(Warning: battle scenes and descriptions of gore.)

"I won't deny that death is at our doorstep," Timothée shouted to the hundreds of men lined up around him. They were on a field, just across from Islegold. The Kingsmen saw them approaching and got into defensive positions.

"I won't deny the fact that many of you will die. You have a right to know that. You also have a right to freedom! Freedom that your so-called King doesn't give!" The men watching Timothée hooted in agreement. The sounds waving across the open field.

"This is our land! The cowards that fight for the King won't let you be free! They will deny you that! Will you sit and let this happen? Let them raid your villages, rape your women and kill your children! Will you sit there and watch them burn everything you once stood for?" His army started to get restless. They craved to fight for their rights and loved ones.

"Fight with me! We stand for our land and our once great country. We will fight back and we will win! Fuck the cowards who destroy our country. Most importantly, fuck the King!" Timothée ended his speech. The army of men started to bang their swords against shields. Everyone was in an uproar. The Royal guard that was at the other end shivered in fear at the sound. They could see that the revolutionists were ready to fight. Timothée moved down the line, getting ready to start the battle.

"Fuck the King!" All of them shouted back. Timothée felt a burst of courage. He was ready to fight.

"All men, follow me!" Timothée unsheathed his sword and started to charge, the hundreds of men following behind. And thus, the battle began.

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Blood.

Blood, mud, and screams of pain moved through the field like paint on a canvas. The artist goes by death and there was no stopping its creations. Timothée drove from man to man, hacking and slashing his way towards Islegold. His armour was dented, his energy even more so. A large man, about twice his size, charged towards him, letting out a war cry. Timothée raised his sword in time to block the initial blow.

His muscles ached and his wounds burned. The mud was everywhere. There was so much death it was hard to see. He pushed the man's sword away from him. Using his opponent's temporary stun, he slashed at the side of his throat. There was a small gap between the man's chest plate and helmet. Timothée saw the blood spray out onto the ground. The large man used one hand to hold his neck.

The giant man seemed to fuel more with anger. He charged at Timothée and they fought back and forth. The clashing of their swords and others around them make high pitch noises, a stark contrast to the deep and bellowing shouts of pain. Timothée lost track of himself for a split second. That's all it took. A small moment of hesitation and he was kicked to the ground. The man loomed over him, raising his large broadsword over his shoulders. Just as he was going to kill Timothée, a sword pierced through his stomach. The blood fell on Timothée. The larger man tumbled down and Timothée rolled away just in time.

"Need help, brother?" A hand positioned itself above him. Timothée squinted in the sunlight and saw Adrian standing above him. Timothée accepted his hand and got up. The two looked at the battle raging around them. All current enemies were engaged in battle. One of Timothée's soldiers ran towards him.

"I saw some of the King's men heading towards camp!" Those words sent a wave of more anxiety through Timothée. They're going after Dahlia. His thoughts betrayed his calmness. He turned to his friend and Adrian saw the desperate look he had.

"Take a handful of men and go to Dahlia. Make sure she's safe. Please." What started off as an order slowly slipped into begging. Adrian could see the high stakes in this. If they got Dahlia, who knows what they'd do. They might take her back to the king or worse, kill her where she stands. Adrian nodded and turned around, shouting at some men to follow him back.

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Dahlia was sitting inside her tent. She was with Nicholas. They sat together by the table, Dahlia reading him a book. The Fleeting Swan. It was Timothée and Dahlia's favourite book and she could only hope that Nicholas liked it too. Their time together was cut short when a group of five men walked into the tent. Dahlia recognized the colours on them. It was her house colours. They stood up in alarm.

"C'mon, my lady. You're going back to your father." One of them said. His face was covered in a messy beard and his voice was gruff. They looked very intimidating.

"What makes you think I'll come with you?" Dahlia questioned them. She pulled Nicholas behind her, trying to shield him with her body.

"Don't ask questions. You're coming with us." The same man replied. Before Dahlia could come up with a rebuttal, Nicholas stepped in front of her.

"You're not taking her away!" It would have been a funny sight to see if it weren't for the severity of the situation. A little boy standing up to a group of men.

"Move out of the way, you little shit." The man said before pushing him out of the way. Nicholas fell down into a heap on the floor. The man grabbed Dahlia's bare upper arm, already imprinting a large bruise. He yanked her forward.

"How dare you-" Dahlia was cut off by a sharp pain against her cheek. She could feel the blood from a large gash streaming down her face. The man's armoured glove had some of her blood on it.

"It's treason to hit a Princess." The voice came from the entrance of the tent. Adrian stood there, a group of men just outside.

"Fuck off." The man grumbled. Adrian didn't look pleased to hear that response and he drew his sword. The Kingsmen drew theirs. Timothée's men marched in. The tent was large enough to hold them all, but the room to fight was minimal. The man who held Dahlia put his sword to her throat. Dahlia saw Nicholas going to get up and help her, but she sent him a look. She mouthed for him to stay down.

