Hello! Courtesy of another Pinterest writing prompt (because really, where else am I going to see one), here's the gist for this one: Write a character's description twice, once to hate them, and once to love them.
Giovanna knelt beside the river and drew her sword, placing it upon a large slab of rock that jutted over the water. Her hair, dyed ink-black to disguise the natural red, tumbled over her shoulder. The image of her youngest sister Jubilee flashed in her mind. Standing side by side now, they would for once look like real sisters. Giovanna shook her head to clear it. Cupping her hand, she poured water of the rock and then carefully, methodically, drew the length of the sword across the stone. The rough surface beneath the blade sent vibrations up the metal, making her fingers tingle in a familiar way. The Captain of the Guard had been the first to place a sword in her hands at the tender age of seven, when her other sisters were playing with dolls or learning embroidery. The Captain had shown her everything about using a sword, and keeping it war-ready, including how to sharpen it on a whetstone. Perhaps the Captain knew the princess would lead armies one day. But neither of them could have presumed she would be leading them against her own family.
Giovanna turned the blade over to tend to the other side. In mere moments her fate had been snatched away from her, ruined by a spoiled brat who never thought about anyone but herself, never considered the consequences of her own actions. Giovanna winced at the memory of the wave from Styx hitting her face, burning her flesh like acid. Her hand moved to her cheek, as if to make sure the repaired skin had not melted away. She would not let her inexperienced, ill-advised little sister be the downfall of the treaty with the god of the Underworld and of the uprising so carefully executed.
Jubilee would not ruin what Giovanna had slaved for. The seventh daughter, perfect little Jubilee, had to die.
The thunder in the sky could not equal the clash of swords in the castle walls. And no storm nor hurricane nor earthquake could match the brute force of brother fighting brother, mortal versus god, soldier versus citizen.
Surrounded on every side, Giovanna drew upon every ounce of strength she had left, knowing it was not enough and yet some force insider her driving her onward. Her gift, her power, the raw element of fire that bent to her will, was gone from her. Without it, even with sword in hand, her hands were cold and shaking. A man near her threw a spear at an opponent's back. Giovanna deflected it, unsure who was her foe or ally anymore. A man without armor crumbled under the shock of Marcus' whip laced around his neck. Without a thought, Giovanna crept up behind Marcus. His defeat was less than a breath. Rain continued to pour, swords continued to clash, and then above it all, the distinctive crack of a different whip severed the air. Giovanna spun around, looking for the familiar figure attached to that whip.
There. By the stables. Lucy stood over someone, her weapon of choice coiled like a snake at her side. Giovanna stumbled toward her and then froze when she saw who Lucy was towering over.
Jubilee.
Her fist tightened around the hilt of the sword, her cold fingers finding strength in the familiar shape in her palm.
Lucy flicked her wrist and her whip curled to life. "You were never meant to live anyway." She raise her arm. The whip came like a lash through the air.
Giovanna threw her shoulder into Lucy's back and caught the whip's tail around her sword. Jubilee rolled to the side and grabbed a pitchfork that had fallen over. Brandishing the pitchfork, Jubilee turned first to Giovanna, then to Lucy, who had quickly found her footing again. Jubilee's soft blue eyes burned with indecision.
"Traitor!" Lucy seethed. She tried to yank her whip away, but Giovanna turned her shoulder into the movement and disarmed the woman.
"I know who I'm fighting for now," said Giovanna, with a quick glance toward Jubilee.
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