Hello pirate readers! I know it's been a long while since I last posted,
but I promise I'll update more! This chapter took me a long time to do, so
please b kind, R&R! Now back to Amera's duel! Enjoy!!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The moon shone through the grey clouds that night as the entire crew stood out on deck, in a gigantic circle, waiting for the duel to commence. Amera was tying her hair back with a dirty blue scarf. Just then, the green-eyed man who had helped her and the protesting pirates walked up to her.
"Amera, I know that you're an exquisite swordsmen, but Captain Archer has been fighting for years, decades even! Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Amera finished readying her sword and finally looked at him.
"I am doing this for us, all of us. I'm so sick and tired of his shit, and I won't take anymore it from him! Once he's dead mate, I don't care who the new captain will be," They looked over at the other side of the circle, at Archer who was sharpening his sword with a grin. Then the green-eyed man looked over at Amera again. "It just can't be him."
The man knew he couldn't change her mind. He set his hand gently on Amera's shoulder, and she looked up into his dark face. "Good luck Knightly." And with that, he backed away, leaving Amera on the opposite end of the circle, facing the captain.
Archer stood there, in the pale moonlight, his blade glistening with the dew in the air. His arm was pulsing, in rhythm with his quickening heart, preparing for battle. He reached a hand up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, keeping his eye on his blade (using it as a mirror) to watch Amera without ceasing.
Then suddenly, he leapt forward, deciding it was more dangerous to wait for Amera. He was intimidated by her, but his adrenaline made him strangely alert. His blade came over head, a fending kent-cut. He came down over her head. He saw her flinch and her sword came up to meet his. They clanged a sound that could have silenced the oceans, two titans fighting for pride and for glory.
As she re-directed his blow, their eyes locked: pure hatred flowed between them, thick enough to be cut by their blades. She sliced at his leg, to immobilize him, but he was too fast for her. With rapid reflexes, he averted the shot and made a gash in left arm, the blood flowing steadily. The pain made her vigilant, and she made a stab for his heart: she missed, but narrowly avoided his next blow.
He came up to her and used his might to pin her to the edge of the ship: He had her. He leaned in. "The tides have turned princess: traitors burn in the ninth layer of Hell." He then looked into her cold eyes, "Remember me as you lay dying."
He backed up, but before he knew it she had kicked the blade out of his hand, and it went up into the air, then came down and she caught it in her own: Two swords to one.
He leaned to his left and grabbed a plank. She made a dive with both swords flying, attacking his head. She came down and he caught both blades in the wood. She struggled to get them out, but Archer had already gotten his sword back. He threw the plank at her, and hit her in the gut. Hard. She winced, and felt herself cough up a little blood. She felt like this was the end.
He readied his sword. "A woman has no place in a duel!" He told her as he lined up his heart with her heart.
The crew was on the edge, they were panicking. Andrew held his guitar tightly, and the green-eyed man felt the fear that Amera did.
She was against the edge of the ship now. He began to charge. She felt her life flash before her eyes, but just as he had struck her, she felt a tiny bit of strength. "Prepare to die, you bastard!" And with that, she used his momentum to skewer him with her sword. She flipped him over her head and off the ship, some of his blood landing on her face. He fell with a scream, and with a final splash, Archer was dead.
The crew cheered and shouted as they ran over to her. Everyone was in high spirits, even the captain's loyal guards were very impressed. Then, one of the pirates yelled out, "Drinks all around! Lets bring out the rum!" Men began to get out the barrels and mugs, and Andrew was the musical entertainment for the night. The merry pirates danced and drank, happy that they now had Archer out of their way.
~*~*~* A little while later...
"Here Knightly, sit down. You can rest in Archer's room tonight. You deserve it. But first I'll help clean you up." The green-eyed man said as he got a few rags out as he and Amera sat in the captain's room. He dabbed a rag in a bucket of water as Amera rolled up her left sleeve. Every movement she made as she did so, the pain filled her mind.
The man then began to clean her wound, but was very gentle. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, as Amera watched him. Curiously, she asked him, "How long have you been on this ship?" He didn't stop cleaning her and replied, "About two months, I used to be on the Phantom, but then I switched to this ship. I didn't realize when I came aboard that Archer was an imbecile."
Amera laughed a little at him, finding the man charming. He was very attractive. His dark wavy hair almost went to his shoulders, and he was very tan and ripped, but not big like most of the pirates on the Avenger. He seemed to be almost thirty. As Amera admired his body, the man spoke, "You're bleeding a little on your back." She straightened up a little. "What? Oh." She came out of her dreams and back into reality. The two thought for a minute, not sure what to do about her cut back.
