Always stood out.

Right from the start, you could pick me out of a bunch of kids, see me in a crowd; well, I was taller than most.

Didn't like to obey, fought when I learnt at every stop. Exasperated every would-be teacher, infuriated every hopeful sage, wanting to take the wild fatherless girl and tame her.

Forget it.

Naturally, I led the attack against Cortese, couldn't help but get the others together, spurring them on. There's something in me that can't bear direction, that knows the right way. I can't be bent - though maybe I've been broken, sometimes. I made my own way every time. No one saw me and smiled, dreaming of who I'd be. The little golden haired boys were picked for greatness, the pretty placid girls. I struggled and I fought and I took.

'Til he chose me.

Never knew what it meant to be seen amongst the background of a thousand others, and be greeted with a smile.

"You're the one."

It moved me; changed my abrupt awkwardness into smooth confidence.

"I chose you."

Out of millions. It made my eyes widen when I thought of it - even my heart softened, a little. He knew others - he'd had others. He knew all the warriors, Hector, his Achilles; and he chose me.

What it meant was that he watched out for me. Was careful that my pain never overcame me, my skill never let me down. My body never destroyed; wounds healed, without the scars I deserved. He cherished me.

I never really chose him, though. And finally I rejected him; the ways of the world he taught me. Think only of yourself. Kill or be killed. They're all out to get you. Store up money, possessions - they're enough for a soul. Trust no one... I rejected them all and turned my back on him.

Then - I was chosen again by the most persistent, stubborn, sweet and infuriating girl you could ever hope to meet. No interest in taming me, she picked me out as I was; or at least, how she thought I was. Trying to pretend my darkness never frightened her . . . sometimes I wonder if instead someone else chose us . . .

Together we became who we were meant to be. Who gets such sweet redemption? Grew together, gaining and losing innocence in equal amounts, learning wonder. I'm so far now from who I was, but you still choose me. Even now, your eyes light up with hope if my face turns to you, if my eyes soften. Don't you see how afraid I am around you? My defences return, because I like who I am now. And though I attack, fighting your dark wisdom, still you choose me . . .

I watched you, last time, without you seeing me; your face unguarded, your body relaxed. Then you turned your head towards me and smiled . . .

You held out your hand and chose me again. When I touched you, I trembled and melted; my eyes filled with tears. Still you smiled. Tracing the bones in my throat, you searched for and found a shadow, you kissed it away. Good at that - making the dark seem brighter. You claimed incredible things for me, then - purity, wholeness, untouched beauty. When you knew exactly how bruised and broken I was. But as you cherished me, so was I perfect. My narrow wrists, which you held, the mark below my right breast, which you kissed. My used-up body became new for you, and my cries made you sigh with joy.

Is it time, now, to choose? You cherish me still - afraid of what the world would be without me, you saved me. Afraid of who you became in your grief, a toy of a conqueror, you saved me. As I am; that's how you want me. You know both my darkness and my light. How I want to be chosen.

It's my turn to choose. Out of the millions. Out of all the men I've known. Someone who'll became the one they were always meant to be - someone to cherish - someone to love.

My chosen.

The End