Another Writing Prompt!
Rain was pelting her face, obscuring her view. She wiped the water from her eyes, smoothing wet strands of hair away. The end of her braid was heavy over her shoulder, the wind blowing the feathers tucked into it. She twirled her swords easily, cutting into an approaching opponent. With a sickening slosh of blood, he fell dead, leaving the path before her clear.
She looked up slowly, straightening as a man stood before her. She watched as he used an axe to cleave into one of her men, dislodging the blade with an easy swing.
“Here we are at last, Princess,” he said mockingly as he approached her.
She tightened the grip on her scimitars, feeling the battle around them beginning to ease. This had gone of for hours. They both were in prime condition, but she knew he had to be feeling the strain of the frey as much as she was.
“I hope you’re ready to meet your end,” she said challengingly. She knew she was alone now in this fight. Her country and his had been at odds for too long now. There was only one thing left to do; kill him or die trying.
Arrogant as ever, the prince scoffed. He tossed his axe to the ground, drawing his own curved blade. “Let’s see how good of a swordsman you really are.”
She braced, swinging her blades toward his chest as he came at her. It forced him to step away from her. He parried her blows, but his method was brute strength. He lacked any kind of finesse when it came to swords. He held his own though, steel on steel as he caught her off guard, catching her weapons against his. He held her in place, watching her jaw clench tightly.
“It’s too bad you couldn’t just accept my proposal,” he said through gritted teeth. Despite his strength, she was keeping him at bay.
She arched a brow at him, drawing a ragged breath. “I would never allow myself to be married to a brute such as you!” She disengaged him then, allowing herself open for a brief moment as she swung her sword back.
Both were surprised by the other’s swiftness, coming face-to-face suddenly. The princess looked down, seeing his blood running across her hands. This should have been a victorious moment, had her blood not begun to mingle with his. She looked up into his face, seeing the pain furrowing his brow.
“A fitting end, it seems,” he managed. He lifted a bloodied hand to press against her face. “You should have accepted my proposal.”
The princess shoved his hand away, staggering back from him. She gripped the handle that was protruding from her gut. She collapsed to the ground, watching as he did the same.
“I would rather die.”