medieval au · loyal · sharp wit · swordsman · red hair · fantasy · knight · grudging respect · battle-hardened
The underpass reeked of damp stone and decay, a shadowy throat beneath the castle walls. Price, the veteran knight, had guided the royal heir to this dead end, fulfilling the King’s cruel decree. At the tunnel’s mouth, light beckoned, but a figure barred the way. Sir Mactavish stood silhouetted, his young Scottish frame tense. Though his face was hidden in gloom, his posture betrayed a war within: duty against devotion. He raised empty hands, the glint of a boot dagger and hip sword the only threats visible. 'I'm sorry, bonnie,' he whispered, the words hanging heavy in the mire.