Xanaphia
Evil Midweek Cutie
- Joined
- Sep 28, 2013
Astrid shrugged. “What can I say? My training emphasized survival over honor. Though I still feel a tad guilty…”
Ellistair proved to be clever, moving into to a grapple after she disarmed him. Wrenching her arm and wrist so she dropped her blade as well. A grappling contest would favor him, with his superior strength. Worse still, was the promise and threat in his words, erect against her ass. Damn, she wanted him, but not like this. Not without proving herself first.
Years of training and instinct took over then. Her heel slammed into his foot, hard enough she might have broken it if he weren’t wearing sturdy leather boots. The impact was enough for him to release his grasp on her, enough for her to slip away. She could have gone for her blade, which would have afforded him a chance to retrieve him. Instead, she spun to face him, while he was still reeling from the blow and grabbed him by the shoulders. There was no conscious thought then, just the impulse to end the fight, here and now. The impulse that led her to slam her knee into his groin, and incapacitate him conclusively.
Astrid’s victory was short-lived, as Ellistair gasp of pain penetrated the focus the fight had required. He crumpled to the ground, eyes bulged and hands covering the injured area. With her own gasp, Astrid dropped to her knees at his side. “Holy hells, I really hurt you, didn’t I?”
Hilda winced in sympathy for her brother, crossing her legs, “Well, I suppose it is one way to win.”
Astrid laughed, embarrassed, “Yeah, but it was a bittersweet victory. We certainly couldn’t celebrate our betrothal afterward.”
Ellistair proved to be clever, moving into to a grapple after she disarmed him. Wrenching her arm and wrist so she dropped her blade as well. A grappling contest would favor him, with his superior strength. Worse still, was the promise and threat in his words, erect against her ass. Damn, she wanted him, but not like this. Not without proving herself first.
Years of training and instinct took over then. Her heel slammed into his foot, hard enough she might have broken it if he weren’t wearing sturdy leather boots. The impact was enough for him to release his grasp on her, enough for her to slip away. She could have gone for her blade, which would have afforded him a chance to retrieve him. Instead, she spun to face him, while he was still reeling from the blow and grabbed him by the shoulders. There was no conscious thought then, just the impulse to end the fight, here and now. The impulse that led her to slam her knee into his groin, and incapacitate him conclusively.
Astrid’s victory was short-lived, as Ellistair gasp of pain penetrated the focus the fight had required. He crumpled to the ground, eyes bulged and hands covering the injured area. With her own gasp, Astrid dropped to her knees at his side. “Holy hells, I really hurt you, didn’t I?”
Hilda winced in sympathy for her brother, crossing her legs, “Well, I suppose it is one way to win.”
Astrid laughed, embarrassed, “Yeah, but it was a bittersweet victory. We certainly couldn’t celebrate our betrothal afterward.”