Skin to steel, a scene seldom seen –
a common bloke and warrior queen.
Locked in embrace, a gradual sway.
No crossed stars,
but that was a problem for another day.
Him from song, her from a fortress beyond,
His words held promise and dreams forlorn.
Ballads of kings he’d never met,
Poems of love he’s never felt,
He hoped to wait for the battle to cease,
for then she’ll take off her swords and shields.
Her, on the other hand, she told no tales,
Her wars clung to her skin behind polished plates.
Eyes silently watched through a shadowed slit,
Ornate sheaths hid a bloodstained blade,
No near ceasefire seemed to be in sight,
Anything she touched, she feared would fade.
As his fingers danced over her cold gousset,
at rare times, fate had them fall within.
Through gaps in chainmail and cured leather,
In those few moments, he tasted her skin.
Will they fade, much like she feared?
or will they hold this embrace till her armour withers?