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Ed’s muscles burned. It was a different sort of burn than she was used to, more in her legs and, for some reason, stomach, than what she was used to from the daily work on a ship. A new kind of strain. She knew she’d be sore the next day, and already she was tired, dripping sweat and this close to shaking with effort.
You asked for this, she reminded herself. She glanced at the dark figure watching her every move from a few feet away and felt a new wave of determination fill her. Five more repeats. She crouched low on her leading foot, jumped up abruptly with her weapon flying high. Four more.
She’s not just gonna fall in your lap, said a voice in her head, stern like her mother sometimes got. If you really want it, you might have to work harder than this.
That thought almost got her to groan out loud, but she stopped herself, just barely. Izzy was probably just waiting for her to back off and give up, to prove that Ed wasn’t worth her time after all. Ed clenched her teeth and repeated the move again, and again, and again.
Her sweat was making the shorter bits of her hair stick to her face. She just hoped Izzy liked her girls a little messy.
“Alright, enough pussyfooting around.” Izzy finally announced, taking several steps back from where she’d been inspecting Ed’s footwork. “Time to see what you’re really made of.”
Ed dropped her position with gratitude, her muscles shaky after the drills and unending corrections she’s been subjected to so far this evening. She shook out her hands and turned towards her tutor, loose black curls bouncing around her face. “What was all this, then?”
Izzy huffed. There wasn’t even a ghost of a smile on her face, the usual judgemental, focused look still in place. It was okay, Ed knew. She would get there. “This was just the bare basics - what you need to know so you don’t stab yourself by accident. Theory. Now I want to see you really fight.”
“A duel?” Ed said, a delighted grin creeping onto her face. “My, what an honour!”
Izzy rolled her eyes and threw her a waterskin, barely looking in her direction. Ed managed to catch it one-handed, just barely avoiding dropping her weapon in the process. She gratefully took several long sips, letting the water pour out of her mouth and down her neck, watching Izzy with half-lidded eyes to see if the sight affected her in any way. No luck. Crap.
“Don’t go getting a big head about this.” Izzy continued, her gaze bored and not following the trail of wetness seeping into Ed’s neckline in a way she knew made men stare. “You’re still shit. It’s just important to keep a balance between the proper techniques that will save your ass if your body remembers them correctly, and actual smarts you need not to get skewered when someone goes off-book.”
Ed nodded solemnly, digging into her pocket for a piece of string to tie her hair up with. Didn’t want it getting in her eyes now that she’d actually be facing an opponent.
It made sense. To be honest, Ed was surprised by Izzy’s insistence on her learning the proper techniques in the first place, feeling more like a navy recruit than a bloodthirsty pirate. She was kind of relieved to know there was more to Izzy’s skill she was willing to share than just the boring drills Ed could’ve gotten by sneaking into a posh boarding school’s gymnasium.
“What’s the difference, then? How do I really fight?” Ed threw the waterskin onto a pile of coiled ropes next to the mast. She shook her hands out again. “What’s your big secret, Izzy Hands?”
Izzy drew her blade, waved it in wide circles easily like a child fidgeting with a stick. “You stay aware of your surroundings, use them to your advantage. Don’t show any weakness, unless you’re trying to trick them into something. And most importantly,” she said, her grin hungry and terrible in a way that made Ed’s insides go all tangled and tight, “you fight like your life depends on it. Because it does.”
With that, she was off, lunging at Ed without warning so fast Ed swore if she blinked she would have missed it. With a surprised cry, Ed raised her own weapon and tried to retreat gracefully like she’d been practicing, but felt her legs were at least two steps behind her panicked, adrenaline-filled brain.
Her one advantage in this was her height, and she made use of it, jumping on long legs as far as she could manage from the pointy tip of Izzy’s blade. Once out of reach, she quickly took stock of the new tips, tried to will her body into remembering the endless repetitions Izzy made her perform. Fight like your life depends on it. She could do that. The stakes were high enough here, too, even if she was pretty sure Izzy wouldn’t actually hurt her too badly.
Izzy watched her lazily, clearly not about to bother with chasing Ed around the deck, waiting for her next move like a lion stalking its prey. There was something intense in her gaze that made Ed burn from the inside, fear and adrenaline mixing with a strange thrill. It was quite something, to be the centre of Izzy Hands’ sole focus.
Finally, Ed made her move. She pretended to roll her shoulder with a frown, like she was preparing to massage soreness out of it, then lunged unexpectedly in Izzy’s direction, sword-first.
