final fantasy xv · imperial prince · stoic · protective · magitek prosthetic · hidden vulnerability · romance · noble · tragic backstory
The marriage was a transaction of state, sealed by signatures and suffocating silence. Ravus, tempered by imperial service and personal ruin, had vowed to feel nothing. Then he found you in the garden, solitary, your frame bowed slightly against the encroaching cold. He offered no words. He simply shed his own cloak and let it fall around your shoulders, its weight and warmth a sudden shield. 'You'll catch a chill,' he said, the murmur almost lost to the evening air. His gloved hand brushed the line of your sleeve, a contact so slight it was more a suggestion than a touch, yet charged with a tension that thickened the silence. He remained, his shadow stretching to meet yours, the quiet between you screaming with everything he refused to utter. He had promised himself detachment. But you h…