AN: So we had to write an essay in my mother language and well, I turned it into a little Swan Queen AU fanfiction, so I decided to share. ;)
So the beginning of the story was given, and the condition was that it should be set in Middle Ages.
Clapping of high heels echoes through the castle, as the person makes their way through the darkened corridor, lit up only by porches, abandoned of life. Someone's knocking on the gate.
She was sitting comfortably on her throne, keeping on her mildly intimidating mask of sensuality and nobleness, while feeling torn with thorns inside. Suddenly, the massive door out of black wood open, and into the room walks her closest servant, followed by a young woman with a slim figure, a mane of blond hair and flatteringly fitting armor. Maybe this servant could sense the electrifying tension when gazes of the two women met. Maybe even he has heard the stories about their past. Maybe that was the reason he's nodding and leaving them immediately.
In that moment, the queen's mask is falling and her breath and pulse picks up on intensity, she gives up attempts of sham. They wouldn't work out anyway. Not in front of Her.
"Your Majesty," the knight falls to her knee and bows her head, trying to suppress the painful feeling clawing at her heart every time she looks into the chocolate eyes of the raven haired woman, the feeling of loss of the most precious thing she's ever had. "I apologize for disturbing you in such early hours, but I have heard a message that couldn't wait. He's going to strike again. Tonight. And he's more determined than ever."
The fear in the queen's eyes is evident immediately. Or maybe just the Knight has learned to see through all of those masks a long time ago.
"Allow me to attend tonight's ball. Allow me to protect you, like before."
The queen nods and desperately finds eyes of the woman standing in front of her. And there's more reflecting in their gazes than just fear. Dedication. And the deepest desires of heart.
The night couldn't have come sooner. All around there was elated mood, laughter and dance, without anybody knowing. Only the Queen, who nearly stops breathing out of fear, keeps looking around and all her masks are crumbling under the weight of paranoid desperation.
The first person, who comes to ask the Queen to dance with a respectful bow, is a young handsome man from neighboring kingdom. And not even in the times of biggest crises can the Queen violate decorum. With fear in her eyes she looks at the Knight beside her, who nods and with determination throws herself into arms of the first lad standing at the dance floor.
"Your balls belong to the best ones, to which I had the honor to be invited to," the young man praises, trying to distract the Queen from her constant volatile glances towards the Knight.
"Thank you," the answer sounded, accompanied by a fake smile. Her heart is beating faster and faster, the closer they get to the dark corner leading to abandoned corridor. She's trying to slip out of his grasp, but he's holding her tight. Too tight. She opens her mouth to call out for help, but he immediately pressed his lips over hers, silencing her shout. His right hand slips under the hem of his shirt. A stray beam of light is reflected in the dagger, as the blade flashes through the air. Though suddenly there's a thud and a fall to the stone floor.
The Queen opens her eyes and massages the dull pain in the back of her head. She focuses her eyes again and notices blood. Not her own. The sight of blonde waves spread next to her scares her to the death, she feels as if her heart was giving up on her. She quickly turns the nearly lifeless body and drags the Knight's head into her lap.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," the sobs are tearing through her throat without any chance to stop them.
"I would die a thousand times," the cold lips were whispering, so quietly that the Queen had to lean closer. "just if-"
"Please, don't leave me… Not again… I love you."