Izzy’s eyebrows barely twitched as their blades clashed, the block easy and fluid, barely a challenge. Ed struggled against her for a moment before giving up and letting herself be knocked to the side.
“Not good enough, Teach.” Izzy’s voice was a taunt, like she wanted to get a rise out of her, but Ed knew that she wouldn’t be able to gain the upper hand with just anger and the strength of her body on her side. No, she needed to think smart, provide a distraction. She decided to reach for her favourite tool as she sank low on her knees and prepared to stab at Izzy’s open side. She would have to start running her mouth.
“How’d you get into pirating, anyways?” Ed asked curiously, trying to sound like she was more invested in conversation than the movements of their bodies. It wasn’t hard to do - after all, she genuinely wanted to know everything about this fascinating, distant woman. “Were you that desperate to be able to stab people?”
“Land life is not for me.” Izzy replied, a note of annoyance in her voice as she effortlessly blocked another of Ed’s attempts. Gracefully, she extended the movement to cut at Ed, and Ed barely managed to jump backwards and away from the swish of the blade.
“Not very keen on marriage and a gaggle of children, then?” Ed continued, scanning their surroundings for anything that would help her. Maybe she could jump on that crate there, hit Izzy from above?
“If you think we’re gonna be bosom friends just because we’ve both got cunts - “ Izzy’s blade cut through the air just an inch from Ed’s ear. Ed could feel her blood pumping faster, the danger filling her with giddy energy. “Then you’re too dumb for this life, girl. I’m not here to babysit you, Teach.”
Ed had to duck away from her next blow, and she sank low, throwing her entire body’s weight suddenly to the side to avoid getting skewered. Izzy’s voice was measured, no different from the way she spoke normally on deck, unbothered by the exercise, while Ed was already huffing. It occurred to Ed that she might be, in fact, quite shit at this, and not just by Izzy’s ridiculously high standards.
“I’m not asking for a sitter.” Ed said, hoping to distract Izzy with her words enough to get a hit in. No luck. The point of her rapier missed by almost a foot as Izzy twisted away. “I’m asking for lessons from the greatest swordsman I’ve met.”
“Haven’t met too many people yet, have you? In your ten whole years of life.”
Ed threw her head back, laughing loud and bright, barely remembering to scutter out of the way of being stabbed by Izzy. She turned her attention back to the fight reluctantly, the strange joy of bickering with this serious woman warming her insides.
“‘s not it, though. I know special when I see it.”
There was the tiniest pause in Izzy’s smooth movements, the briefest moment of hesitation, like she’s never heard such a thing said about herself. Probable enough, Ed figured, knowing what kinds of lives led women to the sea, and yet -
Something about it sat wrong. She knew from the very first time she’d laid eyes on Izzy that she was different, somehow, than even the nastiest, most experienced and roughened women she’d met on land and sea alike. There was a part of Izzy that sang to Ed, made her follow her with her gaze more keenly than any of her other crewmates, and it felt a little like recognition.
“I’m gonna need that, you know. Good to have real skill on your side, someone who really sees the vision for what I’ve got planned.” Ed continued, cutting low at Izzy’s shins. Izzy cursed under her breath as she jumped high to get out of the way. Ed smirked, trying to convey all her confidence with her next words. “I’m going to be a captain one day.”
It was Izzy’s turn to laugh, a short dismissive snort that Ed’s never heard from her before. It made her want to make Izzy laugh again and again, properly and fully. It made her want to prove her wrong.
“Not with that form, you’re not.” Izzy declared, her blade flying towards Ed. Ed blocked, held fast against the strong press of Izzy’s sword, and noted the muscles in the older woman’s arms flexing deliciously with effort. Saliva flooded her mouth.
“Give it time, I might still surprise you.” She huffed, feeling a bead of sweat pour down her face. Izzy grinned dangerously and twisted her wrist in a fast, complicated move that had Ed’s sword flying out of her hand in the blink of an eye. A surprised cry tore out of Ed’s throat as the blade hit the deck with a metallic sound, just as Izzy made first contact.
The sword cut easily through Ed’s loose shirt and skin, a downward slice from her collarbone towards her belly button. Ed’s heart beat fast as she stood frozen in place, suddenly very aware she could be cut open any second, hot blood slowly welling up against her tender skin. She stumbled backwards, more in shock than from the pain, and fell straight to her arse on the unforgiving wood of the deck.
