her majesty's champion.

      ❛ you’re not lying to me… are you? ❜

                                                                    the price she would have to pay to give a reply is too high  –  the back of her neck tastes like sweat  &&  salt  &&  HER,       &&  asha wouldn’t pull her lips from it for the world.

                                                                                                                              a hand moves to sweep flyaway hair away from the nape of her neck  &&  replace it with her lips,        hungry  &&  greedy as they press to her skin.       once the silken strands are out of the way of her searching mouth,         the hand moves down,         calloused but  GENTLE  digits trailing over her cheekbone  &&  coming to rest curled just below her jaw.       the bruises there are fading,      turning yellow-green at the edges.          she would remedy that  –  her teeth found flesh then,    gently  NIPPING  at a place just behind her ear.      &&  then the other hand slips around her waist,      drifting over her hips to rest just where her body flared outward.  

                                         ‘ yeah, i’m here to help you all right,  ‘    came her  LATE  reply,     lips brushing the shell of the amazon’s ear.         ‘  the blades will wait.     I  however,     am less  PATIENT.  ‘

       SHE  resists for only a moment before, placing the blade to the floor,           head craning to catch her lovers’ lips in a gentle embrace before pushing           herself to her feet. both arms instinctivly latch around the ironborn’s form,           fingertips DIGGING into the leather armor layered across her spine. there           is but a slight hesitation in her kiss, thoughts of the crew that worked just           outside the wooden cabin door, toiling just as she had been doing. but the           woman’s ferocious presence soothes her, fingers tangling in jet black hair           only to force her lovers’ head back. the amazon reciprocates the sting of             each gentle bite, drawing her tongue over the wounds to momentaily sooth them.

         ❝      HOW greedy you are. if you’re to rope me into this, you will                          help me sharpen the rest of these before dusk ----    ❞

         HER words come in intervals, broken up by the crackling nose of her lips          pulling back from asha’s newly bruised throat. both hands pull at the individual          strings holding the bronze and leather armor together at a familiar pace before          she meets’ the ironborn’s lips again. her voice now more commanding and made         gravely with lust, she brushes both lips against the woman’s ear, ensuring she          cannot stray from her presence.

        SPARKS  roll from the tip of her blade onto the concrete, the air            surrounding her warmed by the friction as it grinds against the            whetstone in front of her. her free hand gently rolls the hilt, shifting            the swords position to adequitely service both edges. stopping for            a moment to wipe the sweat from her neck, she soon resumes            until the sensation of familiar lips cross the nape of her neck. lips            curl into a humbled smile, head rolling to the left, exposing more            already bruised flesh to the woman at her side, the stone gently            rolling to a halt.

                    by the time their bodies find the floor,     a peach flush has been raised across asha’s high cheekbones  &&  extending downward over her chest.       invisible bruises dappled her wind-chapped skin,        but she knew that they would rise to the surface in dark purples  &&  blues after the fight was over.        it took a long time for andromeda’s blows to weaken,       slow,     &&  eventually yield to the kraken’s attacks,       but eventually the ironwoman had the other beneath her,     pinning her to the floor with a knee between her thighs  &&  two hands wrapped tight around her wrists.

                                                                                             they both knew who had won the wager at the same instant,       as her struggles died away  &&  a broad,   wicked grin spread across asha’s face,       her eyes glittering silver with triumph.      it’s  TEMPTING  to claim her victory then  &&  there,       with their arms still piled on the floor  –  surely andromeda is a delicious sight,        hair splayed across the floor while sweat-dampened strands stick to her neck.        for a moment,       she hesitates,     unmoving as her eyes glance over her prize.       her soft chest rises  &&  falls,   her jerkin pulled out of place in the struggle;     it’s very nearly OBSCENE,       &&  the captain has to stop herself from releasing her grip on andromeda’s wrists to give in to the temptation.         the pleasure comes with anticipation,     she knows.

