Dark emerald eyes stared into gentle pearl ones. The lighter of the two hues may have looking in one direction but they weren't truly taking in what was before them. A bitter silence ebbed from the two figures with a strange, tense delight. They could literally feel each others hearts pound in unison as the wordless conversation took place. Still, the two figures merely held themselves as it went on.
Suddenly the two moved. The woman blindfolded herself and not seconds later he had followed her actions. A single piece of cloth took everything away from them even though she had nothing left to be taken. However, this was their show of respect: they would be equal to one another while their dance would begin. A deadly but beautiful dance.
Completely blind and soundless the duo began to shift into their beginning stances. Bowing their heads to each other, they drew their weapons with a grim elegance and began.
It was slow at first but a carefully planned maneuver was starting to blossom. The man and woman took each step in a calculated way that would help them take this battle into their favor. The female shifted her head at the sound of his feet grazing the ground just as he listened for her to shift another way. It was only a matter of time as to who would make the first move. Seconds fluttered away like a butterfly that had been caged for far too long. Time no longer existed but really, had it before?
But like a hawk, he moved fiercely to strike. The steel of the two blades met and sung out in a sweet tune. The woman held her position as he pressed down onto her. The man may have been strong but she was nimble.
While holding the mans blade with her own she shifted enough to the left to get away. The man fell forwards slightly but caught himself with his foot. Using the same stance, he pivoted around and came face to face with the woman. Though quietly with swift elegance she struck. He may have been a pound of flesh but he proved himself to be quite quick. He moved slightly to the right and within a second she was face first in the dirt. A small smile turned his lips upright while she picked herself up off the ground. Secretly, she glared at him from behind her blindfold for nobody disgraced her and laughed about it. It was rude to say in the least. Though before he could finish smiling to himself, the woman was back for more. He had let his guard down long enough that it had left an open window for her to strike him. The cold steel met the dark sandy colored flesh of his arm and liquid rust seeped down like a waterfall. A smug smile no longer caressed his lips but rather a confused one. She was quick, far too quick for his tastes. Nevertheless a smile now touched her lips as the lovely lady enjoyed her moment of pride. Before long they had gone back to fighting. They both wanted to claim rights to ownership of the second wound but it proved difficult for the other wouldn't go down easily.
For a long while the two lashed out at one another. A few times the strikes would meet flesh but mostly steel. Every time the sword met it's kin they would sing together in a soprano-like way. It had been like this for a while now due to the simple fact that the two duelists didn't want to lose to the other. If one lost, the prize for the winner was death for the loser. A tough battle with a beautiful end, it was the terms of agreement for them. Still, their flesh was bloody and bruised while they huffed and puffed at the lack of energy. The only thing that made them continue was the pride and adrenaline, not to mention how much they valued their lives. They needed the other to be destroyed before they could officially end this battle.
An assassin and a thief are alike in some ways: they must be agile and quick to take what they want from someone. Sure, one can admit that thieves aren't as bad as assassins but when you get right down to it they are just as bad as the other. However, assassins do have somewhat of an upper hand.
The woman was contracted to get rid of him after he had stolen from the wrong person. The man knew of this hired killer and watched his back carefully. Considering this man was walking on edge with careful steps, she couldn't stab the knife in him like planned. So instead words were exchanged and the man proved himself to have a silver tongue. He convinced the assassin to take his life another way: through a duel.
Both were equal, both were skilled and deadly so why not settle it in a fair, interesting way? The woman found herself in a deal that she couldn't refuse. So here they were, breathless and becoming weaker by the moment. At this point she was beginning to reconsider her deal and even the contract itself. The two were obviously becoming very tired with the only thing fueling them was their will to live. But with one final burst of energy, both flew at one another and finished it once and for all. There would be no more games, no more dance, it was to be over with.
The woman held herself standing for a brief moment but couldn't due to the massive amount of blood loss and pain. Holding herself up for a few more seconds, she took her last breath and then fell to her knees. The steel of her blade met the ground with an echoing agony that rang throughout her head. Upon her leg she could feel a warmness begin to spread at an alarming rate. He had gotten her and it was evidently a deep wound. Was this it for her? Was she done forever? Little was this woman aware, his blade was now at the side of her neck. If he were to act quickly he would end it for the both of them. Deep in her heart she had accepted death and the coldness that it would bring. It brought her great satisfaction that she would belong to the Void forevermore and stay at Sithis' side. She was glad that it would be sooner rather than later...
However, all thoughts were cut short when she had felt the cloth around her eyes fall and brush the bareness of her leg. Blind eyes stared upward as he had removed the blindfold from his own eyes. He watched the woman and took in her pale form: long silvery white hair, pale skin, pale eyes. His green hues stayed upon her lips however. The way the deep red looked amongst the white, it had appeared like two perfect drops of blood on freshly fallen snow...so lovely in a tragic way. She was a slender, stiff looking woman. There was something about her that screamed "made of ice". She must have had no feelings other than the love for as fight...But then he noticed it: from her lifeless eyes formed what looked like a droplet and it rolled down her cheek. The ice queen was...crying? Gently he touched her surprisingly warm cheeks and brushed the tear away. From his lips, he murmured
"Do not waste your tears, Assassin, for you have won."
In a slow fall, he fell upon his knees while a grunt escaped his lips. Though the woman could not see the blood, she could smell the potent rust fill the air. Reaching her hand downwards to his side, she felt a wet warmness embrace her fingertips. She pulled him towards her and he gladly gave into her touch. For a moment she held him in hopes it would soothe him. An odd action for somebody who moments before wanted nothing more for their enemy other than their life taken. With sorrow in her heart, she said to him
"I do not shed tears without reason. I weep for you, Thief. I pray to the Night Mother that Sithis will be kind to you."
With nothing more to say, she only held him as his soul passed on. His green eyes bore into hers as she merely held his wound. A simple gesture made any parting easier. Silently she wept and a few tears fell upon his cheeks but with his last ounce of strength he brushed them from her eyes. In mere moments his soul was now at the mercy of Sithis and all she held was an empty shell. Still, she wept for his loss.
Pity for the enemy was tasteless, she knew this and was certain that he had felt the same way. Yet he had gone and wiped away the tears she had cried for him? She had felt betrayed yet comforted by these actions. Still, the cold tears fell from her eyes down onto the mans body. There was another flavour now, a confusing, strange one. For a brief moment she thought about it, wondered what it was.
It was sorrow and it had never left a sweeter taste upon her tongue.