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       #Post#: 1086--------------------------------------------------
       The Princess and Her Knight
       By: Kirei Ryuusei Date: June 20, 2011, 1:44 am
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       I orginally made this on another forum. It was for two OC I
       made. I didn't use names for the fanfic but just know that it's
       from a guy's POV.
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       She was always thought as the heroine. The one to rescue those
       in need. The one to slay the monster in a fell swoop. The one
       that was invincible.
       "I don't think that I'm a princess or heroine. I am just me."
       she told me when I asked which she believed she was.
       I always observed as she went about her business. She looked
       gritty, hands soiled by vibrant crimson blood. Red irises made
       stiff from viewing death's handiwork. And personality that
       amazed and shocked others. Friendly yet elusive. Upfront yet
       secretive. I never could piece her persona together. And
       yet....at the same time knew all about her mask and true self.
       She has a wonderful smile. Pearly whites gleam as bright as the
       only light I could stand. People always think she's permenantly
       jovial. Naive. Happy. However if you could look, maybe even
       squint you could see the cracks of the fascade. It's so rare
       that you see a true smile from her.
       If you took a glance at her you'd think she was a knight. Garbed
       in clothes like a man's, in fact it is a man's clothes. The
       layers and baggy clothes shrouds her shape. If you had a chance
       to see that heroine dressed as a lady you'd know her true
       nature. A princess. Skin that was like a porclein doll's.
       Flowing onyx hair that could rival silk. Softened expression,
       like insecurity, or an earnest pondering. In that time she'd
       show every sign of being a delicate glass. This state of her,
       I've only viewed once.
       On a normal basis she'd pretend to be a heroine and stare down
       an enemy without flinching. A smirk of determination maybe even
       cockiness graces her lips as she attacks. Nothing made her
       scared. Nothing made her cower. That's, at least,created the
       impression she made. There was a weakness to her. Soemthing that
       she dreaded and feared. It made her want to dream without end
       that it was never existent. Crystal tears could drop from her
       eyes.
       "I hate to cry. It makes me seem like I'm w--I'm a wimp" She
       said as she wiped away the moisture.
       She never had to say it. Not even imply it. She thought herself
       weak if she cried. That others would underestimate her. That
       she'd be considered a 'damsel'. She hated it. Weakness. Hated
       showing her true self wsn't strong. Even if no one is truly
       strong inside. The only thing that she despised more than the
       droplets of sadness was the reactions of others. Sympathy. In
       her mind sympathy translated as pity. That someone felt sorry
       for her made her despise it. Despising simple help.
       But I shouldn't be criticizing her since I'm supposed to be a
       knight. The one to ride along on a horse with gleaming armor,
       armed with only bravery and the heart to face down the monster.
       The person to save the princess from anything that ails her.
       However, I cannot do that.
       Even if I try to reach the trapped princess, I'm always one,
       just one, step too late. The monster slithers away, satisfied,
       leaving the effect of his torture. Permenant scars appear on her
       mind, body, and soul. These marks terrifying her shaking form,
       easily striking fear.
       I, as an invaluable knight, am only able comfort and support
       this vunerable, hidden damsel. All I could do is shield the
       backlash with my embrace. Only offer my words to ease the
       anxiety within this lady. Give enough assurance that she could
       rest her eyes with no tension, no intimidation.
       This is all I can do as heroine princess' worthless knight......
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