Then Amera decided to be bold and said, "It's alright, I'll take off my shirt." But the man protested, "No, I don't need you to do that. You could clean it up, I'll leave." He began to get up, but her voice stopped him. "Wait," he turned around and looked into Amera's beautiful face. "I can't reach my upper back green eyes. Come, sit down."
He turned back around and sat on the edge of the bed, next to her. Amera turned her back to him and began to lift up her shirt. She winced a little from the pain, but soon she threw her once white blouse on the ground.
Amera waited for him to put the rag on her back, but he didn't. She sat there a moment, not daring to say a word. The man was admiring Amera's smooth back. She had a beautiful figure, it seemed almost flawless besides the blood stains. She was somewhat tan, and every inch of her skin was shaped to perfection. Then, the man finally soothingly put the rag on her back, cleaning the cuts she had.
His other had held her shoulder, he had such a soft hand. Amera loved being touched this way, she hadn't been since...well...you know what happened (Tomb of Lost Pirates). Then, Amera realized something she hadn't asked him. "Since you already know who I am mate, tell me, what's your name?"
The green-eyed man was silent, so, Amera turned around a little, meeting with his eyes. He had such a handsome face, and she couldn't help but gaze. Then, speaking softly but firmly, the man said, "Torin." He then picked up some of the clean white cloth and tied it around Amera's hurt arm. Then, he slid his hand across Amera's back.
"Your cuts are small. There already closed. You will be able to fight and be active tomorrow." Then, he looked up, finally noticing that Amera was staring at him. She then turned her whole body around and got close to Torin. "How about sooner?" He was silent.
Amera brought he body close enough to where her warm chest stroked his. There was fire in her eyes, and she yearned to be closer to him. Torin became very nervous. He HAD had many women before, but not any that were so forward and strong. As brave as he was, and as smart as he seemed, he had no idea what to say or even what to think.
Then, without warning, Amera picked up her soft slender hand and placed it on Torin's neck. She never once looked away from his eyes, and now they had no room between them. Their lips crept close, and in one quick moment, their lips met. Torin suddenly felt whole, he didn't feel so nervous; so he brought his arms around her, taking her into his arms.
They kept the kiss going, and Amera knew she wanted him more than anything. And as they kissed they fell over onto the bed, going on into the night, filling it with their passion.
~*~*~* Back to three months later...
Jack sat on the merchant ship, in the spice room behind the bags and barrels. As sleep came to him, he thought only of the love that he foolishly lost.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The moon shone through the grey clouds that night as the entire crew stood out on deck, in a gigantic circle, waiting for the duel to commence. Amera was tying her hair back with a dirty blue scarf. Just then, the green-eyed man who had helped her and the protesting pirates walked up to her.
"Amera, I know that you're an exquisite swordsmen, but Captain Archer has been fighting for years, decades even! Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Amera finished readying her sword and finally looked at him.
"I am doing this for us, all of us. I'm so sick and tired of his shit, and I won't take anymore it from him! Once he's dead mate, I don't care who the new captain will be," They looked over at the other side of the circle, at Archer who was sharpening his sword with a grin. Then the green-eyed man looked over at Amera again. "It just can't be him."
The man knew he couldn't change her mind. He set his hand gently on Amera's shoulder, and she looked up into his dark face. "Good luck Knightly." And with that, he backed away, leaving Amera on the opposite end of the circle, facing the captain.
Archer stood there, in the pale moonlight, his blade glistening with the dew in the air. His arm was pulsing, in rhythm with his quickening heart, preparing for battle. He reached a hand up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, keeping his eye on his blade (using it as a mirror) to watch Amera without ceasing.
Then suddenly, he leapt forward, deciding it was more dangerous to wait for Amera. He was intimidated by her, but his adrenaline made him strangely alert. His blade came over head, a fending kent-cut. He came down over her head. He saw her flinch and her sword came up to meet his. They clanged a sound that could have silenced the oceans, two titans fighting for pride and for glory.
As she re-directed his blow, their eyes locked: pure hatred flowed between them, thick enough to be cut by their blades. She sliced at his leg, to immobilize him, but he was too fast for her. With rapid reflexes, he averted the shot and made a gash in left arm, the blood flowing steadily. The pain made her vigilant, and she made a stab for his heart: she missed, but narrowly avoided his next blow.
He came up to her and used his might to pin her to the edge of the ship: He had her. He leaned in. "The tides have turned princess: traitors burn in the ninth layer of Hell." He then looked into her cold eyes, "Remember me as you lay dying."
He backed up, but before he knew it she had kicked the blade out of his hand, and it went up into the air, then came down and she caught it in her own: Two swords to one.
