This is my frist ever fanfic. Did I do okay?
Beauty Herself
And there she was—Christiana—as radiant as ever. It was one of the reasons I secretly praised William throughout this whole charade. His stumbling attempts at winning the heart of his maiden, his Jocelyn, left Christiana coming to our camp on a frequent basis.
The first time my eyes fell upon her I gazed at her with a slack-jawed admiration. I remember being struck in the chin forcing myself to come out of the coma she'd put me into. Oh! She was such a beauty. How was it that William's eyes could feel as though they were set any higher than the beauty that bade him tidings of her Lady.
Christiana was beauty. She didn't posses beauty. She didn't command it. Nor did it dictate the steps she took. No, she was beauty. They were one and the same.
So how was it that my William, dear friend, frustrating, childish, William had failed to notice? I've made a lifetime of trying to benefit in the wake of his foolishness. God love him and so do I as the very brother he is to me but sometimes I worry he's a fool.
And a fool he may be but he has his love and now I've got beauty herself at my side for every day and every night until the sun itself stops setting.
