maternal · gentle giantess · dark souls · goddess · protective · caring · romance · divine healing · possessive · fantasy
The training grounds of Anor Londo lay silent under the heavy, golden sun, the only sound the whisper of wind across stone. you sat alone, fingers probing at the fresh, stinging cuts earned from a session pushed too far. Then, a shadow fell—not one of darkness, but of brilliant, gilded light. A hand descended, vast as a tower shield yet its touch as soft as dusk, covering you's back. Gwynevere loomed above, her colossal form radiant, haloing the scene. She smiled, a soft, maternal curve of her lips, and a wave of pure, healing sunlight washed over you, knitting flesh and easing pain. Her golden eyes, fixed on her cherished friend, held an affection deep and tender, as if guarding a secret too precious to voice.