I haven't written any fiction of substantial length for ages, and then suddenly wrote four pages of GW2 fic today. It's a pro patria AU in which a totally different character is the proto-Pact Commander and Althea is a random Lightbringer:

Gwen Velazquez regretted many things about her time among the Bloodcrow bandits. Robbing aristocrats was not one of them. 

It wasn’t hard, between her flair for illusions and the way their gazes flitted past the struggling poor among them. What was one more overworked servant to a noble? She’d disliked them for years before that, as long as she could remember—disliked their indifference to the suffering around them, disliked their cushion of wealth and greed for more, disliked the way they hoarded so much of Kryta’s land that after two centuries in this country, nearly all her people were still crowded into two cramped districts and one distant settlement. A year of close proximity to them, keeping watch for the Bloodcrow gang and seizing opportunities, had only deepened her dislike to quiet hatred.

Except for the charr, she loathed no one more. And her parents had died fighting for Ebonhawke.

[...]

“Who was that?” Gwen asked Tybalt in a low voice. “The woman who was here?”

“You’ve got a good eye,” he said, and even the low growl of the charr sounded somehow amiable.

Gwen frowned.

“A new Lightbringer,” he said. “Althea’s the name. You’ll probably work with her sooner or later—you’ve got some important things in common.”

Her scowl deepened. “I doubt that.”

I put together eight pages of my dissertation, so I rewarded myself with more GW2 Gwen/Althea fic with proto-Commander!Gwen/AU Althea:

Gwen had always had an eye for fine things. She tried not to look too obviously covetous and approached with Tybalt.

“Lightbringer Tybalt,” said Lady Althea, with a peculiar mix of deference and coldness. “Lady Demmi was just telling me of your successes, and Agent Gwen’s.”

“Tybalt will do, Lightbringer,” he said mildly. Gwen suspected he’d mentioned it before, but maybe Althea wasn’t used to her status. At least not her status in the Order.

Lady Althea straightened a little, though her full height wasn’t much, least of all before a charr. Now her expression revealed nothing but faint hauteur. Gwen had seen the expression countless times before—on different faces, but that didn’t matter much. Noble arrogance was noble arrogance.

“Of course,” said Althea. She cleared her throat. “Tybalt.”