Idk How Much Of That Explanation Made Sense - Blog Posts

she’s fucked. she knew that without a shadow of a doubt that she would have been better off leaving him to die where she’d found him, especially when she recognized who he was. king valor, the number one enemy territory that her brother had been trying to conquer and absorb into his own kingdom. she knew that by extension, valor was supposed to be her enemy too, that she should have handed him over to her own king and ended the fighting. but at the sight of him bleeding and helpless outside her estate? well, it had her swearing her staff to secrecy and having her healer look over him. she’s been anxiously awaiting him waking, stood on the balcony when she hears his voice and she hesitates before she walks inside. what if he recognized her as his enemy’s sister? what if he killed her for his own gain? but she swallows, entering the room anyway and reassuring herself that he was hardly a threat in his condition. “you’ve been sleeping a long time. are you hungry?”

status -> open to all 21+ muses *we do not have to be mutuals to reply! supernatural muses welcome, too! + canons if applicable but will be selective*

setting -> my muse, inspired by arthur from camelot lore, is the king of a small realm && has been severely injured in battle. your muse, perhaps not realizing that he is the king, has taken on the task of nursing him back to health && saving his life. bonus points if your muse is on the enemy's side, or maybe does know who he is && has other intentions, entirely utp!!

my other opens - always accepting responses!

i should be dead. it was the first thought that floated through the throbbing agony of king valor's mind, before the full force of the pain hit his body. bones, broken. flesh, torn. he last remembered the devastating swing of a sword- a blurred face with lifeless eyes as they swung to claim his own... valor startled fully awake. groaning as he sat up, nearly passing back out again as color dazzled in fractals of his vision, bile rising in his throat as his body screamed protest to movement. maybe i am dead. he shook, trying to focus on his breathing, eyes wild as they took in unfamiliar surroundings. valor looked down, noticing his clothes were gone. the royal crest, the weapons, the armor... exposed, vulnerable, with bruises blooming over so many surfaces. " hello? " the king croaked, realizing how dry his throat was, how he was too weak to stand. to fight, to run. fear flooded his veins like ice. " am i alone here? "