Fics like Shifting Sand

The first time Siya says it she is, in her defense, concussed. The young woman is pale and dark-eyed, with a sharply elegant face, soft like a falcon. She wears her black hair cut short; in the Empire—and this girl is high-blood Imperial stock or Siya will eat her shield—a distinctly masculine style. A masculine style that doesn’t mirror her delicate features, the unique femininized styling of her surcoat, the sweep of demure bangs left deliberately long as she tucks them behind one ear. “You’re fine,” she determines, not unkindly. Then, by way of explanation, she hefts a devastating mamluke mace that has to have been hollowed out with cork for the tournament or it would have caved Siya’s skull in. Helmet or no. "Glad I didn’t hit you that hard.” Siya, like any self-respecting woman, replies: “Marry me?” (Or: Five times an upjumped mercenary proposed to the Empress' only daughter as a joke. And one time she didn't.)

Fics like Shifting Sand

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