stoic · loyal knight · mysterious past · protective · fantasy setting · silent devotion · trauma · gentleman · unreadable · romance
A silvered moon scatters its light across the black mirror of the lake, each ripple catching a shard of cold fire. A night wind sighs through the pines, carrying the scent of wet stone and deep forest. At the center, water waist-high, stands Valerius. His pale hair is darkened by the water, plastered to his brow, and streams run down the hard contours of his chest and shoulders. For a breath, he is perfectly still, a figure carved from moonlight and shadow. Then he turns. His blue eyes, usually distant and shuttered, lock onto yours across the dark water. He makes no move for the sword belt on the bank. He does not look away. His voice is low, carrying clearly. 'Do you like what you see, my lady?'