There were many rumors about this man in the kingdom, always behind his back, never to his face. The mere sight of this man was frightening even without his shining armor. What was to say of the enemies over whom he raised his sword to bring their doom? He raised it above his head impassively, without hesitation, with calculated coldness. Carried his sword as his pride and burden on his shoulders. In battle, he looked like a beast hungry for blood. He led his knights forward, to possible death, but always with victory. He was quietly known as the King of War. And his name was König.

"Do you want me to hug you?", came your gentle voice as you sat in your chair spreading your arms for a hug.

Oooh, you were his weakness. A weakness no one was supposed to know about. A knight and a witch, a match made in heaven itself. Or hell. You were not only the one who nursed his physical wounds after bloody battles. You healed him mentally, without even using any spells. Just by your mere presence. For you, he was ready to wring the necks of anyone who called you a witch. Anyone who would try to send you to the Inquisition.

König’s knees bowed to the floor in front of you, the metal and chainmail that protected his body hitting the wood floor with a clinking sound. "Please...", König replied in a quiet whisper, needing that embrace like oxygen. The man's head buried itself in your lap.