(Why do I agree to do anything on a word limit? FFFffffft. Still, this popped in my head and wouldn't get out. Hope it lives up to expectations! :))

Together they sat on one of many rowboats floating down stream. Nothing was ahead of them or behind them, just unending water.

He recognized the blood still clinging to the clothes she clutched in her arms. She recognized the symbol hanging on his neck.

“I knew only the stories, yet admired him greatly,” he told her when she asked about it. “He was a great martyr. No, he was a great troll.”

“He was,” she agreed, softly. She clutched the pants she held tighter to her chest, allowing him to pat her shoulder.

They floated on in peaceful, silent agreement.