Clang!
The girl clad in a noble's green dress slammed her dulled blade against a dummy. She had been going at this for a while now, finally dropping to her knees and trying to catch her breath, the sword falling next to her from her left hand and the shield on her right shaking ever slightly with her hand. The child, around her mid teens, stood after a few minutes, face reddened from practicing.
Jamie had said she had the basics down.
Elizabeth had fallen in a spar against her.
Loic probably wouldn't stand a chance.
The girl smiled to herself, pleased with her abilities that didn't exist a meer few weeks ago. She allowed the thoughts of Shae and Baird and Benedict betraying them leave her. She allowed the minutes of watching Darak have his chest opened leave her. The simple, childish joy of knowing something made her bounce slightly on her toes, a wide grin on her face.
Rarely anyone saw her in such a state, happy and not being sarcastic in her fluent tongue. Eliza had seen it, maybe, when she had embraced her after Benedict cracked her heart abandoning them. Jamie must have seen it when he had announced her good enough. The fort felt homely to the little girl who's presences there was unneeded. She should be in Regalia but she would make no such move. No one could make her leave.
The girl, who's green gown rustled slightly with her, turned and made her way from the armory. She hummed slightly, glancing down at the still slightly stained snow from Tristan's last visit. The blood was dulled now to a brown, old color instead of crimson red. Her feet left small prints in the snow as she went, climbing the stone steps to the second floor of the fort and glancing about at all the cobwebs on the ceiling and reminding herself they needed to be beat down if she still wanted to be considered useful. She then glanced down at her dirtied skirt.
Shae had promised to make her pants, but that promise was no longer useful seeing as the Tigran had up and left her for the (un)holy city. She thought for a moment, remembering watching women knit and see before. Juliette turned on her heels and dashed into a room, searching for a pair to trousers to change to her own. She needed them if she planned on helping fight a war.
The girl clad in a noble's green dress slammed her dulled blade against a dummy. She had been going at this for a while now, finally dropping to her knees and trying to catch her breath, the sword falling next to her from her left hand and the shield on her right shaking ever slightly with her hand. The child, around her mid teens, stood after a few minutes, face reddened from practicing.
Jamie had said she had the basics down.
Elizabeth had fallen in a spar against her.
Loic probably wouldn't stand a chance.
The girl smiled to herself, pleased with her abilities that didn't exist a meer few weeks ago. She allowed the thoughts of Shae and Baird and Benedict betraying them leave her. She allowed the minutes of watching Darak have his chest opened leave her. The simple, childish joy of knowing something made her bounce slightly on her toes, a wide grin on her face.
Rarely anyone saw her in such a state, happy and not being sarcastic in her fluent tongue. Eliza had seen it, maybe, when she had embraced her after Benedict cracked her heart abandoning them. Jamie must have seen it when he had announced her good enough. The fort felt homely to the little girl who's presences there was unneeded. She should be in Regalia but she would make no such move. No one could make her leave.
The girl, who's green gown rustled slightly with her, turned and made her way from the armory. She hummed slightly, glancing down at the still slightly stained snow from Tristan's last visit. The blood was dulled now to a brown, old color instead of crimson red. Her feet left small prints in the snow as she went, climbing the stone steps to the second floor of the fort and glancing about at all the cobwebs on the ceiling and reminding herself they needed to be beat down if she still wanted to be considered useful. She then glanced down at her dirtied skirt.
Shae had promised to make her pants, but that promise was no longer useful seeing as the Tigran had up and left her for the (un)holy city. She thought for a moment, remembering watching women knit and see before. Juliette turned on her heels and dashed into a room, searching for a pair to trousers to change to her own. She needed them if she planned on helping fight a war.
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