“Sure, captain,” the tip of Izzy’s blade pressed against Ed’s throat. Her tone was mocking, but there was a glint to her eye that spoke of a challenge, and Ed understood then and there that she would go to unimaginable lengths to impress this woman. Ed’s chest heaved with too-quick breath and her eyes stayed wide open with wonder as she watched Izzy make an effort to slow her own heart down. They stayed suspended in their positions for what felt like hours, until Izzy abruptly snatched her blade away, sheathing it in a practiced motion, and looked away.
Ed’s gaze lowered to the cut on her torso, a long but shallow line in the middle of her rib cage. It was bleeding sluggishly and stung like a motherfucker, and her shirt hung open around it, barely concealing her tits.
She did that on purpose, Ed realized. Izzy could’ve cut her anywhere, disarmed her easily in the first minute of their duel, and yet she chose to indulge in the exercise. She toyed with Ed, then tore her shirt to shreds like maybe she wanted to see what lay beneath. Ed’s stomach and cunt clenched in sync.
As she pushed herself up, Ed fought the instinctual urge to cover up, instead doing everything to push her meagre breasts out and into the open, nipples hardening in the cool evening air. She saw Izzy’s eyes catch the newly revealed skin and snatch away with something akin to guilt, and she suddenly felt as if she won after all.
“Cover yourself up, Teach, and go clean your wound.” Izzy said gruffly, very intentionally not looking Ed’s way. “Doesn’t need the medics attention, and he’s a perv anyway.”
“Seems to me everyone on this boat’s a perv.” Ed replied happily, stalking closer to her teacher and doing nothing to hide her tits. Let them stare; she could fend for herself.
Izzy looked up sharply at the implication, meeting Ed’s eyes carefully. Ed let the grin she was fighting take over her face, then raised her eyebrows as if remembering something.
“I’d love to get myself decent, except. This is my only shirt, ma’am.” She made her eyes wide and as innocent as she could manage, blinking a few times for good measure. Izzy looked away again.
“Don’t call me that.” She said, clenching her fist. After the briefest hesitation, she continued. “I’ll lend you some thread from my stash. Come on.”
Ed’s smile grew wider as Izzy moved to go below decks. “Aye, sir.”
She clutched the torn fabric in her hand as they walked towards Izzy’s cabin through dark, stuffy corridors. In the end, she didn’t enjoy the men’s sleazy glares half as much as Izzy’s attention. She followed Izzy, watching the tense line of her shoulders.
When the door closed behind them and Izzy started rifling through her belongings in search of thread and needle, Ed was struck by a genius idea. She swiped a finger through the blood dripping slowly down her chest, gathered some of the redness there and inspected it in the faint light from the tiny porthole on one of the walls.
Izzy turned, having found what she was looking for, and Ed thrust her finger out towards her.
“I believe this is yours, sir,” she said sweetly, coming closer to press her bloodied skin to Izzy’s lips. Izzy’s mouth opened in surprise and Ed stopped herself from pressing it in, stretching the moment between them. Such a small thing; a fingertip against a lip, feather-light and tentative, and yet it was the centre of her universe. Not only hers, if she read Izzy’s hesitation correctly. How fun. “Spoils of the battle.”
Izzy’s gaze bore into her with a sudden intensity and hunger. Ed smiled mischievously when she felt the wet tip of a tongue press against her fingertip. She watched closely the miniscule changes in Izzy’s expression; there seemed to be some internal fight going on inside of her. Her brow furrowed, a muscle twitched right next to her lips, where a slight wrinkle was already forming despite her being no more than fifteen years Ed’s senior. Her eyes fluttered shut and she breathed with effort, and Ed was utterly fascinated by the spectacle. She decided to make it a bit easier for the poor woman, what with her obsession with hierarchy.
“Go on, don’t be shy.” She cooed, dropping the innocent act on a hunch, thrilled by the possibility opening up before them both. “You’ve earned it.”
Izzy’s breath hitched as she opened her mouth wider and sucked in the bloody digit. At the first taste of Ed, she made a sound like a groan and a whine in one, a sound like a starving thing finally biting into fresh meat. A pleasant shiver ran down Ed’s spine when Izzy started sucking her clean, eyes still tightly shut, a look of ecstasy on her face.
Gorgeous, Ed thought. The most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
Izzy’s tongue swirled around her finger, getting into every crevice, teeth sliding over her nail, and Ed felt her arousal raise, clouding her thoughts. Her clit pulsed sympathetically as she yearned for Izzy to suck at her there, instead.
