A little story I wrote a while ago... I think it was for school...
Only about a page and a half long, but very cute!

I've updated this story! It's much better now.

© Nancy C. Ward. All rights reserved!

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Gwendolin's Story

   Once, there lived a young princess by the name of Gwendolyn. Gwendolyn loved fencing more than anything else in the world, except her horse Darkmoon. She studied and practiced every day for years until she was as good or better than anyone in the whole country. She was very proud of her skills and made sure to keep practicing so she would remain exceptional with the sword.
   One day, when Gwendolyn was 17 years of age, her brother came to her with an angry look in his eyes.
   “Gwendolyn, you must stop fencing!” he said.
   “Why, brother?” Gwendolyn inquired.
   “It’s just not ladylike! A girl should not be fencing the way you do! It’s unnatural, girls just don’t fence!”
   “This girl does!” Gwendolyn replied indignantly.
   “But you shouldn’t!” he persisted angrily.
   Gwendolyn was offended. “Fine,” she said, scowling at him, “I will fence with you. If I win, you will leave me alone and let me fence. If you win, I will agree to never fence again.”
   “Very well,” said her brother.

   Out of the window of the castle, Gwendolyn’s father watched as the two prepared to fence with each other. He laughed and turned to his advisor, Gronn.
   “There is no way Gwendolyn can win this! She is a girl! She is crazy if she thinks she can beat her brother.”
   “I wouldn’t be too sure,”: Gronn said in response. “I think you should watch this duel. You may be surprised by the outcome.”
   “I won’t be surprised. I know my son will win. Gwendolyn is a girl, she cannot fence.” the king said determinedly.
   Gronn just smiled.

   Gwendolyn spun her sword in her hand, getting her arm ready for the duel. She nodded, satisfied. Turning to her brother, she said, “In order to win, one of us must have the other on their knees at sword point. We may not deliver and serious blows. Is that agreeable?”
   He nodded and the two crossed swords.
   They fought fiercely and for a very long time. Sometimes it seemed that Gwendolyn was winning, and at other times it seemed that her brother was.
   Finally, Gwendolyn sent her brother’s sword flying out of reach. She turned the point at him and furrowed her eyebrows.
   “On your knees, brother!” she ordered.
   Her brother looked shocked, but faced with the blade of his sister’s sword, he sunk to his knees and admitted defeat in shame.
   Gwendolyn lowered her sword with a sigh. She knew her father wouldn’t forgive her for shaming his only son. Turning, she found her way to the stable, saddled Darkmoon and rode off away from the palace and her home.

   Months passed and Gwendolyn traveled, practicing fencing and learning about the world. She didn’t meet too many people, but preferred to stay out of the way of cities.
   One day, she came upon a stranger knight taking a drink from a stream. Gwendolyn dismounted and led her horse over to him.
   “State your name, sir knight,” she said.
   “I am Sir Rollahan of Pensland, and sworn enemy of King Bellostra.” said the knight.
   “Then cross swords with me Sir Rollahan, for king Bellostra is my father!” declared Gwendolyn.
   Sir Rollahan looked confused. “But you’re only a girl!” he said.
   “I may be a girl,” Gwendolyn told him, putting her hands on her hips, “but I am not weak! I challenge you!”
   The knight drew his sword. “Very well, I accept!”
   They fought. The knight, believing Gwendolyn would be easy to beat, was shocked when she proved a worthy opponent. He grew frustrated at her skills and began to make mistakes.
   Suddenly, Gwendolyn disarmed him. She turned the point of her sword on him. “Unless you wish to die,” she said, “here is what you must do. Go to my father and beg his forgiveness for all the evil you have committed.”
   “Yes, your highness,” Sir Rollahan said.
   “And if you don’t,” Gwendolyn continued, “I will hunt you down and kill you.”
   Sir Rollahan nodded. “Of course.”
   Gwendolyn mounted Darkmoon and rode off.
   She continued her travels and sent messages to her father asking if anyone had shown up at the castle. Her father continually replied that no one had. Finally, after a month had passed, Gwendolyn knew the knight had betrayed his promise.
   She set off to search for him. It did not take her long, she was clever and soon discovered where Sir Rollahan was hiding. She took him by surprise.
   “You did not do as you promised!” Gwendolyn said putting the point of her sword to his throat once again. “I will escort you back to my father’s court and then I swear I will kill you for breaking your promise!” Gwendolyn told the knight angrily.
   Gwendolyn took Sir Rollahan back to her father’s castle. When they reached the throne room, she forced him to beg for her father’s forgiveness as he had promised he would.
   Then Gwendolyn said to him, “Now I shall do as I promised!” And with that word she raised her sword and sliced his neck with one swift stroke.
   Bowing to her father, she apologized for the intrusion and bid him farewell. She returned outside, mounted Darkmoon, and galloped off. Her father and Gronn watched her go.
   “If you were to make her queen of your land, she would be the greatest ruler in the history of your kingdom,” Gronn observed.

   Over the next few years, Gwendolyn traveled around the world, conquering all of the knights who were enemies of her father and sending them back to beg her father’s forgiveness.
   The king was deeply impressed with his daughter, and soon he sent for her.
   When she arrived the king went to her. “Welcome home daughter!” he said. “You have made me very proud! You have proven yourself to be worthy of ruling this kingdom when I am gone. I have decided to announce you today as my heir.”
   “Thank you father.” said Gwendolyn brimming with pride.

   When king Bellostra died Gwendolyn became Queen. Gronn was right, Gwendolyn was a wonderful ruler. So great was she that even those who had been her enemies came and swore eternal faithfulness. Gwendolyn had shown everyone that she, a woman, could be a hero too.

The End

© Nancy C. Ward