Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. What did the Lords get us into? I stand here in the middle of Gravesend, Kent. Center of the mudblood Rebel cause. Nobody recognizes me, because nobody is looking for me. Each soldier cares only for themselves after a long day of fighting for the cause. If we continue to divide ourselves off of the battlefield, we will never succeed.

Each morning, we ride out on thestral back, many carrying reflective shields, each man with a wand at the very least. Everyone calls me the unknown soldier. Insane, for I carry a wand and a proper sword, having been taught how to deflect hexes and curses with the flat edge. Some go so far as to call me suicidal because I ride out in front of every charge like a proper leader. My swordsmanship lessons with Eric taught me well.

Yet not even he knows I am here. He is sure that he was training me in case the filthy rebels decided to attack Gaelen Castle. But I am here with him. And he does not know it. I see him every day, bravely leading his man into battle, and every night, returning with one less. Although he commands the top regiment, the losses are still great.

He is attached to his men, and when they lose a brother, the whole company mourns. Each day, I see a tear drop for the lost soldier, and each day, I wish that I could catch that tear and comfort the man I love.

Eric looks upon me as he would any other man, with respect and honor, but not with love. My heart breaks when I see him remove the locket that I gave him and kiss it tenderly, knowing that he wishes I was there with him.

I am sure that if he looked beyond the cropped hair and men's jerkin that he would recognize my chocolate brown eyes and impeccable techniques. But he looks upon me no more as a lover. I am a fellow warrior. Nothing more.

My mind yearns for his voice. My body aches for his touch. My soul longs for his presence.

Life grows more difficult every day.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Dinner is ready," a man from my battalion said, stepping away to sit around the warm fire that raged in this cold winter wasteland of death and despair. My eyes grew unfocused as the falling snow settled into flurries and the red streaks in the distance were covered by fresh snowfall. My men. My strong, brave men. Killed by the rebels and buried by the snow. Such a lowly burial for such honorable men. They deserve to be buried in honorable ground. Not here in this rebel environment. But this is the best we can give them. We have at least brought the bodies back to our camp to attempt to preserve them but there are so many casualties that it's impossible to keep up. My once slender arms have become muscular and toned from the consistent raising and lowering of my sword and wand. My reflexes are quick and any light I see aimed at me or any man near me is often deflected by the quick edge of my sword.

None of the men wear armor. We wear a warm cloak around our shoulders to keep warm in this freezing weather and often toss an extra blanket across our stallions back in an effort to keep them warm as well. I am thankful that Lord Crouch bred thestrals for so many years because his careful training of them have allowed us to have the advantage in many cases because we can fly above the crowds like snipers, picking off individual threats.

Of the seven top divisions, only three are privileged enough to have thestrals to ride on. Eric's careful training was enough to put me in one of these battalions. I was now living the life of a warrior. A lone soldier, not allowed to make any friends, for fear that I would become attached and then lose them. I glance over my shoulder to see my comrades munching upon their stew and bread in a most melancholy manner. Even their mealtimes have become depressed. I often choose to sit out these meals and eat on my own after the men have gone to bed.

The foul stench of disease forever hovers in our encampment. We all share tents and being a woman, I must be quite careful to hide my true identity. I place a silencing spell on myself each night to stop anyone from hearing my girlish screams of terror and my thoughts of Eric that echo through my vocal cords. During these long nights I lay on the icy ground of the field, sheltered by a flimsy piece of cloth, and think of how I got to where I am now.

I sat alone in my room, drinking in the warm sunlight that poured in through the wide window in my privy chamber. It was odd, my chambers. For the first time in many months, they were empty. Completely devoid of people. For once, there were no peasants trying to have me settle petty disputes. No lords trying to catch a bit of attention from me, no suitors coming to steal my hand.

Eric had left for the war three weeks previously, leaving me alone to fend for myself. I had asked him not long after our engagement to give me some basic lessons on how to use a full sword, a dagger, and my wand in battle.

