Lady Lira waited anxiously at the window of her room. It had been months - months - since he had left and now that the troops were beginning to return home, she hoped and prayed that he would be among them. She had no letters from him, no word of his deeds from his superiors, no reassurance from his comrades that he was alright - and so the only thing she could do was to wait at her window, gazing out at the vast expanse of the kingdom below her and hoping that she would see him come, riding on his horse. All she was told was that he was sent on his own mission a few weeks ago and no one had heard from him since.
She had good reason for being worried. For as long as anyone could remember (and her people prided themselves on their long memories), they had been at war with the dragons. The draglem, the greatest and most fierce of the dragons, had begun the war, desiring the rulership of the land for himself. There used to be a truce, in which the kingdom would sacrifice maidens to appease the beasts; but that, too, eventually failed. Terrible, massive creatures that they were, the dragons had terrorized the countryside for years, pillaging and burning as they went. And the kingdom, in return, attacked the dragons with army upon army of men, armed to the teeth with glittering battle swords, sharp as a dragon's tooth and washed with spells so that they would pierce a dragon's tough hide. Though both sides disagreed on who started the war, all they knew was that they had to fight to keep their honor. And if there was one thing that humans and dragons could agree on, it was that honor was no light matter.
As a noble, she was required to care about the war efforts, especially because she was such a high ranking noble ("the family's the second in line to the throne itself!" her mother would proclaim proudly). But instead of defending her honor through battle, as the men did, she was expected to uphold her family's honor in a different way entirely. A young woman her age was, of course, expected to marry and to be a good wife and despite her vehement protests, Lira was expected to do the same. Lira sighed and turned away from the window, knowing that continuing to watch the trickling line of soldiers returning would only result in dashing her hopes.
Lira was, by any standards, beautiful. She was tall, her body lithe. Because she was so lean, her breasts were small, but the way her hips swayed when she walked made anyone's complaints about lack of voluptuousness vanish. Like her mother, who was said to be a descendent of kings, she had long, silky black hair that spilled over her shoulders in glossy ripples, and pale, moonlit skin that was smoother than butter and always had the scent of mint leaves on it. And like her father, a nobleman of great fame and respect, her eyes were a blazing green, quick to flash in anger, but equally quick to sparkle when she laughed. Lira was known throughout the kingdom for her beauty, her skill with a blade, and for her seemingly cold temperament.
It wasn't that she was a cruel person. On the contrary, she wasn't really cold at all, and she was actually very kind-hearted, and possessed wisdom greater than many of the councilors. But she was deeply misunderstood. The kingdom's council could never understand why when the mentioned marriage, her eyes clouded to a far away look and she suddenly seemed sad. They couldn't fathom why when they spoke of her successes, she only nodded, seemingly disinterested. She was never exactly "cold," but rather, disinterested, but the council never could comprehend such a thing, and so labeled her as such. But Lira had her reasons.
Born into a noble house, she had been, as all nobles were, taken to a soothsayer after she was born and was given her fortune. Her destiny, it seemed, was that she would one day marry a powerful and noble king, and as a queen, would end the centuries long war. Upon hearing her fortune, her parents immediately began their planning: searching for noble suitors, seeking marriage proposals, and even preliminary planning wedding planning. They could hardly contain their excitement. Their daughter, though at the time who was only an infant was the one destined to end the war!
The war had been hard on the kingdom. The royal line was strong, but not as strong as it was in the days of old. The people needed something to give them hope, something to boost morale. And Lira was the answer to the problem. According to the prophecy, in order to end the war, all she had to do was get married to a man with at least a drop of royal blood (which included a rather huge number of noblemen). "What luck!" the other noble girls would tell her enviously, sighing as they gazed at the long lines of potential suitors.
But Lira was not like the other noble girls. She never desired to be caged in a palace, forced to marry a man she did not love. No, that was not like Lira at all. She wanted, more than anything, freedom. Behind her parents' backs, she began to trade as a shieldmaiden, hoping to one day defend her own honor in battle. She was not some little girl, dependent on her parents for the smallest thing. She was a grown woman and was determined to make her own choices; not be married off like some dog.
