⋆ · 𖤓 · ⋆ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 ··· a collection of last confessions, war-eve devotion, and borrowed time roleplay sentence starters. genre: romance, hurt and comfort, angst, war.
I will not bid you farewell. I refuse it, so do not ask such a thing of me.
Come here. Only come to me. We need not speak of what awaits us on the morrow.
Should some ill befall me, there is a letter within my tent. You must not read it unless there is cause.
I never feared death before tonight. Then again, I had no reason to return before I had you.
You have honed that sword as though the blade has given you some mortal offense. Put it down and speak to me.
I deceived you. I am afraid, terribly so.
Do not dare speak of loving me tonight merely because you fear the dawn will deny you another chance.
They drink and sing as though some grand feast awaits us. How can they bear it? Why are they not all screaming?
I cannot cease counting the hours that remain.
Lie beside me. I cannot endure this silence alone.
If I do not return, do not suffer them to invent some noble falsehood about my death. Tell it precisely as it was.
There is something I would tell you, but first you must swear not to turn my confession into a farewell.
The fire is nearly spent. Shall I tend it?
I wrote your name upon the inside of my shield. You need not look upon me so.
We ought to sleep. There can be no question of it. Why, then, are neither of us sleeping?
My thoughts keep returning to the orchard at home. Somehow, you are always there, waiting beside the gate.
How many souls in this camp do you suppose shall yet be living when the sun reaches its height tomorrow?
I have never been much inclined toward prayer. For you, however, I would fall upon my knees.
I stole this wine from the commander’s stores. Speak of it to no one. Come and drink with me.
Promise me you will remain behind the lines. I know full well you shall not, but promise me all the same.
My hands will not be still. They have trembled so since the sun went down.
Tell me something in which war has no part. Anything at all. Tell me of your mother’s garden, or of some hound you loved when you were young.
I cannot stop imagining what shall become of me if I survive and you do not.
I have endured six campaigns. This is the first in which someone has awaited my return. I had thought it would lend me courage. It has made the fear far worse.
Do not look toward the ridge. Do not count their fires. Come back within the tent.
If this is to be our final night, I would rather not waste it pretending to be brave.
I left something in the quartermaster’s keeping for you. It is only a precaution—nothing more.
Every soldier in this camp is seeking peace with whatever powers may hear them tonight. I have come to seek mine with you.
The stars appear no different here than they did above our home. It seems almost an insult that they should remain unchanged.
Will you fasten my armor in the morning? I find I cannot trust my life beneath any hands but yours.
I have rehearsed all that I shall say to you afterward, once the battle is won. It has become quite the speech.
They granted us an extra ration tonight. That is how one knows the danger is grave—they fill a man’s belly before sending him forth to die.
I wish I had met you in some gentler place. A market square, perhaps, or upon a harbor road—anywhere that did not have a war fastened to it.
If I fall tomorrow, take my horse. She knows the road home and shall bear you there safely.
You are the only soul in this camp who can make me remember that I am more than flesh fashioned to carry a sword.
I can scarcely believe I am spending what may be my final night alive quarreling with you. What are we quarreling over, even now?
I do not know how this is meant to be endured—the waiting, the knowing, the helplessness of it. How does anyone bear such a night?
I shall find you afterward. When the field grows quiet and the dust has settled, I shall come for you. Remain somewhere I may find you.
Hold still and allow me to look upon you. I would remember every part of this—the firelight, your foolish, beautiful face, all of it.
You keep assuring me that all shall be well. Enough. Do not speak promises you cannot know to be true.
I shall not sleep tonight, and you need not attempt to persuade me. Only remain awake beside me. That is all I ask.
I have made my peace with all that tomorrow may take from me—everything save you.
