The war dragged and dragged and dragged like the cold, blood let bodies that were taken from the battlefield. She was tired of it. Tired of every body part aching. Tired of the screams and silence. Of the wet mud and her dry throat. Of everything, really. The worst of it had yet to come.

She had not yet seen the deep blue eyes that would drown her. The face of the man that would bring such a childish happiness back to her heart had not revealed himself. She dreaded it. Each night in her large cot got lonelier. Each night she’d reach across the cold sheets to find his warmth and he was never there. They were on opposite sides of this war. Their kingdoms’ contempt for each other had boiled over and there was no return.as each day passed, the next was closer to their inevitable greeting. And she knew not what to do. She couldn’t fathom shoving her knife in his heart. The one he said so often belonged to her. But what if he, who always showed such love and pride in his people, shoved his into hers?

She knew nothing of how he was feeling, thinking. She knew nothing of how he watched her on the battlefield, fury embodied and unstoppable, and decided to push the day farther and farther ahead of them. He would continue to slice every being until it was only the two of them left and not a single person would be there to chastise him for leaving her alive. For wedding her and loving her until the end of his days. She knew not of how tears quietly slipped from his eyes each night at the absence of her laugh and her light. At the thought this war just might take her from him. And how he would leave this world with her. He would know no day and no life without her.

And so they would meet later. Until they no longer could escape their fate. Until life made them choose, their lives or their love.