                            but she does allow herself to release one of the wrists she has in her palms,      only for her grip to return when it takes ahold of her chin.        calloused hands that are more suited to an axe than a woman’s soft skin meet her jaw with shocking gentleness  &&  lift it,      exposing the pale column of her throat to asha’s hungry gaze.        she doesn’t hesitate,       lips tasting the skin of her throat,       gluttonous for the intoxicating blend of sweat  &&  leather  &&  steel  &&  woman.  

                                                                                               asha only allows herself to linger there a moment  –  never ones for  PATIENCE,      the ironborn   –   before leaning back  &&  pulling andromeda from her position on the floor.      the place her mouth landed on her throat was marred by a reddish spot that would grow darker with time.       it mattered not to asha  –  they would  BOTH  walk away from this night with bruises.       

                                                              hand closes over her prize  &&  pulls her to her feet.        but the kraken doesn’t allow her to go far,      an arm wrapping loosely round her waist  &&  ghosting over her hip the moment she’s upright.     she leans in,    nearly letting her lips brush against the shell of her ear as she makes her first demand.       ‘  get your weapons.       i intend to make  FULL  use of my victory  –  in my chambers.     ‘      as she whispers,         a hand slips upward,     skimming up the gently sloping curve of her spine before wrapping around her ribcage,       her touch as possessive as it is sensual.

                           SUPPLE lips open slowly, strained vocal chords letting out a sultry moan as asha’s teeth bare down upon her skin. the amazon feels little shame in her defeat. in fact, pinned beneath the overbearing presence of the woman who would soon be her LOVER, a certain serenity fills her. it’s a relief to be the passive one, to allow the positon of dominance to  pass   to   another.   both   eyes wander up, taking in the woman’s musk with a long, hollow breath. && as rough lips traipse over her throat, her head slowly leans into her partners’, fingers grasping at asha’s own, as subtle whispers of the ironborn’s name fill the surrounding air.

                                    AND for just a moment, as the tension comes to a standstill, andromeda gently nestles herself against the woman’s skin, the tip of her tongue slowly trailing over sweat laiden throat before pressing a gentle kiss to it’s base. salt collected on her tongue, teeth bare down and mark her own territory in return. a small dot of red blossoms outward from the point of contact, and just before she pulls herself back, the warrior draws her tongue over the wound with a soothing presence, both eyes closed. 

                            PATIENCE is a virtue all warriors are trained in, sooner or later. but even the most devout of shieldmaidens fall to their knees, and andromeda was no exception. now stood on her feet, not even a single breath is allowed to pass her lips before she’s pulled  back    into    the    ironborn’s embrace. as if by reflex, arms snake around her lovers’ battered form,   her   touch   gentle  (as to accomodate her newly collected wounds), but at the same time rough and   commanding.   calloused fingertips find their way to asha’s jawline, holding the woman’s gaze level to her own. 

                                   HER eyes close for a moment as honeyed words let slip against her ear drums, forceful and dominant all on their own; but when paired with the rough,   imperfect   gravel   of   asha’s voice, andromeda’s lips curl at the edge into a subtle smirk. fingertips   press   against   the   losened fabric that once sat sequestered beneath layers of leather armor, eliminating any notion that she was prepared to continue waiting. drifting ever closer into her lovers’ embrace, the hand that once held asha’s gaze still loosened, drifting silently across dark purple marks.  gently   resting   her   forehead upon asha’s for just a moment, enough to find her line of sight again.

                               ❝     WHY don’t you make me?   ❞

                    the change in her opponent was sudden  &&  absolute.        andromeda had slipped from her warrior’s stance  &&  sheathed her blade.        in an instant,        she was walking toward her with the war stripped from her form,        hips swaying gently with each heavy footfall.         her axe lowered,          grip loosened.        it was not to her liking to attack an opponent that had put away her arms,         but nor did she believe the fight was truly over.  

                                                                                               her body ached from bruises that would dapple her skin on the morrow,             each of them well landed from andromeda’s quick punches.            but when her fingertips brushed asha’s cheekbone,        her hands were gentle.         CALLOUSED  from years of wielding weapons,       but soft where they brushed half-dried blood from a cut above her brow.

