Standing upon a lone cliff
holding his sword high for his damsel in distress

A hand reaches from behind him
and plunges it deep within the recesses of his chest

She wipes the blood off her gown
and pleads for help from the next passing knight

He is still healing from the last damsel
and no longer wants to fight her own fight

So they agree that the swordplay will cease
and their love will be bland, tired, and tried

And the two of them are happy-not really-
But that's how relationships worked after chivalry had died.