So I had the urge to write something before I went to class, and since Aveline and Varric were the only characters I was actually interested in romancing, and my girlfriend's got Varric well and covered (and I vastly prefer Aveline - pixel crush of the
ages she is) I decided to write a little something. I didn't have time to finish it; it's going to be a bff/support piece with some unrequited love on my Hawke's part. We'll see if I can't get some more done after I get back from my lab. Oh, also, it's f/f. It's nothing romantic, so if that's not your thing, kindly keep it to yourself, as you'd be insulting me more than the characters.
The clang of steel resonated in the training yard of the Amell estate, not an unusal sight by any means, but the two opponents were something of a wonder to behold. The Champion of Kirkwall and the Captain of the Guard met blade to blade, clashing over and over again. Whatever group of guards that found interest in the sparring at first had long since gone back to their training; they had been at this for hours.
Hours. Aveline showed no sign of tiring, and had only just begun to slow in her movements, whereas Edith was quickly embarrassing herself more and more.
It wasn't as if she wasn't a skilled warrior, it was just her focus lied not in the sword and shield she was practicing with, but the claymore, like her younger brother had been. That thought - that fleeting little glimpse of her lost sibling, one she could barely remember after all that had happened in the past years - caused her to let out a sudden roar of rage, barreling down on her dear friend not unlike a charging bull. She saw a pair of orange brows shoot up on the woman's forehead, but that look of surprised was overtaken by one of determination, and a hint of disappointment. Aveline side-stepped just in time, barely avoiding a shield strike to her back as Edith whipped around, hair clinging to her face, long since broken free of her bun, sweat dripping from the ebony strands. She snarled, eyes wild as she went after the redhead again, a silver arch lingering in the air above her head as she struck once more.
The blow was parried, and they remained locked, swords crossed, hardened eyes meeting between the blades. Both of their sword arms shook with exhaustion, though Edith's was far weaker than Aveline's; she was already pressing her back, brow creasing, lip curling up.
"Calm yourself!" she heard a voice, soft in tone but stern and forceful all the same.
"Strike it from your mind, whatever it is, or fall!"
Modifié par Servant of Nature, 15 février 2011 - 01:34 .
Retour en haut
2nd run = Isabela. 3rd run = Anders
Gotta support my Lothering cousins 
![=]](https://lvlt.forum.bioware.com/public/style_emoticons/default/sideways.png)
