At eleven years old, it seemed obvious to Will that Devin had her father's
free spirit. She seemed fairly obstinate about doing chores, though they
were done eventually. When Devin would finish with her chores, she would
find the younger Will, usually with his father, practicing fencing. She
watched their footwork, and admired the way the blades sounded when struck
against. She watched until she was called by her foster mother, Estrella,
to get ready for dinner.
Even though she was now part of Estrella's family, Devin would eat with the Turner's, though she would help her foster mother take the dishes into the kitchen and wash them. It was not a favorite pastime, but she was rewarded when Estrella read to her before bed. She loved fantasy best of all. She longed for the ability to go on extraordinary adventures, like the princess's always did.
Devin had a knack for learning, and when she had no chores to do, she would sit with Will and Aria's schoolbooks and read them when they were not around. She also hung around the room that Mr. William Turner had made the fencing room. She did footwork before the father and son came into the room for three hours for six days a week. She heard stories from Mr. Turner that practicing three hours a day saved his life when first battling Captain Jack Sparrow. Devin laughed at the story, and wondered if her father had done the same to be that good.
One day, while Devin was in the fencing room, Master Will Turner had entered almost an hour before he was due to arrive that day. He watched her advance and retreat, lunge here and there, and parry, then riposte in the quarte and octave lines, making a complete circle.
"Perhaps you would like a challenge?" Will said. He was twelve now, and very arrogant, since he was the governor's oldest grandchild, loved by all. Expert swordsman he claimed himself to be. Devin smiled.
"Surely, you would think a commoner like myself would be too little for you, Master Turner," Devin replied.
"No challenge is too little for me," he replied. He threw her the garments she would need. When she was dressed, he handed her a foil. When they were both ready, he said, "begin." In one line they moved forward and backward, keeping the distance close, but not too close. "You have taken much in, I see," he spoke as he recovered from a short lunge. Devin did not speak. "However, you did not see this." With that, he took her blade up high in a prime (A/N: pronounced "preem") and hit her in the stomach. He took his mask off and saluted. "I believe I am the victor of this match." Devin gave him a withering look, for the tone in which he used was the most arrogant yet. He undid his garments and walked out of the room, with Devin fuming.
It was weeks before she dared go back to the fencing room when he was in there. Mr. Turner seemed to take notice of it. While disengaging each of his son's blade movements, he spoke with her.
"I see it's been awhile since you've been here," he said. Devin nodded coldly, her eyes on the younger Will, watching his every move. "I'm glad to see you back. It was getting lonely without you here." He gave her a grin that she could not see. Still, it did not matter, for she seemed not to notice him at all. Only until Mrs. Turner came in, did her gaze leave Master Will.
"I believe Estrella is calling you," she said sympathetically. Devin sighed and bid them all a good day.
Back in the kitchen, Estrella's charge was getting out of control, and, therefore, her temper was very short. "I've been calling you for an hour now, child," she yelled, washing the morning's dishes with a wet rag. "Don't forget to get the laundry now! And after that, I need some more rice for dinner. The money is in the laundry room!" Devin made her way down to the laundry room, very much annoyed. Was it her fault that up in the fencing room she couldn't hear her yelling from the kitchen? The voice inside her head was giving her an answer, but she didn't want to hear it.
As she got the laundry, her thoughts continued raging. Who did she think she was? Her mother? No, her mother was gone, now. She'd been gone for ten years now. And then, for what seemed like the millionth time, she thought about her father, and where he might be right now, and where he was headed off too.
A/N: So, what do you think? I'm hoping this goes well, because to me, the storyline is really good, now it depends on my writing ability. Next chapter up soon. As always, read and review! Thanks!
~GypsySwordGodess
Even though she was now part of Estrella's family, Devin would eat with the Turner's, though she would help her foster mother take the dishes into the kitchen and wash them. It was not a favorite pastime, but she was rewarded when Estrella read to her before bed. She loved fantasy best of all. She longed for the ability to go on extraordinary adventures, like the princess's always did.
Devin had a knack for learning, and when she had no chores to do, she would sit with Will and Aria's schoolbooks and read them when they were not around. She also hung around the room that Mr. William Turner had made the fencing room. She did footwork before the father and son came into the room for three hours for six days a week. She heard stories from Mr. Turner that practicing three hours a day saved his life when first battling Captain Jack Sparrow. Devin laughed at the story, and wondered if her father had done the same to be that good.
One day, while Devin was in the fencing room, Master Will Turner had entered almost an hour before he was due to arrive that day. He watched her advance and retreat, lunge here and there, and parry, then riposte in the quarte and octave lines, making a complete circle.
"Perhaps you would like a challenge?" Will said. He was twelve now, and very arrogant, since he was the governor's oldest grandchild, loved by all. Expert swordsman he claimed himself to be. Devin smiled.
"Surely, you would think a commoner like myself would be too little for you, Master Turner," Devin replied.
"No challenge is too little for me," he replied. He threw her the garments she would need. When she was dressed, he handed her a foil. When they were both ready, he said, "begin." In one line they moved forward and backward, keeping the distance close, but not too close. "You have taken much in, I see," he spoke as he recovered from a short lunge. Devin did not speak. "However, you did not see this." With that, he took her blade up high in a prime (A/N: pronounced "preem") and hit her in the stomach. He took his mask off and saluted. "I believe I am the victor of this match." Devin gave him a withering look, for the tone in which he used was the most arrogant yet. He undid his garments and walked out of the room, with Devin fuming.
It was weeks before she dared go back to the fencing room when he was in there. Mr. Turner seemed to take notice of it. While disengaging each of his son's blade movements, he spoke with her.
"I see it's been awhile since you've been here," he said. Devin nodded coldly, her eyes on the younger Will, watching his every move. "I'm glad to see you back. It was getting lonely without you here." He gave her a grin that she could not see. Still, it did not matter, for she seemed not to notice him at all. Only until Mrs. Turner came in, did her gaze leave Master Will.
"I believe Estrella is calling you," she said sympathetically. Devin sighed and bid them all a good day.
Back in the kitchen, Estrella's charge was getting out of control, and, therefore, her temper was very short. "I've been calling you for an hour now, child," she yelled, washing the morning's dishes with a wet rag. "Don't forget to get the laundry now! And after that, I need some more rice for dinner. The money is in the laundry room!" Devin made her way down to the laundry room, very much annoyed. Was it her fault that up in the fencing room she couldn't hear her yelling from the kitchen? The voice inside her head was giving her an answer, but she didn't want to hear it.
As she got the laundry, her thoughts continued raging. Who did she think she was? Her mother? No, her mother was gone, now. She'd been gone for ten years now. And then, for what seemed like the millionth time, she thought about her father, and where he might be right now, and where he was headed off too.
A/N: So, what do you think? I'm hoping this goes well, because to me, the storyline is really good, now it depends on my writing ability. Next chapter up soon. As always, read and review! Thanks!
~GypsySwordGodess