"What use will you have for this knowledge?"

"I want to know how to defend myself if I get attacked here," I lied.

"I'll teach you some basic shield charms those should do the trick."

are dying from. I want to know what they are bringing to battle."

Eric had sighed sorrowfully at my request, obviously not wanting to allow me access to these deadly hexes. But I knew that if I were to do what I had been planning for many months, I would have to do this.

As Eric left, I pressed a small locket on a chain into the palm of his hand. "Take this," I whispered into his ear. "Inside is our initials engraved together. It's a symbol of our everlasting union. Although the actual wedding has not occurred, our betrothal is as complete as it can be and we simply need the High Lord to preside over the wedding. It will be done when you return. I promise. You will return.

"Kiss it when you miss me. It will remind you of me, and I will wear an identical necklace, for when the soft pressure of your lips touch the cold metal, I will feel the warmth on my skin. And when I press my lips to mine, you shall feel the same," I said, lifting my necklace from around my neck and kissing it softly, to demonstrate the feeling that he would receive.

With tears in his eyes, Eric caught me in his arms and held me tightly, safely, reminding me of the love that he felt in his heart, and the duty that he must do for our people. I know it was selfish of me to want to keep him at Gaelen with me but he is our best soldier and I know he is desperately needed on the battlefield. Every morning before dawn and every night after dusk, I feel the soft pressure of his lips on my heart and kiss the locket back, knowing that the false kisses will only sustain us for so long.

Stepping over to my door, I tugged the handle shut and called for Maggie. A soft pop later and she was standing beside me, her fingers unlacing every tight ribbon holding me within my gowns.

"Maggie, know this. I will never let any hurt come to you. If I do not return within four months, you are a freed house elf. You are to tell no one where I am going. Tell no one what Eric and I have been doing, locked in my privy chamber these past months. Let them think that we were rejoicing as a future married couple. But you know the truth Maggie. Let nobody else know."

Her tiny body was shaking with fear as she agreed to my commands. "B-b-but Your Majesty, where are you going?"

"I'm going to war Maggie. I'm going to fight alongside my men. I'm going to fight for what is right."

"It's so dangerous! Your Highness, you shouldn't go!"

"Please Maggie, don't turn into one of those overstuffed, pompous, heavily creamed Lords that think their position is greater than it is. Not even the Lords are to know, least of all Lord Donnan. I don't want him worrying about me. If he writes, please, write him as though you are me. I have watched you observe my penmanship and copy it flawlessly. You know how I think and you know what is right. Just act in my stead. Nobody has to know. Order food to my room if you please to keep the charade going. But ensure that nobody knows where I am," I said, Maggie's head bobbing furiously as she nodded to my requests.

"Please find me a men's jerkin, shirt and a proper pair of breeches. I must dress to fit in with my men."

"What regiment are you going to be in Miss Elizabeth? I must get you your shield"

"I'm not going to use a shield, Maggie."

"It's far to dangerous for you not to! Please, Your Highness. Please don't leave us without a form of government at all."

"Maggie, I'll be fine. Now, go fetch that clothing for me. I'll need to blend in. And tell no one of my plan," I emphasized.

The small house elf left with another pop and as soon as I was sure that she had gone, I reached into my vanity drawer, pulling out a small dagger, along with a piece of leather cording. I tied my hair back with the thin piece of leather and closed my eyes as I drew the knife across the top of the cord, severing my long hair from my head and shaking my new cropped hair freely. A few touch ups with my wand and my hair looked like that of any other man's. My eyes lingered slowly on the ponytail of long tresses that lay on the vanity and I locked the hair away in a drawer, knowing that I would never need them again. Maggie came into the room as I cast a final charm on the living area, sealing and preserving it until I came home.

And here I lie. I came here to show off my training and after the men had put me through my paces, they placed me where they felt was appropriate.

Tomorrow is the day of reckoning though. Tomorrow is the biggest battle of them all. Tomorrow decides whether we will win or lose this war.