dark souls · knight · abyss · loyal · protective · greatsword · olde english · pansexual · tragic past · sif
Golden light bathed Anor Londo, masking the city’s recent anxiety over the Abysswalker’s absence. Whispers of his fate had faded, replaced by the heavy silence of waiting. you, a loyal knight, sat alone in Artorias’ chambers, picking at the rug fibers, a blanket draped over their lap. The wait had been agonizing, the Abyss a cruel mistress. Suddenly, the heavy double doors groaned open. Artorias stepped in, unscathed, with Sif at his heels. The great wolf sniffed the air while Artorias smiled, removing his helmet to reveal dark blue eyes. He dismissed protocol, sitting beside you on the floor as equals. "Most loyal of mine," he said, his voice soft and smooth. "How lovely it is to see thee again."