She had met Rajar after a day of perusing suitors. Stressed, disheartened, and completely exasperated, she had fled from her parents' quarters in the palace to the Arena, desiring to vent her frustration through sword practice. But when she got to the usually empty training hall, she was surprised to find that it was occupied. There was a man in the middle of the cavernous hall, his body poised, holding a gleaming blade aloft in a defensive position. Lira watched in wonder as he began to practice a sequence of fighting stances, moving with practiced ease between each set, his body's movements fluid and sure, his face relaxed, but his eyes bright in concentration. And he performed them perfectly, without a single flaw, and with great skill.
During one of the sets, the man's body twisted itself towards her, and she made no attempt to hide herself. He had froze, his body suddenly rigid in surprise, then he relaxed. He smiled gently and asked if she was lost. Lira, though her nostrils flared at his kindly tone, corrected him and told him she was shieldmaiden and had come to practice. The man covered his shock quickly, immediately apologizing for taking up the hall, and even offering to leave if she cared to use it alone. But Lira had already been biting back a smile and, in the wake of her line of failed suitors, suddenly felt relief that there was at least one man she could, at the time, actually stand.
Lira was not one for "love at first sight," but she soon grew rather fond of Rajar. Rajar was, unlike the other men she was forced to visit, not of noble blood in the least. His family was of the merchant class, and so he was well-educated, but times of war called for fighters, not scholars, and so he enlisted. And he was extraordinarily talented.
So after hours and hours of endless small talk and disgustingly mundane brunches, Lira was able to escape to the Arena to practice her swordsmanship with Rajar. And as they practiced, he would tell her of his family, like outside the palace for a commoner, and about the war effort, while she would tell him about her travels, what she heard from the "higher ups," and about her endless stream of suitors, which seemed to amuse him. And after months of the same pattern and after finding solace in only one individual who seemed to be the only one who understood her, she began to come to realization that she was in love with Rajar.
Her parents did everything they could. They set her up with suitors, only to have her turn them away; they sent her away to distant lands to fall in love, but she only returned with tales of adventure and none of love; they forbade her from her shieldmaiden duties, which only resulted in resentment and even more sneaking out to practice; and they finally had to choice but to lock her in the palace until she agreed to submit to their terms. Lira had been caged for almost a year and even though the servants knew better than to let her practice with a sword and the guards knew that they had to keep an extra well trained eye on her, Lira still didn't submit. She told her parents, in front of the entire hall, that she would never marry a man whom she didn't love and that no amount of caging would break her.
No one could understand why she didn't marry the prince. It was, after all, her destiny. But Lira didn't care. She knew that her heart wanted Rajar.
But that had all been years ago. Years of practice and hardship, years of courtship, then finally, a year of bliss. Rajar had loved her for a long time, but never acted on it because the last thing that Lira needed was another suitor, but when Lira suddenly became receptive to his affections, he was more than happy. They managed to keep it a secret for a year before they were discovered.
Her parents had already forced the military to ban her from going on missions as a warrior, they already took away her sword, her first love and passion, and now they took away her freedom. What else could they possibly take?
It turned out, her parents could take Rajar.
Being from an incredibly wealthy and powerful noble family, Lira's family was second only to the king, and so they had a great deal of power over such matters. Within a week, Rajar had been sent on a "speciality mission," which was never good news, and Lira had been confined within the palace walls.
So now the once powerful Lady Lira, famed equally for her beauty and her blade, was now trapped in the palace, like a helpless princess in a tower, waiting for her love to return.
***
She didn't have much longer to wait. After months of anxiety, Lira finally heard the sound she had longed for: "Lira," said the soft voice she knew so well.
Immediately, she whirled around from her place beside the window, her eyes wide in surprise and relief. And there stood Rajar, tall and every bit the warrior that she was, her equal in every way. His skin had been bronzed by the sun after his long journey, and his dark hair was perhaps longer than how he would usually wear it, but his brown eyes shone in happiness when he saw her face and in that moment, all of her fears and worry melted away.
"Rajar!" she whispered in disbelief, running to him and throwing herself into his arms. "You're back!"
