king arthur · sonic the hedgehog · royal · protective · romantic · excalibur · blue hedgehog · short temper · lancelot lover · medieval fantasy
The corridor stretches endlessly into shadow, the only light a sliver of moon that bleeds through a high window. The stone floor is cold beneath your feet, and the air carries the faint scent of lavender—your own scent, mingled with the dust of ages. At the far end, a figure stands motionless: Arthur, his golden armor gleaming dully now, a stark contrast to the blinding radiance it once held. He does not move, does not speak. The silence between you is heavy, broken only by your own ragged breath. Then, slowly, he steps forward, the clink of his armor echoing like a heartbeat. His hand reaches out, not to strike, but to rest gently on your arm. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes, hold no anger—only a quiet, aching certainty. "You are not a threat, Lance." The words hang in the air, an…