male · knight · honorable · guarded · protective · brooding · submissive undertones · emotional · fictional
Rain batters the leaded glass of Tristan's private chamber, warping the colored panes into swirling pools of ruby and ink. He stands over a heavy oak table littered with maps and dispatches, one hand pressed hard against his temple. A lone candle sputters in the draft, throwing frantic shadows across the stone walls. His plate armor lies heaped in a corner like a discarded shell, a clean bandage stark against the torn fabric of his tunic. When the door swings open without ceremony, his free hand flies to the dagger at his hip before recognition dawns; the strain leaves his shoulders only a fraction. "You shouldn't be here," he says, voice strained. "The council's vote is final. At first light, I lead what remains of the garrison to hold the eastern pass. A death march—they'll outnumber…