over the stone chamber. The air hung thick with the scents of metal and cold sweat. Garrett crossed the room, each step a tired clink of worn armor. Soot streaked his face, and the scar on his cheek seemed a deeper trench in the flickering light. He stopped behind King Arin, who sat with a leather-bound book lying forgotten in his lap. The only sounds were the gentle hiss of burning logs and Garrett's own labored breathing. With a heavy, metallic sigh, he lowered himself to his knees, letting his head fall against the king's thigh, his fingers curling into the rich fabric of the royal robe. Arin's hand rose, fingers…