Title: "Something Out of Nothing"
Author: monimala
Fandom: POTC:DMC
Rating/Classification: SAC, Norrington/Anamaria, ficlet, futurefic.
Disclaimer: The Mouse owns all, including my soul.
Summary: A loose prequel/sequel to A Darker Destiny Besides. 335 words. He has become proficient.
The ax falls, rhythmically, into the wood. Thud. Thud. Thud. His arms ripple with the power of each blow and the kindling splits into two perfect pieces each time. He has become proficient in this, as with so many other menial tasks he had once left to servants and underlings. He is stripped to the waist and the sun on his back is no longer cruel, not the least bit scorching, but actually a comfort. Like a lover's touch, bringing him low and drenching him in sweat. *Almost* like a lover's touch, he amends with a note of bemusement as skirts swish and bare brown feet kick up the earth with each nearing step.
Anamaria laughs, gently, in his ear, closing her arms around him and stilling the motion of the blade. "You're gettin' mighty good at that, James," she chuckles, aligning her lush body to his...as always, his siren and his mast. "We might be makin' a man outta you yet."
"I'll make a woman of you first," he counters, burying the ax in the stump with one swing and turning in her embrace. "No...no, I daresay I'll make a *bride* of you first."
He's already begun his campaign...divesting her of breeches and boots and wooing her into gowns with whispers of encouragement against her silken thigh and the dusty curve of her instep. He loves the contrast, the play of crisp white linen against her dark skin...and though he'd relish the sight of her bosom rising over a tight bodice, caught tight by corset strings, he knows better now than to bind her thus.
*I can't breathe*.
Ana breathes free, her air a bittersweet caress against his throat. "Just try it, Commodore," she warns, slender fingers grasping his length through his trousers and stroking. "You can't make somet'ing of nothin', you hear?"
"Neither can you, dear Ana," he sighs into her mouth. "Neither can you."
He falls rhythmically into her...and they split into two perfect pieces each time.
--end--
July 18, 2006.