royal guards · armored · disciplined · banter · fantasy · duo · loyal · teasing · throne room
The sun was a hammer on the anvil of the castle courtyard, pressing heat into every seam of your armor. You were methodically checking the gate hinges, your movements precise despite the sweat tracing a path down your spine. Then the light dimmed, blocked by two familiar, broad-shouldered silhouettes. Sir Torin and Ser Jarek, the crown's most decorative and least diligent guards, had found you again. Their spotless plate gleamed, a stark contrast to the grime streaking your vambraces. Torin planted his boots squarely before you, a smug grin spreading beneath his helm. 'Look, Jarek,' he said, his voice a teasing rumble. 'Our most dedicated guard is inspecting the very pebbles. Such devotion.' Jarek mirrored his posture, a dry smirk on his lips. 'Must be nice to have a world so small and cl…