[ WP ] A Witch attempts to kill the knight who has been hunting her for years by pretending to be a damsel in distress . As she discovers his ultimate weakness , she realizes she has fallen in love with him .

`` Alright,'' Cassandra said, checking her face in the pocket mirror. `` Just the right amount of doe eye. Maybe overdid the boobs, but somehow I do n't think he'll mind.'' 
 
 Burbank hooted from his perch on the branch next to her. 
 
 `` I did not,'' Cassandra said indignantly. `` My ass fat would n't have filled my chest.'' 
 
 Burbank turned and flew off. 
 
 `` Fine then, go eat a spoiled rat you ungrateful shit,'' she muttered. 
 
 The *clop* of horse hooves filled her ears. 
 
 *Why do you suddenly have butterflies? * Cassandra thought. She cleared her throat, her usual croak rising to a lovely falsetto. 
 
 `` Hello?'' she cried out in a dainty question, pulling her blouse down just a bit more and angling her legs off to the side of the hanging cage in an uncomfortable position. `` Hello, is anyone there? Wo n't someone rescue me?'' 
 
 The sound of the horse came to a stop and silence filled the woods, the crickets and birds sensing something off and staying silent. 
 
 Sir Rothbar, the fabled Black Knight of Red Mourn stepped from behind a tree and examined the young woman. He was n't wearing his armor, but had obviously scouted the scene before revealing himself. 
 
 *You've grown old, Rothbar, * Cassandra thought. *It looks good on you. * Rothbar had indeed gone gray and years in the sun had weathered his face, giving his stern features the appearance of chiseled stone. 
 
 `` Young Miss,'' his deep voice carried. `` Why are you in a cage in a tree?'' 
 
 `` Oh, sir, can you help me?'' Cassandra asked, leaning against the wooden bars and working up a tear to fall between her breasts. `` I have been trapped up here for hours. A wicked old woman trapped me here.'' 
 
 `` Was she tall?'' Rothbar asked. `` With a haggish face and a stoop?'' 
 
 `` Well, I would n't call it a haggish face,'' Cassandra said. `` But yes, that sounds like her.'' 
 
 `` Ah,'' Rothbar said. `` She trussed you up here to slow me down. Clever woman, I'll give her that. Well, be patient, I'll get you down.'' 
 
 `` Oh, thank you sir,'' Cassandra said. 
 
 After some fiddling with the knots of the rope that suspended her in the tree, Rothbar began to lower Cassandra to the ground. He stopped the cage a few feet from the packed earth of the road and cut the bindings of the cage door with a casual swipe of his sword. Gripping Cassandra by the hips, he lifted her effortlessly and set her down. 
 
 `` Oh, ooh, my you're solid sir knight,'' Cassandra said. `` Thank you. I was ever so sure I was done for. Hardly anyone comes down this road.'' 
 
 `` Well, then Miss,'' Rothbar said. `` Where do you hail from?'' 
 
 `` Oh my village is up the road a few days,'' Cassandra said. `` You see, I was on my way to the market at the village south of here when that... that horrible woman captured me.'' 
 
 `` Very well then,'' Rothbar said. `` I will return you to your village before I return to my quest.'' 
 
 Rothbar whistled, and a great black stallion stepped around a tree and approached them. One sniff of Cassandra and it reared. 
 
 `` Easy, easy girl,'' Rothbar said. `` I'm sorry madame, but he must have the scent of the witch in his nose.'' 
 
 *Shit, I forgot the scent spell, * Cassandra said, and began to mutter it under her breath. By the time Rothbar mounted the horse and offered her his arm, Cassandra smelled like sweet oats and the great beast tried to nuzzle her. 
 
 `` Oh, what a sweet creature,'' she said. `` Oh, yes, ah hah hah *knock it off! *'' 
 
 Rothbar hoisted her with one arm behind him and they were off, Cassandra wondering why the feel of him seemed to warm her insides. She leaned back and felt the armor secured on the rear of the horse and smiled to herself. 
 _____________________________________________________________________________ 
 
 Day one was spent in mostly silence, Cassandra asking a few pointed questions of Rothbar. That night at a campfire she told him her name was Sarah, and she began to tell him of her history. Cassandra found herself telling Rothbar of her evil father and dull-witted mother, of the sister tossed down the well because Father was drunk and had dropped something. She told him many things, her script for the young naive Sarah forgotten as she shared the tale of her upbringing. 
 
 Day two, Rothbar started telling war stories as Cassandra pestered him. They were grim things, tales of blood and nightmares. That evening he told her of his loving blacksmith father and mother, and how their plague deaths left the boy orphaned. 
 
 On day three, Cassandra sent up a spell to make it rain, and the road became impassable. In a cave off the road, huddled together for warmth before the fire, Rothbar told her the tale of how he became the squire of the original Black Knight, and how he inherited the legendary armor, it's black metal guarding against all magic even if the knight was n't currently wearing it, so long as the Black Knight kept himself pure. 
 
 *Purity, * Cassandra thought with glee. *There it is. * 
 
 As the evening grew colder, Cassandra drew herself closer to the knight, and with satisfyingly little effort convinced him to break his vow of celibacy. 
 
 Afterwards, laying together wrapped in Rothbar's cloak in their own sweat, she felt herself dozing in the crook of his arm. 
 
 `` Is it everything you hoped for, Cassandra?'' Rothbar said. 
 
 Her eyes snapped open. 
 
 `` Hmm?'' she asked, feigning sleep. 
 
 `` Knock it off,'' Rothbar growled. 
 
 `` Shit,'' Cassandra said, rolling to her feet. `` How long have you known?'' 
 
 `` Since my horse tried to trample you,'' Rothbar said. `` Sloppy of you. Go back to sleep, we'll settle this tomorrow. It's raining outside and I'm cold.'' 
 
 Cassandra dressed instead, and waited on the other side of the fire, wondering why there were tears in her eyes. Her jaw dropped as she heard Rothbar's snore. 
 ____________________________________________________________________________________ 
 
 `` Honor demands we duel,'' Sir Rothbar said solemnly, the morning sun shining on the grass outside the cave. Cassandra's eyes woke from unplanned sleep to find him rustling through his armor outside. 
 
 `` I'm not dueling you,'' Cassandra said. `` We are n't doing this. Put the armor down. Do n't you put on that greave. Take that greave off. Do n't you put on that gauntlet.'' 
 
 `` You killed my Lord,'' Rothbar answered. 
 
 `` He was a prick! He murdered people for fun! Your stupid honor had you bound to a psychopath. I did you a favor.'' 
 
 `` I swore an oath,'' Rothbar said. `` I swore it to his father that I would protect him. I could n't... I could have guided him on the right path if you had n't killed him.'' 
 
 `` No you could n't,'' Cassandra said. `` No one could. You do n't have to do this, Roth, you're vulnerable now. I do n't want to hurt you.'' 
 
'Hah,'' Rothbar said. `` You misunderstood the power of the armor. It is n't celibacy, it's purity as defined by the old charters. So long as I never love anyone but my lord, I am protected. Raise your guard, witch.'' 
 
 Cassandra sighed. `` *Moob*,'' she muttered, and lightning shot from her fingers. Rothbar flew through the air and landed five yards away, his useless armor smoking. Cassandra strolled towards him and stood over his panting form, her arms crossed defiantly. 
 
 `` Ah,'' he said. `` Bugger.'' 
 
 She looked down at him, pity creasing her face. 
 
 `` Breakfast?'' she asked. 
 
 Rothbar contemplated this for a moment. 
 
 `` Yes,'' he agreed, and she helped him up.