"Back off or the little lady gets it." His threat felt empty. The only fear for life Dahlia had was for others around her. This man wouldn't kill her. Her father wanted Dahlia alive.

"We both know that's not a good idea. Just let her go and maybe you won't be killed." Adrian negotiated. The men sent to capture Dahlia folded. They dropped their swords. The man who had Dahlia refused to back down, "Let's not make this any harder." Adrian was cautiously approaching them.

Dahlia saw a moment of hesitation from her captor and took that as a chance. She kicked behind her and managed to hit his sensitive area. She ducked down and sprinted forward. The sword gently scraped her neck. The cut wasn't large and didn't put her in any immediate danger, but it did hurt. The man winced and fell down. Adrian stepped forward and tackled him. The group that he brought tied the men in chains and dragged them out. Once they were gone, the only people left in the tent were Dahlia, Adrian, and Nicholas. Dahlia moved to see Nicholas, who got up and jumped up on her.

"Are you alright?" Adrian asked. He scanned the injuries on her and knew that Timothée wasn't going to be happy.

"I'm fine." Dahlia wasn't telling the truth. She wasn't okay but there were other things to focus on. Her thoughts went dark, "Is Timothée okay?" If Adrian was here, something must have happened to him.

"Timothée is alright. The fight was on our side. The group we sent to infiltrate the stronghold should have done their work by now. Nothing to fret, Princess." Adrian slumped into a chair, "Timothée sent me to protect you." Dahlia felt a sense of warmth at that thought. She sat down and Nicholas climbed on her lap. They sat in silence for a while.

"Why doesn't the knight tell the Princess he loves her?" Nicholas questioned. He was referring to the book Dahlia was reading him. Dahlia picks up the book and traced the spine with her fingers.

"He's afraid," Dahlia told him.

"Why be afraid, to tell the truth?"

"Sometimes," Dahlia had trouble with coming up with an explanation for the young boy, "Sometimes it is hard. Telling someone you love them is showing your vulnerability. While there are great rewards, there are also risks."

"Like what happened to my parents? They told the truth." Dahlia could still hear the sound of metal against flesh. His parents heads dropping to the stone ground.

"Yes." Dahlia ran her fingers through his curly hair. She gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. She looked across the table at Adrian and gave him a weak smile, to which he returned. A loud bell sounded in the distance. It rang with no sign of stopping. She could hear distant shouting. Her eyes met Adrian's. She didn't know what was happening. She also didn't know that two words could give her so much relief.

"Timothée's won."

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Dahlia and Adrian walked through the halls of Islegold. They made their way speedily to the main chamber area. Dahlia was playing with her hands. She had so many nerves coursing through her. They walked into a room being guarded by two soldiers. Timothée, Kian, and Armie were sitting in chairs by a lit fire, the bright sun from the outside illuminating the room. Three people were tending to their wounds.

Kian and Armie didn't have many, but Timothée looked far worse. His face only had a few cuts, but the blood seeping from his shirt and pants covered the majority of his wounds. Dahlia could tell they were deep gashes from swords sharper than most. She saw his discarded armour on the ground, dented, muddy, and covered in blood. When their presence was noticed, Timothée looked up and saw them. He immediately got out of his chair and limped towards Dahlia. One of his hands went to her right cheek, just below her large bruise and cut. The other went to the side of her cut neck.

"Are you okay?" His voice wavered. His eyes scanned over her face and neck, worry clouding them.

"I'm okay." She gave him a weak smile, but he could see through her lies. He realized that others were watching and let go of her.

"Please leave us." Timothée requested.  They all made a quick exit. Just as Adrian was walking out, Timothée grabbed his arm. They made eye contact. "Thank you, brother." Adrian nodded and backed out. Once everyone was gone, Dahlia was engulfed in a hug. She never received this type of affection from him and it took her a while to wrap her arms around him. He then let go and grabbed her hand, leading her into a chair by the fire. He found a wooden bowl of water and a cloth and started to clean her cuts.

"Timothée, you need more medical attention." Dahlia insisted.

"That doesn't matter right now." His tone was final and she decided not to push further. They stayed in silence as he washed and bandaged her. Dahlia felt the roughness of his fingers. They were cold. His eyes paid attention to her while all Dahlia could look at was his face. She couldn't help but notice how attractive he looked when he was focused. Not that he wasn't attractive when he wasn't focused. They were finally done and Dahlia sat back and let out a sigh.

"Once my father finds out you've taken Islegold he will be furious." Dahlia looked his way to find that he was already looking at her.

"I'm aware." Timothée seemed very calm. He rubbed his hands together and stared into the fire.

"You do know you can't go back now?" She fiddled with her hands.

"The want for revolution started years ago. Yes, I did gather forces together and we did declare our defiance against the crown. That was all the beginning, " Timothée sucked in a breath, "Now, the revolution has truly begun." He reached out and grabbed her hand, rubbing soft circles on her palm. Together, they stared into the flames.