I was never allowed to be damsel in distress.
Not allowed to be swallowed by terror and misery.

If I wanted something done, if I wanted to break out of the dungeon, if I wanted to fight for my life,

I had to do it myself.

For a decade, I swung wildly, beheading friend and foe both, screaming through the noise in my head and the blood in my mouth.

And then he came. And then he saw. The bodies, the mess, the blood and tears.

And he put his hand on the scabbard, disarming. He puts arms around me, disarming. He whispers away the demons, disarming.

I was never allowed to be damsel

Until a knight appeared.