Before she knew it, Izzy dropped her wet finger from her mouth and wrapped two strong hands around her waist, pulling her close. A small sound of surprise escaped Ed, but soon it melted into a high moan as Izzy pressed her face into her tits and started licking directly at the cut, still stinging with pain. The wet heat of Izzy’s tongue and lips soothed the hurt, but most importantly, Izzy’s enthusiasm was what got to her. She seemed to be going crazy with lust and hunger, like she wanted to eat Ed whole. God, Ed would let her.
She held onto Izzy’s hair as the woman swiped her tongue along the cut she put there herself, clenching her fingers in the short strands, feeling heat spread from every point of contact they shared. She started panting when Izzy moved on from the thoroughly cleaned scratch to the rest of her chest, sucking bruises into the side of Ed’s tits, biting at the soft tissue, and finally wrapping her lips against her hard nipple. A jolt of pleasure overtook Ed, her clit seemingly directly connected to the brown nub being teased by Izzy’s tongue in quick, light swipes and longer, demanding sucks. It was so much, and just what she’s dreamt of for many a lonely night aboard the Ranger, and Ed’s head was swimming with it.
Izzy made a feral noise as she switched sides and latched onto the other nipple, rolling it skillfully between her teeth, and Ed keened. Suddenly, she knew she wouldn’t be able to take any more of this treatment without embarrassing herself, and she took hold of Izzy’s hair to yank her back and away.
“Fuck me,” she wheezed out, eyes trained on Izzy’s spit-slick mouth. She still felt the dark gaze on her, trained on her face as Izzy obediently dragged a hand across her stomach and to the tie at the front of her trousers. She helped Izzy untie the knot and sighed in relief when her warm, wide palm slipped below her waistband without preamble, cupping her hairy cunt without further direction.
Ed had to grip Izzy’s shoulder for balance, for something to hold onto, when two wide, callused fingers parted her and slid against her clit. “Fuck,” Izzy groaned into her neck, pressing closer still, gathering her wetness and feeling her out. Ed’s back arched, hips rolling down and into the touch, and she shut her eyes. Right then, Izzy’s hot breath against her skin and her slick, skilled fingers circling the centre of her pleasure were the only sensations in the world.
Her pelvis twitched forward when Izzy pressed a tiny bit harder, tiny moans falling from her lips. Izzy licked up her neck, probably tasting layers of sweat gathered there from their training session, and Ed angled her chin down, suddenly desperate to feel Izzy’s lips against her own. Izzy seemed to understand and leaned up into her, capturing her parted mouth and licking into her with fervor. Ed moaned into the kiss shamelessly.
Izzy’s focus seemed to have shifted from the hand in Ed’s pants to the press of their lips, the ravenous kiss that tasted like salt and blood and made Ed’s heart beat even faster. The fingers against Ed’s cunt lost their precision, rubbing at her up and down with less finesse than earlier, but somehow it was even better this way. To be wanted so viciously, so devotedly that the person fucking her could barely focus on the task at hand; it was the hottest thing Ed’s experienced so far.
Soon, she was whining into Izzy’s mouth and grinding desperately against the firmness of Izzy’s hand, her entire mound shaking with their animated movements. All of it was just so good, wave after wave of warmth spilling from her clit outwards until the pleasure crested and she shook apart against Izzy’s fingers, clenching and gasping through it.
Before she could react or stop Izzy from fucking her into oversensitivity, Izzy’s deft fingers slid to the sides of her clit, trapping it there, and jerked her off roughly. Ed fell into the second orgasm smoothly, barely finished with the first one, and cried out as her whole body tensed, overwhelmed.
When it was over, she realized they were still standing, somehow, Izzy’s entire palm laid affectionately over her pussy, their foreheads pressed against each other as they panted centimeters away from the other’s mouths. Slowly, Izzy pried her hand out of Ed’s pants and brought it to her own mouth to clean, close enough that Ed could almost taste herself on Izzy’s skin and breath. Ed inhaled, trembling, squeezing Izzy’s firm upper arm at the sight.
Once her hand was clean, Izzy pulled herself away from Ed and turned around without looking at her. She stepped away, grabbing something from her bed and extending it towards Ed.
“Here,” Ed’s eyes focused on the object: a spool of dark thread with a needle stabbed through it. “You should stitch yourself up, before anyone else gets the same idea as me.”
Ed snorted, feeling lighter and happier than she has in years with her sweat and cum still drying on her skin, and took the thread from Izzy’s waiting hand.