15min fic #96
Apr. 3rd, 2005 08:21 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annarti.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
yrae
Title~ Round One
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Whaddaya know, it's mine
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 96. Just cos I haven't done any mini!fics in a~ges. Month or more =0 I've been suddenly getting inspiration for Silent Harmony itself, so been writing that. Anyway, fic! =D
“A swordsman’s ring is no place for such a dainty flower!”
Nimay cocked an eyebrow at the brusque Llayan she was to fight. Of course, not everyone knew she was classed among the best swordsmen in the kingdom. She smiled sweetly and gave a florid curtsey vaguely reminiscent of those she had seen performed by the Llayan women.
A number of wolf whistles sounded from the crowd watching. A glance told her that most had come from the Raykinian contingent. She shook her head ruefully at them and jabbed her sword point in Melraan’s general direction.
“Swordsmen, take guard!” The yellow-robed Llayan official’s voice rose a decibel or two above the crowd as the two competitors took up their positions.
The Llayan swordsman’s arms were pale and lean, certainly not bearing the muscles of a man who swung steel all day. His large, heavy feet stood flat on the earth—Nimay instantly knew his footwork would leave something to be desired.
“First blood-draw from the torso!” he shouted again, drawing a grin from Nimay’s lips. It had been a few years since she’d heard those words. “ALI!”
The Llayan swordsman immediately charged at her, completely ignoring the basic rule of engagement that saw the two opponents circle each other for a few moments before the match began. Whether this was his normal procedure or whether he simply felt he could take on a woman with little worries.
Nimay, for her part, spun out of the way as the Llayan bore down on her, shaking her head briefly as he stumbled past with no control over his feet.
She darted around and slashed with her sword, but somehow the Llayan had managed to bring his own blade up to meet hers with a clash of steel. He cried out briefly, his hands jarring against the force of Nimay’s downward swing, and the reflex action made his fingers loosen on the sword hilt, dropping it in the dirt.
It took no more than a flick of her wrist for Nimay to stain the man’s shirt with his own blood. She stood back from her handiwork, barely having broken a sweat, and gave another florid curtsey before prancing daintily from the arena, swinging sword and scabbard as a Llayan lady might swing her paralsol. She loved Llayan tournaments.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Whaddaya know, it's mine
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 96. Just cos I haven't done any mini!fics in a~ges. Month or more =0 I've been suddenly getting inspiration for Silent Harmony itself, so been writing that. Anyway, fic! =D
“A swordsman’s ring is no place for such a dainty flower!”
Nimay cocked an eyebrow at the brusque Llayan she was to fight. Of course, not everyone knew she was classed among the best swordsmen in the kingdom. She smiled sweetly and gave a florid curtsey vaguely reminiscent of those she had seen performed by the Llayan women.
A number of wolf whistles sounded from the crowd watching. A glance told her that most had come from the Raykinian contingent. She shook her head ruefully at them and jabbed her sword point in Melraan’s general direction.
“Swordsmen, take guard!” The yellow-robed Llayan official’s voice rose a decibel or two above the crowd as the two competitors took up their positions.
The Llayan swordsman’s arms were pale and lean, certainly not bearing the muscles of a man who swung steel all day. His large, heavy feet stood flat on the earth—Nimay instantly knew his footwork would leave something to be desired.
“First blood-draw from the torso!” he shouted again, drawing a grin from Nimay’s lips. It had been a few years since she’d heard those words. “ALI!”
The Llayan swordsman immediately charged at her, completely ignoring the basic rule of engagement that saw the two opponents circle each other for a few moments before the match began. Whether this was his normal procedure or whether he simply felt he could take on a woman with little worries.
Nimay, for her part, spun out of the way as the Llayan bore down on her, shaking her head briefly as he stumbled past with no control over his feet.
She darted around and slashed with her sword, but somehow the Llayan had managed to bring his own blade up to meet hers with a clash of steel. He cried out briefly, his hands jarring against the force of Nimay’s downward swing, and the reflex action made his fingers loosen on the sword hilt, dropping it in the dirt.
It took no more than a flick of her wrist for Nimay to stain the man’s shirt with his own blood. She stood back from her handiwork, barely having broken a sweat, and gave another florid curtsey before prancing daintily from the arena, swinging sword and scabbard as a Llayan lady might swing her paralsol. She loved Llayan tournaments.