THE LEGEND OF ATLANTIS

He twisted around and jumped from the platform he was standing upon before barrel rolling. He quickly stood and faced his opponent, a woman he hadn't seen in many moons. She had followed him, landing gracefully on a barrel below her and flipping off of it to stand in front of him.

"Impressive," he smirked before slashing at her. She blocked it with ease and laughed.

"I've been studying," and she spun and thrusted towards him. He had jumped back, however, and was standing on the edge of the well in the middle of the storehouse. She leapt up and joined him, both circling with their swords at the ready.

Suddenly she stabbed at him, missing by an inch, and their fighting began, an intricate ballet of fancy slashing, thrusting, jabbing, parrying, and blocking. He finally cut her shirt, the injury on her arm bleeding slightly. She jumped back and ran up a flight of steps to the second floor. There, she cut a rope above her and watched as a candle chandelier fell towards him. She had no intention of killing him, just hurting him slightly. But he caught her action and was already on the stairs. She quickly cut a rope holding five barrels in place and watched them tumble down the stairs toward him.

He could hear the rum sloshing around inside, and all he could think of was, "Why is it always the rum?" He launched himself over the banister before rolling to a standing position and turning to see her running above. He looked around and saw a rope with a large weight tied to it. The rope was attached to a chandelier just ahead of where she was running. Acting quickly, he held onto the rope and cut the weight from it, sending him flying up to the second level. He jumped to the platform as the candles on the chandelier fell, starting a small fire near the barrels of rum he had avoided.

She gasped and struggled to free her sword of its sheath, backing away from him as he slowly walked towards her. Behind her was a crate, and she didn't notice until too late that it was there. She fell backwards, her sword slipping out of her hand and onto the floor in front of him.

As she sat up, he held his sword at her throat, smiling. She, too, then smiled before laughing.

"I expected you to be better after your last fight, Ambra," he said, smiling.

"I expected you to be more fair to me, Jack. After all, it was you who gave me this scar, wasn't it?" She unbuttoned her dark tunic and lifted her light shirt to reveal the thick white scar he knew was already there. It stretched across half of her stomach, ending just before her belly button. Jack recalled the night.

Ambra had been the seductive waitress at one of the taverns in Tortuga, and she had insisted on his crew having more to drink (this was before he met Angelica, mind you), on the house. It wasn't until after they were all leaving past midnight when Jack noticed that she hadn't let her eyes stray from him, a drunken captain who had made a fool of himself. She had followed him to the door, as they were the last to leave. He turned to say a few sweet compliments to her, but as he did, she pointed a small dagger at his throat, smiling. He backed up against the wall, suddenly feeling sober.

"Now why would a sweet little thing like you want to do away with me?" he had asked.

"I've got my own reasons," Ambra replied, an Italian accent thick on her voice.

"Does one of those reasons include money?" Jack asked slowly, pricking his finger as he tried to cautiously push away the blade.

"That is of no concern to you." She paused and her eyes became softer. "However, I can tell you that I am finding it incredibly hard to not slice your throat open." She let her guard down slightly, looking, mesmerizingly, into Jack's deep dark eyes. She stepped towards him, coming two inches in front of Jack and captivating him, but not for long. In that moment, Jack pulled out his own dagger and in the process of doing so, cut her dress and part of her abdomen. She gasped and fell in agonizing pain, holding her wound. He knelt with her and took her hands away slowly, revealing the abundant amount of blood soaking her dress that covered both of their hands.

"Sorry, love. I didn't mean to do that, in all honesty. I was expecting a small fight, some action."

"I believe you. Please, just help me to a seat. The bandages are in a cupboard near the bar," she winced as he helped her up and into a chair at a small table nearby. She was coughing as Jack went to the cupboard and searched quickly for the bandages. Once he found them, he helped her bind the wound.

"It'll leave a scar, but I do believe you will be fine." Jack sighed as he sat down across from Ambra, examining her as she pulled her hair from the loose bun it had been captured in. Her dark hair fell in loose ringlets past her shoulders, coming to just below her small bosom. He noticed her bright blue eyes, as blue as the sky and sea if they were joined in harmony. They were beautiful, enchanting.

"I do believe that is what I get for allowing some lowlife pirate pay me to kill you." She looked up and saw the curiosity shining in his eyes, and with a smile she said, "His intentions for your killing were unstated. I just believed it was another rivalry, or caused by some kind of past event that you should have died in."

Jack laughed heartily. "Believe me, lass, there's been a lot of those."

Ambra smiled and looked into the fire of the candle on the table. Jack noticed the faraway look to her face, the distant gleam in her eyes. An overpowering desire to hold her and comfort her overcame him, and without thinking twice, her small and delicate hands were in his rough and experienced ones. She looked up at him, lost for words.

"Captain..." she whispered, but as she did, Jack leaned and kissed her, taking the words from her and leaving her breathless.

Jack wasn't exactly sure what happened that night (as usual), but he recalled waking up next to her, an angel from Italia, and kissing her before he sneaked away back to his ship and crew, leaving as soon as dawn broke across the horizon, bound for London. It was the hardest thing Jack had ever done.

Jack broke from his trance and helped Ambra to her feet, handing her back her sword, sheathing his, and starting to walk away. "I guess you'll have to train more and come to fight another day." He can't involve her in this, not after he lost her the first time, one of the biggest mistakes he ever made.

"I hear you're recruiting again, Jack," she called after him, hurriedly sheathing her own sword as she slowly followed him.

"Maybe, maybe not. You can't trust everything you hear," Jack called back, starting down the stairs.

Ambra leaned over the railing and called to him, "I want in!" He stopped, surprised, and turned around. She was at the bottom of the stairs now, looking at him anxiously. Slowly, he walked to her.

"What?" She smiled at him deceivingly.

"You heard me. I want you to recruit me."

Jack looked past her and shook his head. "No, I don't think so." And he started to walk away again.

The smile was wiped from Ambra's face as she yelled "Jack!" and followed him outside, the sky dark and the streets of London quiet. "Why not?"

"Not that I don't like you, I just don't fancy the idea of spending everyday with you," Jack said, kicking himself for saying that. He did want to spend everyday with her, every moment.

Ambra stopped and raised her arms, laughing slightly. "What's not to like about me? I'm young, I know how to fight, I listen to orders, and I'm loyal! You of all people should know that, Jack." Her voice had cracked at the end, he could hear it, and he wondered if she could possibly still feel the same way.

Jack turned to face her, hastily coming up with an excuse. "Yes, but you haven't been out to sea in a while, no? I don't take amateurs, too hard to care for." She wasn't an amateur, that he knew. But losing her would be more devastating to him than losing his prized compass, to which he knew would be pointing to her had he opened it. As he started to walk away, Ambra grabbed his arm and came close to him.

"Jack, please. At summer's end, I will be travelling back to Italia, and I don't know if I will be coming back. Please, just give me this last adventure?" she pleaded. She seemed to glow under the full moon, her eyes bright and her features soft. Jack longed to kiss her, show her that he really did still have feelings for her.

Finally, he said jokingly, "If you're going to be travelling, I advise Spain. Much richer culture." But he could see that she was slightly offended. Dammit..., he thought. Why'd I say a thing like that? "Sorry, love. Only joking." When she didn't respond, Jack looked away and said quietly, "I'll think about it." And he walked away, having the same feeling of regret every time he left her.

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