He leaned to his left and grabbed a plank. She made a dive with both swords flying, attacking his head. She came down and he caught both blades in the wood. She struggled to get them out, but Archer had already gotten his sword back. He threw the plank at her, and hit her in the gut. Hard. She winced, and felt herself cough up a little blood. She felt like this was the end.
He readied his sword. "A woman has no place in a duel!" He told her as he lined up his heart with her heart.
The crew was on the edge, they were panicking. Andrew held his guitar tightly, and the green-eyed man felt the fear that Amera did.
She was against the edge of the ship now. He began to charge. She felt her life flash before her eyes, but just as he had struck her, she felt a tiny bit of strength. "Prepare to die, you bastard!" And with that, she used his momentum to skewer him with her sword. She flipped him over her head and off the ship, some of his blood landing on her face. He fell with a scream, and with a final splash, Archer was dead.
The crew cheered and shouted as they ran over to her. Everyone was in high spirits, even the captain's loyal guards were very impressed. Then, one of the pirates yelled out, "Drinks all around! Lets bring out the rum!" Men began to get out the barrels and mugs, and Andrew was the musical entertainment for the night. The merry pirates danced and drank, happy that they now had Archer out of their way.
~*~*~* A little while later...
"Here Knightly, sit down. You can rest in Archer's room tonight. You deserve it. But first I'll help clean you up." The green-eyed man said as he got a few rags out as he and Amera sat in the captain's room. He dabbed a rag in a bucket of water as Amera rolled up her left sleeve. Every movement she made as she did so, the pain filled her mind.
The man then began to clean her wound, but was very gentle. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, as Amera watched him. Curiously, she asked him, "How long have you been on this ship?" He didn't stop cleaning her and replied, "About two months, I used to be on the Phantom, but then I switched to this ship. I didn't realize when I came aboard that Archer was an imbecile."
Amera laughed a little at him, finding the man charming. He was very attractive. His dark wavy hair almost went to his shoulders, and he was very tan and ripped, but not big like most of the pirates on the Avenger. He seemed to be almost thirty. As Amera admired his body, the man spoke, "You're bleeding a little on your back." She straightened up a little. "What? Oh." She came out of her dreams and back into reality. The two thought for a minute, not sure what to do about her cut back.
Then Amera decided to be bold and said, "It's alright, I'll take off my shirt." But the man protested, "No, I don't need you to do that. You could clean it up, I'll leave." He began to get up, but her voice stopped him. "Wait," he turned around and looked into Amera's beautiful face. "I can't reach my upper back green eyes. Come, sit down."
He turned back around and sat on the edge of the bed, next to her. Amera turned her back to him and began to lift up her shirt. She winced a little from the pain, but soon she threw her once white blouse on the ground.
Amera waited for him to put the rag on her back, but he didn't. She sat there a moment, not daring to say a word. The man was admiring Amera's smooth back. She had a beautiful figure, it seemed almost flawless besides the blood stains. She was somewhat tan, and every inch of her skin was shaped to perfection. Then, the man finally soothingly put the rag on her back, cleaning the cuts she had.
His other had held her shoulder, he had such a soft hand. Amera loved being touched this way, she hadn't been since...well...you know what happened (Tomb of Lost Pirates). Then, Amera realized something she hadn't asked him. "Since you already know who I am mate, tell me, what's your name?"
The green-eyed man was silent, so, Amera turned around a little, meeting with his eyes. He had such a handsome face, and she couldn't help but gaze. Then, speaking softly but firmly, the man said, "Torin." He then picked up some of the clean white cloth and tied it around Amera's hurt arm. Then, he slid his hand across Amera's back.
"Your cuts are small. There already closed. You will be able to fight and be active tomorrow." Then, he looked up, finally noticing that Amera was staring at him. She then turned her whole body around and got close to Torin. "How about sooner?" He was silent.
Amera brought he body close enough to where her warm chest stroked his. There was fire in her eyes, and she yearned to be closer to him. Torin became very nervous. He HAD had many women before, but not any that were so forward and strong. As brave as he was, and as smart as he seemed, he had no idea what to say or even what to think.
Then, without warning, Amera picked up her soft slender hand and placed it on Torin's neck. She never once looked away from his eyes, and now they had no room between them. Their lips crept close, and in one quick moment, their lips met. Torin suddenly felt whole, he didn't feel so nervous; so he brought his arms around her, taking her into his arms.
They kept the kiss going, and Amera knew she wanted him more than anything. And as they kissed they fell over onto the bed, going on into the night, filling it with their passion.
~*~*~* Back to three months later...
Jack sat on the merchant ship, in the spice room behind the bags and barrels. As sleep came to him, he thought only of the love that he foolishly lost.