Post by sidonie on Apr 6, 2011 8:39:59 GMT 10
Title: Weapons
Rating: PG
Word Count: 426
Pairing: Delia/Josiane – Team Regicide
Round/Fight: 1/H
Summary: Delia's practice is interrupted.
Author's Note: I credit everlights with the idea that Alex might have taught Delia to fence. Thanks!
~~~~~~
Delia circled her opponent, padding lightly across the slate floor. She blinked, attempting to ignore the sweat sliding down her back and dampening her hair. The hilt of her sword was warm in her hand as she gripped it tighter, the muscles in her arms shaking with fatigue.
“Are you going to attack, or shall we just stand here?” Across from her, Alex of Tirragen raised a mocking eyebrow. He was slim, dark, and handsome, yet at the moment Delia was interested only insofar as she could break that pretty nose of his. Arrogant bastard.
She darted in, blade held high. He blocked effortlessly and spun away in one smooth movement. A swipe at his side was similarly foiled, and before she could continue the pattern, her sword was flying across the room, his jumping to press lightly against her throat. She swore and put up her hands in surrender.
“How droll.” The new voice was familiar, a fluting soprano that cut like a knife. Delia looked up to see Princess Josiane Rittevon standing in the doorway, wearing a condescending sneer. As always, she was impeccably dressed, her pale blue gown matching the ice in her eyes.
Delia clenched her jaw and refused to think on the sweat-stained practice clothes she wore. “You disapprove?” she asked, voice quiet.
Josiane simply smiled, lowering her eyelids in a look that should have been sultry, yet came across as terrifying. “Of course,” she murmured. “This fighting doesn't become you.”
“I don't know if you've noticed, but we're starting a revolution,” Delia snapped, trying and failing to control the hot flush of anger in her cheeks. “You may lock yourself in an ivory tower all you wish, but those of us who want to survive must take precautions.”
The princess sauntered across the room. Her hips swayed provocatively, and Alex followed her with his gaze, black eyes unreadable. She paused in front of the rack mounted on the wall, which held weapons of all shapes and sizes. Reaching out a delicate, long-fingered hand, she stroked the razor-sharp edge of an axe, her smug smile widening to a grin as a bright line of blood blossomed against her palm.
“Oh, Delia.” She laughed, the silvery sound entirely at odds with the crazed light in her eyes. “You misunderstand me. I don't object to your training.” Wrapping her bloody hand around the shaft, Josiane hefted the axe, cradling it like a long-lost child. “I simply find your choice of weapons rather unimaginative.”
QC by PeroxidePirate
Rating: PG
Word Count: 426
Pairing: Delia/Josiane – Team Regicide
Round/Fight: 1/H
Summary: Delia's practice is interrupted.
Author's Note: I credit everlights with the idea that Alex might have taught Delia to fence. Thanks!
~~~~~~
Delia circled her opponent, padding lightly across the slate floor. She blinked, attempting to ignore the sweat sliding down her back and dampening her hair. The hilt of her sword was warm in her hand as she gripped it tighter, the muscles in her arms shaking with fatigue.
“Are you going to attack, or shall we just stand here?” Across from her, Alex of Tirragen raised a mocking eyebrow. He was slim, dark, and handsome, yet at the moment Delia was interested only insofar as she could break that pretty nose of his. Arrogant bastard.
She darted in, blade held high. He blocked effortlessly and spun away in one smooth movement. A swipe at his side was similarly foiled, and before she could continue the pattern, her sword was flying across the room, his jumping to press lightly against her throat. She swore and put up her hands in surrender.
“How droll.” The new voice was familiar, a fluting soprano that cut like a knife. Delia looked up to see Princess Josiane Rittevon standing in the doorway, wearing a condescending sneer. As always, she was impeccably dressed, her pale blue gown matching the ice in her eyes.
Delia clenched her jaw and refused to think on the sweat-stained practice clothes she wore. “You disapprove?” she asked, voice quiet.
Josiane simply smiled, lowering her eyelids in a look that should have been sultry, yet came across as terrifying. “Of course,” she murmured. “This fighting doesn't become you.”
“I don't know if you've noticed, but we're starting a revolution,” Delia snapped, trying and failing to control the hot flush of anger in her cheeks. “You may lock yourself in an ivory tower all you wish, but those of us who want to survive must take precautions.”
The princess sauntered across the room. Her hips swayed provocatively, and Alex followed her with his gaze, black eyes unreadable. She paused in front of the rack mounted on the wall, which held weapons of all shapes and sizes. Reaching out a delicate, long-fingered hand, she stroked the razor-sharp edge of an axe, her smug smile widening to a grin as a bright line of blood blossomed against her palm.
“Oh, Delia.” She laughed, the silvery sound entirely at odds with the crazed light in her eyes. “You misunderstand me. I don't object to your training.” Wrapping her bloody hand around the shaft, Josiane hefted the axe, cradling it like a long-lost child. “I simply find your choice of weapons rather unimaginative.”
QC by PeroxidePirate
I agree with Mandi about Delia's strength, and Josiane's obvious insanity. 
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!