The Tolling of the Bell

Author: Pilgrim
Title: Tolling of the Bell
Rating: NC-17 by the end possibly sooner depends on how the story progresses
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the PotC characters or movies (unfortunately); anything you recognize isn’t mine (god damn them to hell!) Before anyone asks yes, Oria is mine, who else could have thought up such a creature?
Feedback: Please! First time fan fiction writer and desperate for tips, tricks, advice, stuff me full of info please! I want to improve and take over the world with my genius mwhahaha! Lol, only kidding but feedback would be fantastic, send it to raukarwen_deomene@yahoo.com! VERY FRIENDLY PERSON WILL NOT KILL ANYONE FOR BEING POSITVE OR NEGATIVE! JUST TELL ME!

Chapter 4 – ‘Twas No Accident

Jack emerged first as the noise outside of the tavern grew to a crescendo as blades clashed and firearms were abandoned in favour of the appropriately named ‘stab and slash’ approach. The crew of the Black Pearl swiftly followed their Captain as they ducked and dodged down the various side-alleys and around the skirmishes that had sprung in every corner of every street and courtyard. Marines and red-coats were swarming the streets, five to each individual pirate.

Oria paused for a fateful moment at the sight of a female pirate being murdered without any chance of defending herself. She drew her pistol and fired at the marine, he screamed briefly as the shot ricocheted through his ribcage.

Jack grasped her arm and dragged her back into the side-alley shouting for the crew to continue without them before too much attention could be attracted. She laughed at Jack’s glower as he pressed them both into the shadows, “What? You thought I’d have changed? Come on Jack, you know better than most that old habits die hard. I can’t help getting involved, it’s in my nature.” Oria jovially announced into the scream filled night air.

The familiar rush of adrenaline was coursing through her veins now and she was unable to stand still even though Jack was pinning her forcefully to the wall with as much strength as he dared. This was what had been missing in the idyllic setting that had been crafted about them by Jack. The random skirmishes, the rush of battle and the sheer thrill at feeling strength course through her veins once more. Reckless and untamed, it was completely and utterly thrilling in its abandonment. The elixir of life itself, more intoxicating than any bottle of rum, mead or ale.

“The less attention we could attract the better if you don’t mind. I am trying to get us out of here alive firstly and with as few casualties as possible secondly.” Jack snapped, Oria brushed him away with a scowl at being refused this chance but nodded after a few seconds in disappointed acceptance. If she was lucky one of the men might spot them and charge, at least then she would get a small brawl. Jack grasped her hand to ensure he knew exactly where she was, he’d recognised that glint in her eye and didn’t trust it one bit.

Slowly they began to creep back towards the Pearl only to have to leap apart as a blade slashed down where they had been stood moments before. Oria rolled away drawing her cutlass on instinct and trembling with the rush, her reactions sharpened to pinprick accuracy. Everything sang at her, everything shone brightly, sharp relief and dazzling beyond comprehension. Idyllic was fine, but it always got bland at some point.

She blocked a swing for her thigh and smacked the flat of her sword against the marine’s thigh sharply. He howled at the sting and attempted to behead her, only to miss by miles as she ducked, rolled and rose behind him, lunging for his spine and striking in perfect accuracy. Her cutlass swung free cleanly, spinning on her fingertips lighter than any feather.

The man crumpled to the floor as instinct honed from aeons told her to turn, and quickly. A second blade clashed with hers. Oria pushed it aside and into the ground, knocking the man soundly on the jaw with her fist. He stumbled to the side, opening the small area for another marine to enter, Oria leapt over the low swing of the blade and slashed for the third man’s stomach.

The man leapt backwards, her blade tip slicing through only the navy coat material. Two tips were dangling pathetically from the once fine article of clothing. Eyes met hers and she paused temporarily as the smile of victory and sheer exhilaration fell, a moment too long stationary as the blade sliced into her upper right arm. Oria shouted in surprise and pain and bounced backwards away from the sword; her fingers brushed over the wound and she stared in disbelief as they were stained crimson. It was her first true wound that would take time to heal. Strangely, it pleased her; a testimony that she truly was alive.

“We meet again Miss De Monara. This time I will not lose and you shall die, just as you promised me.” Oria stared dumbly at James Norrington, in full marine regalia. Not quite believing what her eyes told her was most definitely true. She had ordered him destroyed, Maccus had not honoured his deal, either that or somehow the man had managed to claw himself out of insanity and back into his life.

Oria laughed heartlessly, “You can’t beat me James. You never could and you never will.” She intoned with great satisfaction having recovered from the initial shock of seeing him once more. James lunged, attempting to stab her through the heart. She leapt backwards, dodging around several bodies as she fought for some ground with which to retaliate.

“I’ve waited a long time to remove you from the face of this earth.” He proclaimed his sword brushing against hers in a moment of paused motion, Oria laughed.

“As far as I am aware I am still alive, so your task isn’t complete yet Commodore.” She blocked his half-hearted lunge.

“It’s Admiral now actually.” He attested vainly, blocking her own half-hearted attempt.

