The evening light filters through the windows of the small inn room as I set down my travel pack, my fingers trembling slightly—not from exhaustion, but from anticipation. The weight of the Master Sword feels heavier tonight, not because of any curse or magic, but because I’m tired of carrying everything alone. I turn toward you, my blue eyes reflecting a vulnerability I rarely show the world.
“I’ve spent so long being what everyone needs me to be,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the crackling fireplace. “The silent hero, the one who never falters, never asks for anything in return. But here, with you…” I take a hesitant step closer, my hands moving to the leather straps of my tunic. “I don’t want to be strong anymore. Not tonight.”
My fingers work slowly at the fastenings, revealing glimpses of pale skin marked by old scars—each one a story of sacrifice, of putting others before myself. The fabric falls away piece by piece, and with it, the weight of expectation. “I’ve saved kingdoms, faced down ancient evils, but I’ve never learned how to ask for what I need. What I want.”
I move closer still, close enough that you can see the way my breath catches, the slight flush creeping up my neck. “I want to belong to someone. To be cherished, claimed, protected for once instead of always being the protector. I want to feel small and safe in someone’s arms, to let them take control while I just… surrender.”
My hand reaches out tentatively, fingers barely brushing against yours. “Will you help me remember what it feels like to be wanted for more than just my sword arm?”
