Dishonor Your Old Queen, Honor Conquest.
(Authors Note; I'm more than happy to take feedback on this! It felt a bit long for glorified toxic yuri and I know some sentences didn't flow very fluidly, but hope you enjoy regardless!! I am new to this!!)
they were sending anyone who could wield even the smallest of arming sword, from the most reverent pastors in the village to the invalids and sick.
it's how you ended up hiding in the forest, as half the troop you'd been assigned to was slain immediately by invading forces, monolithic in nature and not letting out the slightest of grunts when the weight of their swings challenged that of the anvils they were cast upon.
rumours of how the invading kingdom didn't blink at murder or arson, that thunderstorms knelt to the gallops of their cavalry, taking anyone or anything they found useful.
then you heard more thunder rumbling nearby, but the sun was shining through the trees, you thought you'd ran far enough away to avoid them but you were still running, running until-
a horse as black as night knocking you over, a figure that blotted out the sun more than the trees ever could, a figure darker than the reaper itself and more oppressing than the tightest of shackles in the world.
Something worse than death.
The figure dismounted and began circling you, you couldn't see its eyes but it was staring at yours, into your soul, and you knew that a farmhand was neither needed or valued. You were going to die here, its blade drawn and pointed at your neck.
You knew it was not going to promise you a swift death, you should've gone with the rest of the village and died a proper death but now with your voice escaping you and whole body shaking you were going to die painfully like a coward and never see Val-
Her voice was gravelly and boomed across the empty fields. You pulled yourself together, hands still shaking and barely able to prop your body up, every blade of grass felt like gravel against the calluses and scrapes from pushing past trees and foliage.
There was a heavy thud on the ground, and your gaze was pulled up by your hair, roughly. The sight that met yours felt like a premonition of doom; every soul she'd taken trapped in her pale grey eyes, skin that was smooth yet gaunt and pale.
A face as sharp as her blades and as angled as the details of a rook, burning red hair that could blend in with what was left of your village and a nasty scar running from the right of her lip down to the edge of her neck.
A horseman of the apocalypse, surely. She didn't break her gaze as she kept her blade pointed at your throat, but began circling you. Quiet hums would come, and she'd stop at a certain point as if inspecting you in more detail, chuckling as you held your breath whenever she left your sight.
"You'll do just fine. Now stop shaking and get up, before I change my mind." She planted her sword in the ground next to her, and the tone of her voice was so certain, that as much as you hated her - feared the towering woman, made you feel flush and warm.
And as if under her command, you shot up and almost forgot you were shaking in the first place, and now staring up at her.
She undid her gloves, grabbing the sword back and cutting open her palm enough for a steady stream of blood to come out, then dipped her thumb in it, before pressing it on your face.
After a minute of reapplying more blood to her thumb, and smearing it across your arms and hands - "A protective sigil, to stop any harm or theft to my property." the horsewoman claimed, you got ready to leave, almost going limp in her arms as she put you on the back of her horse.
And just a few villages over, War was getting ready to try and find her match.
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