                                                                                    ’  i do  LOVE  a woman who likes to get directly to the point  ‘     she replied.        a grin tilted up one side of asha’s mouth,       eyes flashing silver-grey.           with a tilt of her brow,      her axe suddenly went slipping from her hand,         landing with a loud  THUD  on the floor several feet from where the two women stood.         her hands slipped inside the leather of her vest to slip her sweet suckling babe from between her breasts,         iron handle gleaming silver just before she tossed it to land beside her axe.         

                              stripped of arms  &&  armor,       the kraken’s daughter felt light on her feet  &&  enthralled with the fight.         her breath has long slowed,         but muscles sore from handling heavy steel for so long  &&  throat covered in a light sheen of sweat betray the work it had taken to keep andromeda’s blade at bay.        she could feel strands of her hair sticking to the back of her neck,     could feel the cramp in her hand when she eased it out of the grip,    &&  the warmth of andromeda standing so close to her,        the other showing her own signs of exertion  (  a bead of sweat slipping down her collarbone,      a bruise already flowering over one of her forearms,       her hair tousled  &&  flyaway  ),        but looking far from spent.    

                                                                                the iron woman leaned in,       head tilting just slightly  &&  letting her eyes fall half-mast,     hiding the steel in them behind pale lids.       a confident hand extended,         found purchase in the leathers at her waist,      &&  pulled her just half a step closer,       just enough that their noses brush  &&  lips can  ALMOST  taste the other.        but there she stops,         eyes pulling open again,       &&  smirks,       hand closing around her wrist quick as a whip.    ‘ DEAL,  ‘  she whispers,     just before landing a light blow under her ribs  &&  releasing her wrist so the pair can break apart.         the next time they meet,     it won’t be so gentle.        &&  asha is impatient.         she only offers andromeda a moment to regain her footing before springing forward to strike again.

                                                    A CERTAIN desire lurked just beneath the warrior’s steely gaze, only amplified by the contact she made with the woman’s skin. as calloused   fingertips   brush   over   the blood,   the thought of what taste the ironborn’s lips would bring flooded her  mind.   or,   perhaps,   the texture  of  her voice in the throws of PASSION, pinned  beneath   andromeda’s   form   in   the   dead of   night.   all  questions she forced herself to leave   unanswered   for  the time  being,  for even THE KRAKEN’S DAUGHTER would have to earn that right.

                               BUT, almost in spite of her previous thoughts,  watching asha strip herself of her arms proved almost a sensual  experience;   now,   they   were   both   naked.   VULNERABLE.   no   steel  or leather to protect their bones   from  the   harsh   blows   to   come.   and   as   the   ironborn   removed   her axe   and dagger, so did the  amazon   pull  at   the   well   tied   knots   that   hold   her   leatherclad armor so close to her form. only when the sensation of asha’s nose brushed over her own did she take a moment to relax, eyes closed, longing for the woman’s kiss to break the monotony of battle. 

                    she’d almost forgotten the wager.

                               BOTH eyes gleam with an underlying respect as asha puts an abrupt end to their embrace. lips curl upward, mirroring the woman’s devious smirk. coughing slightly  after  the  hit,  it doesn’t take long for her to react with calculated strikes, a potent kick to the abdomen followed  by  a punch to the ribs, perhaps for retaliation. after every blow landed, both arms raise to defend from the onslaught that she knows will come shortly after. truth be told, she’s not the most   skilled   with   her fists. but her knowledge seems astute enough to hold asha off, if not for a minute.

                                   THE intervening minutes see power shifting back and forth between the women, myriad bruises that map their skin that won’t be revealed until all of their outer layers  are  eventually shed. the wooden floor echoes with each grapple, as the two fall to the floor in   attempt   to   establish dominance, rolling over one another in perpituity until andromeda’s muscles   finally   give.   perhaps she’s more talanted with the blade, but as she lay pinned beneath asha’s grip, she   simply   lets   her head rest against the floor with an exhausted smile, relieved that she’s not forced to take   the   reigns this time.

forhippolyta​.

‘ I HOPE you still have enough energy for another round. ‘

                    as her weight shifts back,      asha regaining her stance after a quick parry.       the other’s sword had proved an even match for her axe,         steel rising to meet steel,       no matter where it tried to bite.            it seemed the weapon was for more than just show. 

