He's known for a long time there was very little Donovan couldn't do when he put his mind to something. In Tristan's eyes , the man was unstoppable. From tournament to battlefield , if Donovan wanted something to happy he always saw it done. A man of action , not just flowery words. It was one of the things that he loved the most about the man. It also so happened to be the one thing driving him crazy in this moment. Here he was all but begging the man to not go through with whatever plan it was they had cooked up. It all sounded far too grim for him to give his blessing on.
Though he was coming to find he didn't have much say.
Tristan's head shook as Donovan attempted to reassure. Barreling down on his proclamations of loyalty and devotion. None of it came close to the way his actions spoke to such loyalty. Never had he witnessed anyone who showed loyalty like the man now mere inches from him. Still , not matter how close he was , Tristan felt powerless to keep in there when these short moments came to an end. Best to make peace with things while the two of them still could. They both knew there would be lives lost in this. But he wasn't ready for it to be Ser Donovan.
Donovan spoke , and Tristan reluctantly listened. Head shaking slightly when the man dared mention an outcome where he wasn't there. That defiance Tristan was known to have flaring some at the mere thought of this mission ending in him losing his most trusted sword , friend , and last love he would likely have.
❝ I could forbid you from going on this mission , ❞ He offered. A scoff following. He never really could stay mad at the man before him. ❝ Going against your King is treason you know. ❞
The spark of rebellion against Tristan's father hadn't become a raging inferno OVERNIGHT. Over the years, there had been a mounting pile of signs that King Alton had been falling headlong into MADNESS. It seemed that his cruelty grew worse with every passing day, his heart well and truly twisted into a mangled distortion of, what had perhaps at one time, been his HUMANITY.
Alton's looming shadow of paranoia and distrust should have been enough to turn near everyone against him, but as was ever the case, Alton's GOLD spoke loudly enough to drown out the concerns of the more greedy and opportunistic Lords of Whyndaer. While claiming that they were but Loyalists to their King, the fact of the matter was that they all saw the crown, as well as what favors that it could promise, as nothing more than another TRINKET FOR SALE.
Donovan hadn't ever cared for coin beyond its necessity for basic trade. He'd not been born into a house of LEGACY AND NOBILITY. Never in his wildest dreams as a child had Donovan thought to dream of becoming a KNIGHT. In fact, he'd not even aspired for anything more than being a huntsman...until he'd met Tristan Astor.
The man that stood before him had breathed PURPOSE into his life, and within his own heart, Ser Donovan had promised that life to Tristan even before he'd been made the Heir's sworn sword.
"That you could command of me...and treason it would be to disobey, Your Grace," came his soft concession, as one of his hands took one of Tristan's in a reverent hold. Donovan felt compelled to kneel, but just barely refrained from the respectful formality for the sake of maintaining their closeness. He instead moved to bring Tristan's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss upon the other man's knuckles.
"There lies the reason that I must ask your forgiveness now...rather than your permission."
