She falls to the ground, bound and helpless, terrified and furious and resigned. She knows she's not going to escape any longer, watching the black-armored knight taking his own sweet time in caring for his horse, she and he both knowing full well that his prisoner was going nowhere this time. Though she is afraid, she is also furious, because helpless though she be – her doom fast approaching – she dislikes being helpless. She doesn't want to die, but she is more worried about the green dragon – sea-green dragon with golden eyes, carrying her high above the treetops, carrying her from danger despite her screaming struggles (or were they silent? She doesn't know, now, but it doesn't matter,) guardian-dragon – left to the misled villagers.

"Knave," she spits, struggling uselessly against the bonds (she knows she's helpless, unable to get free, but it's a matter of principle,) glaring up at the black knight. He laughs down at her, reveling in her ineffectiveness, in the knowledge of defeating the dragon and capturing the girl. He leans down, kisses her – she doesn't pull away quickly enough, feels dirty and defiled, and his grip on her chin is too strong – pulls out his knife.

Wingbeats, moving the trees and rolling like thunder. She looks up, eyes widening in amazement and hope – he looks up, furious and disbelieving – their gazes meet briefly through the helmet's visor -

She screams, barrier of anger collapsing into a rush of fear and grief – no no no no, I can't die yet, I have so much left to live for no no please no I don't want to die I don't want to dieIdon'twanttodi — burning icy steel straight into her heart and it hurts, it hurts, and she can feel herself bleeding all over the ground and her white dress and she can hear her dragon bellow – no, hiss – no –