Short, but sweet.
Aleyda Aeducan, ladies (and gentlemen?)
Previous disclaimers apply.
Just Right
You wouldn't understand.
Back when she'd been a noble, her second had asked her why she didn't want to wear the ceremonial armor; crafted by the finest smith's, and handed down to her by her grandmother. She'd said that he wouldn't understand, and he probably wouldn't have.
After all, she didn't understand it, herself.
There was something about that armor, older than herself. It chafed slightly, more on her nerves than by fitting wrong. Even so, she would not have been able to tell you why.
Until she saw it.
The perfect armor.
It was battered, sturdy and serviceable rather than strong and noble; and it was perfect.
She spent every last sovereign she had to get the set, and still had to sell some surplus items. (she gladly let go of a dagger with shiny gold trim) When she finally put it on, it was like magic, or as close to magic as a dwarf could ever get. Leather straps tightened, she hefted her maul, and smiled.
"I'm ready," she said to Leliana. "Let's head out."
"Are you certain?" She was asked. "It's rather…ah…"
Aleyda shrugged. "I know," she said. "But it's mine."
She stopped trying to figure out what she'd hated about her grandmothers armor.
It's odd, this one came out a lot easier than Inir. Maybe Aleyda isn't quite so annoying? Or perhaps she's a simple soul. Ah, well. Review, please!