So, it's my first Claymore fic. I've been wanting to write Claymore for ages, and this came to me the other day. I heart all The Slashers, so I'm glad to do ficcage of them.
I don't own Claymore, and please R&R! Concrit is loved!
Miria never expected to care this much. From the moment she saw those girls, she never thought that she'd be constantly dwelling on worries for their wellbeing. After striking down the last yoma of its pack, she'd have a fleeting thought of wonder.
"Would they'd be able to survive a fight like this?"
She always brushes off that thought as foolish. "Of course they'd be able to survive"
Miria is ashamed to admit, but the first time she saw those girls she had serious doubts. She had plenty of time to dwell on her first impressions of Helen and Deneve, being shut up in a dark room for a week, waiting for the fourth member of their Awakened Being hunting group.
She had no real doubts of Deneve; she seemed collected and strong, a great person to work with. Helen slightly worried her; her personality could get in the way and get them all killed. But she knew that they were all strong warriors, so far.
Clare did concern her. The first meeting between the two hadn't got them off on good terms, and neither did the second one. 'Bad timing, horribly weak…but what was that strength I felt before?'. Deneve and Helen started to look pretty good.
But she kept her opinions and qualms to herself.
Miria is not ashamed to admit, though, that the mission that they were assigned finished with amazing results. While she was disappointed at the deduction she had made about the organisation, Miria was thrilled at the strength of her comrades, although she wasn't good at showing it.
But she worried everyday for their wellbeing. She never expected to be so thoughtfully attached to the girls. Nor, did she expect to be so glad to get a message from Ermita, telling her to go to the land of Alphonse to lead an Awakened Being campaign, where 'some of her friends may be there'.
"All that worrying was for nothing" Miria would think, as she marched into the town of Pieta, laying eyes on the familiar faces of the rest of The Slashers.