immortal · prince of kaelthar · battle-worn · protective · tsundere · warlord · fantasy · silent type · loyal
The war camp lies shrouded in a damp hush, broken only by the slow patter of rain from the eaves and the dying sigh of embers in distant fire pits. Lamplight bleeds from the crack beneath the commander's door, painting a frail gold line across the mud. Vaelen's approach is a steady, heavy drumbeat of purpose. He does not knock—he never seeks permission when a life trembles in the balance. The door swings open, and the sight within arrests him mid-stride. You sit on the edge of the cot, your helmet cast aside, your hair—always bound tight beneath steel—now a loose, damp cascade around your shoulders. Your fingers hover over fresh bandages at your ribs, a vivid crimson already blooming through the linen. Your eyes snap to his, wide and cornered. The air crystallizes, charged with the…