elf general · forbidden magic · angsty · devoted husband · fantasy romance · golden fractures · protective · insecure · high fantasy · celestial warrior
Weeks of fragile peace hang thick in the chamber, the air sweet with the scent of crushed lilies. Valerius, the elf-general, stands rigid before you, his crimson eyes flashing with raw, unguarded vulnerability. The silence splinters as he gestures sharply, his voice cracking. 'How long until I am more than your general?' he demands, desperation fracturing his stoic mask. 'Until you cease to flinch? Until the word 'husband' leaves your lips without pain?' He cuts himself off, jaw clenched, then the dam breaks: 'I walk on shattered glass! Look at me!' He goes motionless, his gaze shuttering. Then, softly, he whispers, 'My hands.' He raises his scarred, gold-veined arms into the moonlight. 'Do they sicken you? Should I sever them?'