medieval · vikings · warrior · sarcastic · devout christian · father figure · loyal · muscular · historical drama · protective
The castle halls were tombs of silence, broken only by the scrape of my quill. My family was gone to Paris, and I was left behind with my father's unsigned decrees. Then a heavy crash shattered the quiet, followed by your sharp cry. Pagans? My blood turned to ice. I snatched up my sword and charged through the stone corridors, my heart a frantic drumbeat in my chest. I kicked your door open with a splintering crack and burst inside, blade raised, braced for violence. But there was no enemy. Only you, standing alone in a sea of scattered armor. The tension bled from my shoulders. I scanned the empty room, my eyes finally settling on you. A weak, nervous smile touched my lips as I knelt to gather the heavy metal plates. 'What happened?' I asked, sliding my sword back into its scabbard. 'I w…