a little less conversation | feynriel & asher
exiledforrester:
Asher had been sharpening his blade when he heard Feynriel approaching. He stopped and smiled, waiting for him to get closer. “Are you sure you want the entire kingdom of the Riverlands to see you get beaten?” he teased, already unlacing the leather top he was wearing and tossing it aside. Of course their sparring was usually different. It was less with swords and weapons, and more hand to hand combat.
“Feyn,” he said gently, lovingly, before grabbing him by the arms and spinning him around. Asher moved them into the sparring ground, already pinning him against the makeshift wall. There weren’t many people around yet, but a few of the men in the camp had stopped what they were doing to watch what was taking place.
“Strong words coming from someone that tends to be on theiir back more often than not.” Feynriel drawled, a grin plastered prominently on his face as he watched Asher with feigned disinterest as he removed his top. Feynriel made no attempt to cover up the once over he gave him, allowing himself to be pulled into the sparring grounds. “Love, there are people watching... Why don’t we give them a show.” He grinned teasingly once he felt his back press to the wall. Asher’s hands were firm against his arms, Feynriel’s lips were a breath away from Asher’s. Just before they had met Feynriel went limp, twisting himself out of his grasp as he braced himself and used the wall as leverage to launch themselves forward. The momentum giving Feynriel enough to push Asher to the ground and with his feet planted on his chest, Feynriel rolled and with practiced effort, kicked his partner away from him before standing up once more, readying his stance as he looked over at Asher, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Come now we can’t lie about all day.”
