Sea Tales : Some Pirate Drabbles
Ahoy, mates ~
Digging down in the hold I found some older stuff of mine, and thought I would share. Here you may find a handful of Pirate drabbles which I doodled a little while back. Nothing profound, just a little fun. :-)
SEA TALES: PIRATE DRABBLES
By ErinRua
Hunted, Hunter
Blue seas thunder against a surging black hull, the sails above bellied full to the press of a quartering wind. Each swell of deep water is met with a thud and powerful heave as a sleek bow knifes its way ahead of the hunter.
For he comes on a long reach beneath a cloud of white sail, that drives the might of the Royal Navy beneath it. Hunter, nemesis, scourge of the wolves of the deep, with guns hunched in latent violence below-decks.
But the wheel spins to a new trim of tall black sails, and then the sparrow flies.
~***~
Storm Coming In
She plummets from the ramparts like a dove shot off the wing, blue water clapping her to itself with a furious white splash. And that is all.
"Will you be saving 'er, then?"
Fat chance of that, twin looks of befuddlement, and he strips coat, hat, accoutrements with brutal swiftness - "Do not lose these!"
Sharp arcing dive into the deep as the sea itself shudders and darkens. Something calls. Strong arms lift and strong legs kick towards the watery ceiling above. Something awakens. Two heads break the surface in frantic spray, but the sun is already gone. Something comes.
A/N: The last drabble of course is an image of when Jack dives to save Elizabeth, and the medallion hits the water and calls the curse ...
~***~
Blood and Gold
I have sailed where most men dream. I have seized ships off the coast of Africa and looted galleons off the shores of Spain. I have poured the riches of great lords into the hands of barefoot pirates and drank rum from a silver chalice. I have seen lizards that swim and birds that can't fly and fire in the rigging that burns cold blue. I have heard the sea moan under an armor of ice and navigated where the stars are strange. But one thing I never forget, mate … all this is paid for in blood and gold.
~***~
A Blacksmith's Hands
A blacksmith's hands …yet these are not what a pirate would expect. Strength and sureness, aye, precise blows of hammer, sure rasp of file, deft movements to temper a keen, bright edge to new steel. That is a craftsman's gift and as it should be. But this - oh this deadly dance of blade on blade and eyes staring back hot as the forge; very interesting. A serpent's grace, an adder's strike, all here in the steel in a blacksmith's hands. A man could learn to love that - if it wasn't trying to kill him.
~***~
A Blacksmith's Hands, Revisited
They are hands that build and forge and form, hands that strike steel and hands quick with a blade. His are hands made for strength and skill, for shaping that which is not into that which will be. These hands, these beloved hands can kill or create with equal sureness and yet … His eyes are darkness warmed with deep lanterns and promise that has no limit, as those same hands … touch. Living silk burns as no steel could. A craftsman's care, a lover's need softly bids hidden fires and she is drowning in the caress of a blacksmith's hands.
~***~
Special thanks to my crew on board The Black Pearl Sails Fan Fiction, the most creative pirates an ol' sea-dog could ever want, and who have brought drabbling to high art. :-)
Digging down in the hold I found some older stuff of mine, and thought I would share. Here you may find a handful of Pirate drabbles which I doodled a little while back. Nothing profound, just a little fun. :-)
SEA TALES: PIRATE DRABBLES
By ErinRua
Hunted, Hunter
Blue seas thunder against a surging black hull, the sails above bellied full to the press of a quartering wind. Each swell of deep water is met with a thud and powerful heave as a sleek bow knifes its way ahead of the hunter.
For he comes on a long reach beneath a cloud of white sail, that drives the might of the Royal Navy beneath it. Hunter, nemesis, scourge of the wolves of the deep, with guns hunched in latent violence below-decks.
But the wheel spins to a new trim of tall black sails, and then the sparrow flies.
~***~
Storm Coming In
She plummets from the ramparts like a dove shot off the wing, blue water clapping her to itself with a furious white splash. And that is all.
"Will you be saving 'er, then?"
Fat chance of that, twin looks of befuddlement, and he strips coat, hat, accoutrements with brutal swiftness - "Do not lose these!"
Sharp arcing dive into the deep as the sea itself shudders and darkens. Something calls. Strong arms lift and strong legs kick towards the watery ceiling above. Something awakens. Two heads break the surface in frantic spray, but the sun is already gone. Something comes.
A/N: The last drabble of course is an image of when Jack dives to save Elizabeth, and the medallion hits the water and calls the curse ...
~***~
Blood and Gold
I have sailed where most men dream. I have seized ships off the coast of Africa and looted galleons off the shores of Spain. I have poured the riches of great lords into the hands of barefoot pirates and drank rum from a silver chalice. I have seen lizards that swim and birds that can't fly and fire in the rigging that burns cold blue. I have heard the sea moan under an armor of ice and navigated where the stars are strange. But one thing I never forget, mate … all this is paid for in blood and gold.
~***~
A Blacksmith's Hands
A blacksmith's hands …yet these are not what a pirate would expect. Strength and sureness, aye, precise blows of hammer, sure rasp of file, deft movements to temper a keen, bright edge to new steel. That is a craftsman's gift and as it should be. But this - oh this deadly dance of blade on blade and eyes staring back hot as the forge; very interesting. A serpent's grace, an adder's strike, all here in the steel in a blacksmith's hands. A man could learn to love that - if it wasn't trying to kill him.
~***~
A Blacksmith's Hands, Revisited
They are hands that build and forge and form, hands that strike steel and hands quick with a blade. His are hands made for strength and skill, for shaping that which is not into that which will be. These hands, these beloved hands can kill or create with equal sureness and yet … His eyes are darkness warmed with deep lanterns and promise that has no limit, as those same hands … touch. Living silk burns as no steel could. A craftsman's care, a lover's need softly bids hidden fires and she is drowning in the caress of a blacksmith's hands.
~***~
Special thanks to my crew on board The Black Pearl Sails Fan Fiction, the most creative pirates an ol' sea-dog could ever want, and who have brought drabbling to high art. :-)