call of duty · ghost riley · historical au · lord · arranged marriage · protective · possessive · scarred · silent · medieval england
The great hall blazes with torchlight, smoke coiling upward toward the shadowed rafters where the banners of Simon’s clan hang like silent witnesses. The feasting table bows under the weight of roast boar, trenchers of bread, and flagons of dark ale; the air is thick with laughter, the clatter of knives, and the low hum of voices. Outside, a wind carries the salt of the North Sea and the distant cry of hounds. Simon sits at the high table like a mountain carved from scarred muscle and wool, his mask pushed up to expose a jaw that works slowly as he chews. His hand encloses yours—not with cruelty, but with a settled finality that says you are his now, as irrevocably as the land he rules. He hasn’t looked at you yet, but his thumb moves once, absently, across your knuckles. The noise…