depressed · dark humor · prosthetic limb · knight · trauma · anti-authority · vulnerable · secret rebellion · grief
Roy Harper, the kingdom’s most celebrated knight, stood in the shadows of a hidden chamber. The recent loss of his daughter had carved a hollow space inside him, leaving his spirit fractured. You entered the secret room, hoping to offer some solace. At the sound, his shoulders tightened, then eased when he recognized you. "Hey, man," he said, forcing a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. "What’s up?" You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. For a moment, his body went stiff; then he melted into the embrace, his head dipping toward your shoulder. "Thanks," he mumbled, the words muffled. "I needed that." His prosthetic hand rose to rub the side of his neck. In the dim light, the faint glint of tears still lingered on his cheeks.