He was Jerusalem. (King Baldwin x OC fanfic)

Prologue-

The earth shook under the weight of 7 thousand men. Heavy hooves beat against the dirt as the templars lined themself in formation that would soon go into war.  

It had been a long few days chasing after the Muslim king, Saladin; before they had him confined in the land of Montgisard with no place to run. 

The men were growing restless in their bunches. Awaiting orders that would lead them into battle against the Muslim sultan. 
In the distance, Saladin sat atop his horse watching them as they watched him. His army of ten to twenty-six thousand Muslim men perched as his backdrop. 
The Christians were easily outnumbered. 

The hot desert wind beat against the young mysterious woman's body as she sat afront the King's army of Christian men. Tailored with exhaustion and heat from travelling so vast. With dirt baked into her scorched skin where the armour did not hide. 
Whatever emotion she was feeling at that moment mattered not for what was to come. She was the moment. With her knotted dark hair billowing like a whip beneath her silver helmet, her sword glistening at her side as she stared down what she hoped to be the sultan's gaze in the distance. 
He would remember this face. Even if it accompanied him in death, the youth told herself. That she would be the one to smite him.

The large beast beneath the youth- her trusted mare, Montimilius, stirred upon the arrival of the army's leader, and the young woman tore her gaze away. 
She was met with that of the King. A leper. With coloured eyes that quenched a thousand thirsts. Blue and gentle like an oasis. 
His white robes flew about him in the warm wind as he joined the young woman's side. The chainmail and armour heavy on the bandages he wore to conceal his condition.
The young leper's silver mask shined like the waters of the river Jordan beneath the harsh sun.
It was the face of Jerusalem. 

The young woman knew this leper only as Baldwin. Sweet and funny Baldwin. 
The girl's closest friend.

There was a warm smile beneath that cold mask of his as the two sat side by side on their respected mounts. It was as if the two youths were in session together as kids, awaiting guidance from their teachers both William of Tyre and Godfrey of Ibelin. As if they were kids again, only reading about battle and studying it with curious minds under the candlelight of their chambers. Not staring it in the eye as they stood at the very mouth. Unsure of their fates.
They were after all...still kids. 

Sixteen at age. 

"It has been too long, old friend" the young King greeted with a nod of his head. "A shame for us to reunite like this in such circumstances."
The young woman too bowed her head in response. 
This war had done well ensuring all happiness was stripped from the girl's being. Leaving her as cold as the rivers surrounding the foreign land Saladin hailed from. As cold as the nights spent under the stars those past few days awaiting to strike.
So hearing the light humour in her friend's voice set whatever was left of her thoughts at ease. 
"Not at all, my King. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Where you go, Baldwin. I go. Even till death, I will loyally follow. 

The young woman's hand itched to link with his. That last bit of reassurance needed before their fates were tested on the battlefield. 
She wanted to feel his familiar warmth and she wanted to look upon him without regard for the others. 
That she was indeed not like them. A woman. 
A woman in love with her King who was a leper. 
Loyal enough, that she would follow him into war. 

Baldwin drew his sword from its sheath and caught the attention of his men. Her own likewise in fist.
He gave the girl one final nod over the roar of the other Christian templars. One final glimpse of a smile before they would meet their ultimate end- whether it be in heaven or standing atop the soil of their home. A silent prayer on the edge of both their lips. Heard only to them both as trumpets flared in the distance; signalling their advance towards the foreign enemy.  

"God be with you."

------

At that time, Aetri was only sixteen when she had that dream. She awoke with tears in her eyes; panting as if she had run a marathon. With skin hot as if she had come from the Sahara. 
There was a longing in her bones as if she had lost someone dear to her. 
A piece of her soul torn from her body. 

The only problem was that she remembered nothing of that strange dream. Though the longing in her chest never ceased till it was all that filled the cracked fissures of her mind. 
That someone had cared for her. Loved her. Fought for her.
That very someone who was nothing but the mythic fantasy of her subconscious. 

It broke her heart and she didn't even know why.