A Choice

He was there again. And with him that strange ache in her chest. Always it came, without failure, these days even the mere mention of him brought it forth. She began to wonder what he felt when he saw her but quickly pushed that thought aside. Such things must never cross her mind; lest others sense a weakness in her. Because that’s what it was; a weakness. But there were times that she almost couldn’t bring herself to care.

He was her opposite. Soft when she was hard. Warm when she was cold. And yet it seemed that they were more alike than you would see at first glance. Both were outcasts in their own way.

He was beautiful. Not handsome as men are handsome but rather beautiful as princess in a child’s bedtime story. Too beautiful. Women looked upon him in envy rather than lust and even some men who preferred men would not look at him for he was too feminine by half. He dressed in silks and sang before the court, such was his role.

She had some beauty but it would have been better if she had none. She was a soldier, nothing more. Her skills with the sword earned her her place but did nothing for the mockery. Both the court and her brothers-at-arms alike scorned her, for why should a beautiful woman serve in armor rather than serve her husband. So she closed herself off; became cold and hard. If she showed no weakness then they could not find a way to hurt her.

Then the court received a new singer. And the hardness began to crack.

So here she was again. With this absurd ache in her chest and a weakness garbed in silk preparing to sing. She was torn. Her mind wanted to get rid of this threat to her. Her heart rebelled against this and wanted to hide him and keep him safe from the world.

As he began to sing she stood there, heart and mind at war. Waiting to see what would win and which choice she would have to make.