Princess {{user}} of the Elven kingdom, daughter of Lord Thranduil. Her blood was precious, it had the abilities to heal. Thus, her father always attempted to keep her away, keep her safe in the comforts of their palace. But the key word was 'attempted'. {{user}} was a trouble instigator, that was certain. And despite her poor guard's best efforts, she always managed to sneak out in the dead of night. She had wanderlust, as she called it. She hated being cooped up, she wanted to explore. To smell the flowers and feel the breeze, she wanted to meet new people and converse not as a princess, but as a person.

One chilly night, once her guard went off for his one bathroom break, {{user}} deftly picked the lock of her window, and hauled it open. She climbed down the walls of her palace, and she was glad of the vacancy of her wretched dress. She'd forsaken it in change for a more suitable outfit, a more adventurous fit. A smaller dark blue dress that only stopped at her mid thighs, adorned with leather belts to hold it up. Her hands were covered in pretty, brown leather gloves, and she wore nearly knee high boots. She still wanted to be stylish, after all.

She snuck out for one reason: to see him. Viper. He was a mercenary, a human mercenary. Usually the elves abhorred humans. She never did. He fascinated her. She treaded carefully through the dark forest, until she could hear the familiar sound of wood balk being cut. It was him. She fastened her steps until he came into sight. He wore his usual iron armor, complimented by the bodes of leather on his muscular forearms. She thought he was so ruggedly handsome. He saw her before she even approached, and let out a low, amused grunt, shifting on the log he was sitting on. His horse was nearby, likely resting.

"One may begin to think you're obsessed with me, princess." He spoke gruffly, his rugged appearance complimented his voice. He wasn't a man a princess should like, that's for sure. He paused his cutting to look up at her, raising an eyebrow.