Camelot

 The battle cry sounded.

A lone piper stood on the knoll playing a haunting tune.

Fierce warriors sat in the saddle with swords at the ready to begin the battle.

Eerie sounds echo in the mist surrounding the castle in the valley below.

Many booted feet trampled the ground for the men, and women, to be in place to stave off the attack of their unknown foe.

The beat of the hearts sounded in time to the beat of the advancing avengers.

Balls of fire rain down in the mist to set fire to the heaps of kindling branches stacked under the cover of darkness around the circumference of the castle walls.

The timber crackled in the heat of the moment.

Flames rose to cast eerie movement in the mist.

The heart pounded against the wall of her chest to be freed.

To escape out into the unknown territory of love.

A true love which had evaded her all her life.

The love of someone with whom to share a wonderful life together.

A fantasy love of which had invaded her dreams from a young age.

Dreams where a place where Rosanna went during the bad experiences during her tender years. Years in which her parents fought each other.

Tempers flare.

Voices rose.

Skin on skin contact when hands, and fists, connected.

The cry of battle raged well into the night.

Battle scared her father declared his undying love for her mother.

A promise made in the early morning to be broken when they meet after sundown.

In her fantasy world Rosanna wore rose tinted glasses where the flame of love never dimmed, or died. Love flourished to a bright burning flame never to be tainted with anger. Never to freeze the flame to become brittle to splinter to cause pain. To lay like dust at her feet.

There he stood.

Her prince.

He rose from the ashes of the battle of hearts to stand tall to receive her love.

Their hearts beat as one.

To be cherished with a sparkling flame of eternal love.

The walls of Camelot broken with a surviving love.