Author's Notes:
Today for you all a story of the young swordsmen Lark Zephyerwild as he escorts the hunted Princess Cordellia from danger after her father's kingdom has fallen. Running from perils, the pair have grown close in their travels, and now rest in the brief moment of respite they have in their flight.
All characters within are 18+ years of age.
Thanks to my editors KenjiSato and LoneWolf!
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The Princess' First Sword
The cool breeze saw every muscle in Lark Zephyerwild's body melt into the grassy hill that he lay on. Days of running for their lives made him sore and ache in every way possible. This first respite that he and Princess Cordelia encountered, in their flight from the badlands, was a gift from the gods. The relief of unclasping his sword belt from his waist, before he found himself sprawled over the hill was magnificent, like the release of a weighty burden.
Lark, of course, kept his blade in arms reach, just as he did the hunted princess he escorted across the northern plains. Opening one eye on occasion, he would spot her picking flowers just a stone's throw away from him, humming some royal tune she grew up singing in a high tower.
It was hard to believe looking at her, but this was one of the most loathed people in the Southern Marches. Her princess-like innocence and beauty were spoiled by the reputation of her father, whom so many hated. Her face never betrayed anything evil, more often than not, there was a smile perched upon her soft cheeks. Certainly, her current predicament, and need to escape murderous rivals that hunted her had more to do with how little she could help being born into a royal household doomed to fall.
Whether Cordelia realized it all or not, was a testament to how sheltered she had been. Lark had lost his patience with her from time to time, but after each, her rosy cheeks and teary, swollen eyes racked him with guilt, and he would always give her a pat on the head to reassure her it would be fine.
After all, she was, all of a sudden, alone in this world. No matter how cruel her father may have been, and murderous her family was, she had lost all she knew. It was clear to Lark she had not been exposed to any of it. Her life was one of a blissful unawareness.
It had been six days since they left Eldermoor, the former city of her father. In those six days, Lark had slayed usurpers bent on capturing her, battled assassins trying to kill her, and dispatched brigands keen to rape her. The sweat on his brow was a testament to the exhaustion of keeping up with it. Of all of his quests, this one took the crown of most strenuous. But something about her energy kept him going, a peppiness that saw her humming tunes and picking flowers in the field of her escape from her family's destruction.
Lark got the sense that she had hardly been out of Eldermoor before. Her innocent and sheltered senses were getting some adventure from this trek to the north. Each mountain range, dark forest, and ancient ruin they crossed paths with, came with a flurry of questions from the princess. Unending was her chatter, but the roguish swordsman had started to get used to it.
The steely exterior of an errant swordsman had started to melt away as he grew fond of the princess. Her cheerfulness was intoxicating. Cordelia had pestered him for days with details about himself. Where he was from, where he had been, what he had done. Lark tried to dissuade her, with mention of a low-birth in a shit village leagues away in a forsaken land. Yet, the princess wanted to hear every detail, and even brought questions that left Lark stumped. He hadn't thought of home that much in a long time.
Through their interactions, they both grew close. It was hard to be strangers off the beaten path in a race for their lives, and her personality certainly leaned into it.
It, of course, helped that Princess Cordelia was also very beautiful. Lark tried not to look, but it was becoming harder and harder to not notice.
While she was a woman grown, she was much shorter than the towering Lark. Her petite frame was in danger of being blown away by a stiff breeze, and in some perils, it was easier for Lark to carry her on his shoulders as to usher her through the wilds.
Even though their travels went through some harsh conditions, Cordelia looked strangely put together. Her hair was always well done, her dress that she had worn the night of her escape was only slightly torn, and Lark gave her a spare green coat of his that she wore happily, the fabric enveloping her.
"Don't go too far, Princess," he called to her, one eye open as he lay in the grass.
Cordelia squeaked and looked around, nervous she was out of line, as she took several steps closer to her protector. After a silent moment, she resumed her flower picking and humming, content she was being watched over. Lark closed his eyes and bathed in the tune of her lips, his mind enveloped with her unintentionally.
Before long, she walked to his side, her sweet scent catching his nose before he saw her.
Standing above, she clenched a handful of flowers, their yellow petals contrasting her brown hair flowing in two tails behind her.
"Lark, I picked these for you." She sheepishly held them towards him.
"Oh?" He looked up, but instead of noticing the flowers, he saw her bare, white legs beneath her dress.
It was odd, they had paid a passing caravan for a pair of leathers she wore around her legs for warmth. The typically finely dressed maiden was excited to be in the costume of an adventurer. He wondered why she was not wearing them now.
His hand soon reached up and took the stems in hand. Her hand jetted away and clasped with its counterpart over the large bow that was tied at her chest. Lark suspected she wore it to hide her flat bosom.
"Lark... I haven't... I haven't..." the princess stuttered.
Lark sat up on his elbows, raising an eyebrow at the princess. Rarely did she get flustered, her royal education always found her well-spoken. But right now, in the few days of knowledge about her he had accumulated, he could tell she was nervous for reasons unknown.
In the glint of the afternoon sun, he could hardly make out that her cheeks were red, the small lady struggling for words.
"What's on your mind, Princess?" He spoke softly to her, knowing that helped to get her to loosen up. He had to hide his usual gruff demeanor, having learned that it made her less than likely to speak.
"Eee...." she squeaked again.
Lark couldn't help but see a cute naivety to it. "Princess?"
Cordelia swallowed hard, fussing with the hem of her blue dress as it flowed through the wind. "Lark... I haven't thanked you properly," she said, in a very official-sounding tone. It was her default when she was nervous.
"Thanked me?"
"For... for rescuing me, keeping me safe." She cleared her throat and fiddled with her fingers nervously.
"Oh is that it?" He laid back down.
"What do you mean, is that it?!" Her tone turned more excited.
"I don't know, I don't understand why you are thanking me." He closed his eyes once more, only peeking at her bare legs when he thought he could get away with it.
"Because! I'm... I'm grateful you did!"
"Mmmm..." Lark openly pondered. "Well, it's not like I'm some knightly hero, Princess. It's only for the coin your family in the north is paying." He opened an eye to look up at her. Used to being so cold with those around him, Lark regretted dishing such a response out to the princess.
Instead of being offended or off-put, Lark was taken aback by a warm smile looking down on him, and big blue eyes welcoming him.
"Nuh-uh." Cordelia laughed, and shook her head. "I know that's not true."
"Oh you do, huh?"
"Yes... I know you."
"It's only been six days on the road." Lark looked up at her skeptically. "You shouldn't trust too easily."
"See."
"See what?!" Lark was frustrated he was missing the princess' point.
"You always tell me these things, things I should or shouldn't do to stay safe. No one is paying you to do that."
Lark closed his eyes; sometimes, there was no arguing with her. The princess was as smart as she was cute.
"Plus, the ones hunting me were offering far more coin than my family in the north. So... gotcha."
Lark closed his eyes and smiled, taking a deep breath. "Fine, you're right, you got me. I did it out of the goodness in my heart."
"I know..." she said, matter of factly.
A few silent moments passed as he lay with his eyes closed, the princess' rustling above him hardly made him stir. Soon, he felt a warmth next to him in the grass, close enough to radiate off of his skin.
When he opened his eyes, he would meet her big blue orbs a breath away. But more noticeably she was nude, lying on her side to his left and looking as flustered as he had ever seen.
"Princess?!" He flinched, eyes darting along her body so fast, he hardly could take in any details. But then his senses kicked in, and he politely looked away to the sky.