“I’d thought it was closer to ass actually, or perhaps pig? I seem to remember spotting you in a pig sty, drunk as a skunk and in the same decrepit state.” Oria mocked with a flourish, Norrington lunged, slashing at her violently. Oria jumped back with a laugh, parrying the blow easily and skipping over a barrel.

James followed her, furious at her impudence and mockery. His blade clashed with hers and her arm began to give way, the wound stinging viciously and the muscles surrounding it complaining at the abuse they were taking. She quickly clasped the hilt with both hands and pushed him backwards harshly. Jack appeared to her right, a ragged but shallow cut to his cheek and a blossoming bruise on the back of his sword hand.

A marine stepped between Jack and his destination of intercepting Norrington. Both Jack and Oria knew she was not ready to take on a good swordsman, especially not one of James calibre and with a burning desire for revenge. She knew too little about her mortal capabilities, immortality rendered stamina and pain all but non-consequential. Now, they could decide the ultimate outcome of the smallest duel.

Jack shouted over the crowd for her to run, Oria looked appalled. “I’ve never run before in my life Jack Sparrow and I do NOT intend on starting now!” She attested sharply, smacking the Admiral’s blade away lightly as it began to intrude into her personal space once more.

Jack was blocked by several more marines who were rallying to their Admiral’s defence. Norrington swung for her side; she skipped sideways and slashed at his own undefended right. He yelped as the blade scratched but failed to create a wound any deeper than superficial as he half side-stepped away from the blow.

They parried for a couple of strides till Oria almost landed a fatal blow, her sword missing his throat by millimetres, she grimaced at the lack of luck. She stumbled slightly over a body as James lunged, his blade only parried at the last second by her own and prevented from piercing her thigh by millimetres.

Oria clashed their blades several more times as the lack of stamina that was all but unknown to her began to hit harder than an anvil, sapping her strength. All the athletic movements that had made her style so precise and deadly before now cost her energy and it was being rapidly drained. Norrington appeared to sense this, his sword now aiming to make her move rather than to injure. Oria jumped several times as it swiped for her ankles, blocking the last one and smacking the flat of her cutlass against his temple.

The Admiral stumbled slightly as a kaleidoscope of colours flashed in front of his vision from the blow. Oria lunged and struck his thigh, the blade sinking deep into the flesh. The man gave an agonised cry but it seemed to provoke him more than destroy him as he swung back violently. Oria slipped on the muddy cobbles falling onto her back as James lunged viciously, her blade valiantly colliding with his and holding it above her throat in a battle of brute strength.

Gathering a surge of force she pushed back almost knocking him from his feet with the sudden billow of power as her anger swelled. Oria rose smoothly, her blade missing his chest by millimetres as he scrabbled away and back upright slicing across her left cheek as he regained his feet. She stumbled at the blow, feeling the sting blossom from the slash.

How long had they been sparring for? It felt like an eternal war and her muscles were beginning to ache with the sudden cost of the fight and its intensity after the nothingness of the past few weeks. What had been only a dull ache in her arm was now a full-blown raging and stabbing pain. It was strange to her, what she had always believed would be a minor wound was now draining her strength drastically as it refused to heal.

Ducking another strike aiming for her throat Oria scooped up a second sword and attempted to slash both of his calves. He pushed her aside angrily, she rolled away and stumbled to her feet clumsily, using both blades to attack and defend as smoothly as possible. She could see his own energy beginning to drain and reasoned if she could just keep him going for a few more minutes longer then she could win through determination alone.

Oria’s attention was drawn to her right as the click of a flintlock echoed eerily in her senses; it fired off just as she skipped backwards. The wall to their right exploded abruptly with the force of the shot. Seconds later, her blades were crossed over her head stopping Norrington’s single sword from shattering her skull. Her eyes widened as a second blade appeared in his free hand, it surged forwards as he pushed backwards forcefully and her back collided sharply with a wall. A choked cry fell from her lips as she felt the sword sink into the tender area just beneath her right ribs, a few inches above her naming scars.

Searing pain and fire scorched through her veins like wildfire as the sword was swiftly tugged free as she choked a cry back. “The age of pirates is coming to an end. I can honestly say that I am glad to have the honour to finish your miserable life once and for all. Especially as you promised me the honour once you regained mortality. You are a cursed life, meant for nothing more than the fires of hell.” James hissed as he stepped away, both blades falling to the cobbles from Oria’s hands as she pressed her palms to the wound. Leaning back against the wall she felt the strength drain from her legs and in seconds she was sat on the cobbles with a chilling numbness spreading icy cold after the wildfire, radiating in crushing waves from the wound.

Sound seemed to cease, dulling into nothing more than a distant roar, the shades of charcoal night fading darker as if into an oblivion of nothingness. Oria could hear her own heart, a deep resounding steady thud echoing through shuddering almost distant breaths.


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

SORRY FOR DELAY, PROBLEM WITH INTERNET. NEXT UPDATE ON FRIDAY 6TH JULY.