Aymeric is not expecting victory to be easy - in fact he, like Estinien, is half expecting defeat to come swiftly. He's fairly sure some of the watching knights are expecting that too.
He's determined, though, and stubborn, and that seems to count for something - he refuses to give up, until the world narrows down to only the two of them, the watching crowd fades away and there's nothing but the ringing clash of sword against lance and the mingled sound of their breaths coming heavier and heavier as the match continues.
Eventually, though, the strain of it gets to him, a slightly fumbled swing. He might have gotten away with it against a lesser opponent but of course Estinien jumps upon the opening without hesitation, and in what seems like moments his sword is lost and he's on his back with the tip of Estinien's lance just pressing into his neck - enough for him to feel its presence, but not enough to be painful or draw blood.
It is, he thinks, staring up at Estinien's silvery eyes, shockingly hot.
He doesn't even have the energy to feel bad about thinking that.
He smiles ruefully, taking the offered hand and pulling himself to his feet. He's already intending on asking for a rematch anyway when Estinien, flatteringly, is the first one to say it. His smile becomes a little more pleased, despite the loss, and he nods.
"Five days." he agrees - he'd want sooner, in truth, but he could take the time to prepare.
"And in the meantime, your questions." He says easily, moving to retrieve his dropped sword and sheathe it "Now, if you like, or once we've both had opportunity to catch our breath."
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timeasmymeasure
No it's perfect <3
Date: 2024-04-09 11:18 pm (UTC)Aymeric is not expecting victory to be easy - in fact he, like Estinien, is half expecting defeat to come swiftly. He's fairly sure some of the watching knights are expecting that too.
He's determined, though, and stubborn, and that seems to count for something - he refuses to give up, until the world narrows down to only the two of them, the watching crowd fades away and there's nothing but the ringing clash of sword against lance and the mingled sound of their breaths coming heavier and heavier as the match continues.
Eventually, though, the strain of it gets to him, a slightly fumbled swing. He might have gotten away with it against a lesser opponent but of course Estinien jumps upon the opening without hesitation, and in what seems like moments his sword is lost and he's on his back with the tip of Estinien's lance just pressing into his neck - enough for him to feel its presence, but not enough to be painful or draw blood.
It is, he thinks, staring up at Estinien's silvery eyes, shockingly hot.
He doesn't even have the energy to feel bad about thinking that.
He smiles ruefully, taking the offered hand and pulling himself to his feet. He's already intending on asking for a rematch anyway when Estinien, flatteringly, is the first one to say it. His smile becomes a little more pleased, despite the loss, and he nods.
"Five days." he agrees - he'd want sooner, in truth, but he could take the time to prepare.
"And in the meantime, your questions." He says easily, moving to retrieve his dropped sword and sheathe it "Now, if you like, or once we've both had opportunity to catch our breath."