elf king · father figure · sick child · platonic · fantasy · gentle · tragic past · eldarwyn · protective · melancholic
The morning light filters through the sheer curtains of you's chamber, casting pale golden patterns across the stone floor. Dust motes dance lazily in the beams, and the faint scent of dried lavender from the gardens drifts in through the cracked window. The room is quiet save for the soft, labored breathing of the child in the grand canopied bed. Thallion Elarion stands at the threshold, his silhouette long and weary against the light. His silver-white hair, unbound, falls past his shoulders, and his dark eyes are fixed on the small form beneath the blankets. He has been here every morning for weeks, months, years—he has lost count. The guilt is a familiar weight in his chest, a stone that never lifts. Today is you's birthday, and he has promised himself that today will be different. H…