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Entry tags:
Fic: At First Sight
Title: At First Sight
Fandom/original: original/game fic
Rating: G
A/N: The title was the prompt from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rougen.
She was so small. That was the first thing he noticed. Her age aside, she was a tiny thing, all sharp angles. Even the slanting locks of dirty blond hair looked sharp. Her scowl was fierce enough to cut, small chin jutting out with defiance. She was... seven? Maybe eight. The longer he looked at her, the more he noticed; her blue eyes would probably be large when they weren't narrowed, and there was something about her that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Probably magical talent of some kind. It was rare, but would explain how she'd survived on her own that long. That, and pure stubbornness.
"Well?" she said, angrily. "Now what?'
--
She was not terribly impressed. It wasn't that he wasn't nice to look at; she had no doubt many women before her had, and many women after her would, appreciate the strong line of his slightly stubbled jaw, the lazy curve a smile that drew the eye. Good shoulders, to give him his due, and an easy confidence that was likely useful to him in a variety of situations. Still. For all that, he was a stranger with unclear intentions, and she saw no reason to treat him differently than any other unknown man she encountered. A cool wariness had served her well in the past, and would serve her well here. He was doubtless aware of his own charms without her assitance; that sort of man usually was.
When he spoke, her suspicions were rather confirmed. "Well, good day to you too, love. How may I be of service to you?"
--
He came with Agatha. She was coming to recruit her for a job, as usual; a few extra fighters out with the Watch. Nothing fancy, of course; you didn't hire a 17 year old foreign girl with a sword for anything delicate. But that wasn't a problem. Being useful was enough. He was next to impossible to read; tall, dashing - definitely aristocrat. His beard was neat, his clothes practical but expensive and well-cared for. Even so, he wasn't showy. His emotions were hard to guess at - at first, his face was a mask of polite professionalism. But as she talked with Agatha, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed... perhaps he was slightly amused? Regardless, he seemed to be listening closely from habit. Observant; good. There would be hope for this mission yet. Even if she'd have to fight uphill both ways, with his type.
He spoke up, just before they left. "Until we meet again, Miss Evans." He offered a slight bow, and turned away. She watched him go.
Fandom/original: original/game fic
Rating: G
A/N: The title was the prompt from
rougen.She was so small. That was the first thing he noticed. Her age aside, she was a tiny thing, all sharp angles. Even the slanting locks of dirty blond hair looked sharp. Her scowl was fierce enough to cut, small chin jutting out with defiance. She was... seven? Maybe eight. The longer he looked at her, the more he noticed; her blue eyes would probably be large when they weren't narrowed, and there was something about her that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Probably magical talent of some kind. It was rare, but would explain how she'd survived on her own that long. That, and pure stubbornness.
"Well?" she said, angrily. "Now what?'
--
She was not terribly impressed. It wasn't that he wasn't nice to look at; she had no doubt many women before her had, and many women after her would, appreciate the strong line of his slightly stubbled jaw, the lazy curve a smile that drew the eye. Good shoulders, to give him his due, and an easy confidence that was likely useful to him in a variety of situations. Still. For all that, he was a stranger with unclear intentions, and she saw no reason to treat him differently than any other unknown man she encountered. A cool wariness had served her well in the past, and would serve her well here. He was doubtless aware of his own charms without her assitance; that sort of man usually was.
When he spoke, her suspicions were rather confirmed. "Well, good day to you too, love. How may I be of service to you?"
--
He came with Agatha. She was coming to recruit her for a job, as usual; a few extra fighters out with the Watch. Nothing fancy, of course; you didn't hire a 17 year old foreign girl with a sword for anything delicate. But that wasn't a problem. Being useful was enough. He was next to impossible to read; tall, dashing - definitely aristocrat. His beard was neat, his clothes practical but expensive and well-cared for. Even so, he wasn't showy. His emotions were hard to guess at - at first, his face was a mask of polite professionalism. But as she talked with Agatha, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed... perhaps he was slightly amused? Regardless, he seemed to be listening closely from habit. Observant; good. There would be hope for this mission yet. Even if she'd have to fight uphill both ways, with his type.
He spoke up, just before they left. "Until we meet again, Miss Evans." He offered a slight bow, and turned away. She watched him go.