Ser Gavin Eryndor
The North was unforgiving, its icy winds cutting through even the thickest furs. Gavin rode through the snow-covered landscape, his breath visible in the frosty air. He had insisted on patrolling the territory himself, despite the protests of his advisors. “The people need to see their lord,” he had said, his voice firm but kind. “They need to know I’m here for them.”
As his horse trudged through the deep snow, Gavin’s sharp eyes caught sight of something unusual—a figure half-buried in the snow, barely moving. He urged his horse forward, his heart pounding. Dismounting quickly, he knelt beside the person, brushing away the snow to reveal your pale, frozen face. Without hesitation, Gavin removed his heavy cloak and wrapped it around your unconscious body. “Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the cold. “You’re safe now.”
He lifted your body onto his horse and mounted behind you, holding you securely as he rode back to his manor. The journey felt longer than it was, the weight of your life pressing heavily on Gavin’s mind. 'I couldn’t leave them,' he thought. 'No one deserves to die alone in the snow.'
The manor was a welcome sight, its warm lights glowing against the twilight. Servants rushed forward as Gavin dismounted, their eyes widening at the sight of the unconscious figure in his arms. “Prepare a room,” Gavin ordered, his voice calm but commanding. “And send for the healer.”
The captain of the guard, a grizzled veteran named Torvin, stepped forward, his expression stern. “My lord,” he said, his tone laced with disapproval, “do you think it wise to bring a stranger into your home? We know nothing of this person—they could be a spy, or worse.”
Gavin met Torvin’s gaze, his brown eyes steady. “I couldn’t leave them to die, Captain. Whatever their story, they deserve a chance to tell it.”
Torvin’s jaw tightened, but he nodded reluctantly. “As you wish, my lord. But I’ll post guards outside their room, just in case.”
Gavin hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. But treat them with respect. They’ve suffered enough.”
He made sure that you were settled into a warm room, a fire crackling in the hearth. As the servants bustled about, bringing blankets and hot broth, the healer arrived and examined you. Gavin stood in the doorway, watching silently. His heart ached at the sight of someone so vulnerable, so alone. 'Who are you?' he wondered. 'And what brought you here?'
“My lord,” a servant said softly, pulling him from his thoughts. “The healer says they’ll live, but they need rest.”
Gavin nodded. “Thank you. Let me know when they wake.”
Hours later, after ensuring the manor was secure and the people were cared for, Gavin returned to the guest room. The fire had burned low, casting a warm glow over the room. He stood by the bed, looking down at your still unconscious form. “You’re safe here,” he said quietly, though he wasn’t sure if you could hear him. “When you wake, we’ll find out who you are and how we can help you.”
He lingered for a moment, his mind racing with questions. Was this person truly in need, or were they a threat? Gavin’s idealism warred with his sense of duty, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t turn his back on someone in need. Not now, not ever.
As his horse trudged through the deep snow, Gavin’s sharp eyes caught sight of something unusual—a figure half-buried in the snow, barely moving. He urged his horse forward, his heart pounding. Dismounting quickly, he knelt beside the person, brushing away the snow to reveal your pale, frozen face. Without hesitation, Gavin removed his heavy cloak and wrapped it around your unconscious body. “Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the cold. “You’re safe now.”
He lifted your body onto his horse and mounted behind you, holding you securely as he rode back to his manor. The journey felt longer than it was, the weight of your life pressing heavily on Gavin’s mind. 'I couldn’t leave them,' he thought. 'No one deserves to die alone in the snow.'
The manor was a welcome sight, its warm lights glowing against the twilight. Servants rushed forward as Gavin dismounted, their eyes widening at the sight of the unconscious figure in his arms. “Prepare a room,” Gavin ordered, his voice calm but commanding. “And send for the healer.”
The captain of the guard, a grizzled veteran named Torvin, stepped forward, his expression stern. “My lord,” he said, his tone laced with disapproval, “do you think it wise to bring a stranger into your home? We know nothing of this person—they could be a spy, or worse.”
Gavin met Torvin’s gaze, his brown eyes steady. “I couldn’t leave them to die, Captain. Whatever their story, they deserve a chance to tell it.”
Torvin’s jaw tightened, but he nodded reluctantly. “As you wish, my lord. But I’ll post guards outside their room, just in case.”
Gavin hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. But treat them with respect. They’ve suffered enough.”
He made sure that you were settled into a warm room, a fire crackling in the hearth. As the servants bustled about, bringing blankets and hot broth, the healer arrived and examined you. Gavin stood in the doorway, watching silently. His heart ached at the sight of someone so vulnerable, so alone. 'Who are you?' he wondered. 'And what brought you here?'
“My lord,” a servant said softly, pulling him from his thoughts. “The healer says they’ll live, but they need rest.”
Gavin nodded. “Thank you. Let me know when they wake.”
Hours later, after ensuring the manor was secure and the people were cared for, Gavin returned to the guest room. The fire had burned low, casting a warm glow over the room. He stood by the bed, looking down at your still unconscious form. “You’re safe here,” he said quietly, though he wasn’t sure if you could hear him. “When you wake, we’ll find out who you are and how we can help you.”
He lingered for a moment, his mind racing with questions. Was this person truly in need, or were they a threat? Gavin’s idealism warred with his sense of duty, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t turn his back on someone in need. Not now, not ever.
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