T H I R D W O E ;
@becomesdeath --- historical au ! year 1370c.e.
♰ ♰ ♰ sinclair portier was under - dressed as far as he was concerned. but no , the king didn’t want his clunky armor making so much noise through the night , so chainmail & a single sword was all he’d been allowed to carry. if the room & charge he’d been ordered to guard was in a less - defensible location , he’d worry that they didn’t care much for little liudolf’s well - being. . . which time had shown him wasn’t the case ; but it always bothered him a bit to have to dress down to protect the most PRECIOUS thing in the keep.
the sentiment forced a snort through his nostrils. it wasn’t that sinclair didn’t agree with the king’s chosen description of his slightly younger son , but merde he knew how bratty & demanding & SPOILT the prince could be. & yes , it was a fact that he’d come to enjoy the little mind & word games liudolf liked to play with him through batted blonde lashes --- it was nothing short of a task to force himself to ignore the looks & the comments & the ‘ accidental ’ touches that had grown more frequent over the last few months. . .
the silence that had settled through the keep was broken & he was pulled from his thoughts , aquamarines widening at what he THOUGHT the sound to be --- head tilted towards the door at his back , trained ears picking up on the sound of muffled movement from the prince’s room behind him. the light & breathless little sound came again , just a pitch higher than the first he’d heard.
the muscle above his jaw ticked , teeth chomping down on the inside of his cheeks in an effort to keep himself facing forward. he was here to guard & keep watch ; not to turn around & feast his eyes on what was obviously happening behind him. . .
though , when the sound happens a THIRD time , & he was turning to slip through the door & closing it behind him with a creak! before he could stop himself. it was , his sworn duty after all , to ensure that the prince was okay. he crossed the expansive room with silent steps , to the far , dark corner liudolf’s bed occupied.
he SHOULDN’T be doing this --- & yet his hand reached out to part a thick curtain that hung from a frame on the ceiling , his throat clearing as he timed his lie perfectly with his movements , ‘ sweet prince ? are you alright ? i thought i heard. . . ’














