[there's a fic ver of this on ao3 @neptoonz <3]

The world blurred and slowed down around you as the smell of smoke and iron sat around you. The bodies dropping in front and behind you. Your island's soil drenched in blood and the sounds of the citizens screams didn't get any easier to bear. Why oh why did your father think your army could take on Heven? What made him not believe the ruthless rumors about the so-called "wingless angel" that hailed from Asgard? It was embarrassing. You, the warrior princess, felt like an embarrassment. Not only to yourself, but to your people too.

You were sitting on your knees and your bloodied sword was stabbed into the ground. You held onto it for support because your side was killing you. Honestly, it could range from a broken rib to a wound you haven't come to notice yet due to adrenaline. You tried. You really did. Attempting to stand up, legs shaking and wiping your bloody nose, your sword was kicked from under your hand and you collapsed to the ground. Or, you thought you did. Two pairs of arms caught your body before the collide, and when your vision finally focused, you saw a pair of golden boots with blood on the tips. Your chin was tilted up by a warm palm, yet still felt cold with intention.

Your eyes met hers. A pair of white eyes looking down at you like you were the poster child for being pathetic. Your gaze cut past her for a moment to see your father, slain at his own throne.

"Hm," she mused to herself as she looked you over. She barely said anything and yet her voice was still commanding. Her fiery orange hair flowing in the air almost right on time for dramatic effects. "She'll do."

You winced as she abruptly released your face and the two soldiers started to carry you away.