                                                                                    a thin sheen of sweat dampened the back of asha’s neck,       &&  her arms had begun to grow sweetly sore from the work of keeping her opponent off of her.        the iron woman was reckless on the battlefield,       far more comfortable with offense than defense.            it was rare that another found an opening in her attacks to strike back.           but her target this time had been unafraid to take advantage of any moment that asha didn’t use well.        it was refreshing,        to fight someone who feared as little as she did,       &&  she smiled as she lowered her axe to circle her opponent from a distance,       both of them pausing to think.        they seemed evenly matched  –  one of them would have to change tactics if there was to be a winner declared of this fight.    

                                     as leather boots kicked up dust  &&  axe waited at her side for another strike,          asha regarded her opponent.         a woman  –  rare enough that the krakeness had instantly been curious to see what she could do on the field.       &&  thus far,      there had been no disappointment from asha.         the woman moved with a precision that asha lacked,         a difference that only made her curiousity grow larger  –  this woman was no mere maid who had a fancy for steel;     she had been TRAINED.    by who,   for what purpose??      asha had to know.          as her opponent matched her circling,       her eyes glinted the color of the sea on a clear day,      &&  a wolfish grin spread across the captain’s face,          her own steel-grey irises trained on the woman’s strong legs  &&  quick arms  –  deadly.       she confessed,     asha liked the way her body had shifted from woman to warrior in an instant as soon as the ironborn had challenged her to a duel.          grin still in place,     she lifted her empty left hand,       palm upward.

                                                    ‘  my lady,     i propose that whosoever wins this spar                                                        shall owe the other a skin of wine,    or a tankard of                                                        ale,     as the winner prefers.         &&  perhaps they                                                        should pay for a meal for us both.     what say you?  ‘

                       IT’S impossibly rare, even in a land of warriors such as this, to find a woman of the familiar sex so adapt with these burly instruments of war. it was of no consequence to andromeda, for her entire life was blood && struggle, but the ironborn’s skill with a weapon that, under the hands of men would be reserved simply for execution, drew a rare look of respect from the warrior.

                                 THEY’D grappled like this for what seemed like hours, with the balance of power shifting back and forth between each of the duel’s participents in equal measure with clashing blades and  the  occasional  grapple  between  the    two.  measuring    both   opprotunity   and   weaknesses, andromeda’s blade keeps the GARRISH axe at bay, as her fist lands a decisive blow at asha’s left side, directly upon the gap between her ribs. and as the metals scrape across one another with a cringe-worthy noise and the combatants inch themselves away to re-evaluate their situation, andromeda’s eyes scan across the build of THE KRAKEN’S DAUGHTER, a gaze both of admiration and fierce respect. the tone of her opposition’s muscle, the way her chest rises with every exhausted breath, she finds it enthralling.

                                           BUT their rest was short lived (as a warrior’s work is never done), and soon precise swings meet the heavy weight of the ironborn’s battle axe. despite the fact that this was still a duel,  and  should  be  treated  as  such,  invisible  strings  hold  back  the  warrior’s   deadly   strikes, lessening the impact as not to truly harm the woman who had been so bold as to proposition her mid battle. an offer she wouldn’t deny, for their styles of combat are nearly identical, but her teasing mind finds a way to enhance the previous wager.

       ❝      I WOULD readily accept those terms, my lady, if i did not      find them slightly dull. why do we not double down on this bargain? ❞

                                            BLOODSTAINED lips had already formed a knowing smirk, and the blade she had spent the afternoon using as a tool against her enemy  had   slowly   been   sheathed.   and   with deliberately slow movement, her fingers clasp down upon the belt that   held   the   weapon   securely against her hip, unbuckling at the front, allowing the blade to fall to the floor with a decisive clang. with steps made heavy from her own exhaustion, and the hardened texture of the floor, andromeda made her way toward the other, less than a foot away before meeting asha’s gaze. a calloused hand raises to wipe the blood from the other’s face, gently, before she does the same to her own.