Swords ring with the deafening scream of metal against metal, men cry out as blade meets flesh, but that is not what draws my eye as battle dances around me. Some might say it heartless, watching her as she fights like a Fury, matching the strokes from men twice her size with a ferocity that makes my heart swell with a strange pride, and not a little lust. But it is not so; it is not lack of emotion, but an over abundance. An absolute certainty that the life of the woman I love shall not be ended at the point of a sword. No, that will not be her fate. What it shall be, I know not. But my one and only certainty is that whatever that fate may be, it shall be extraordinary, like the love I bear for her; now, and into the shades of what lies beyond this life. She was plunder I did not seek, my greatest treasure, one I could not relinquish despite my ever so temporary best intentions. It is a strange thing that a man such as I could merit such a woman, such a love. She would scold me for such thoughts, choosing only to see the man I want her to, even knowing the man I truly am. She seems to sense my thoughts, as she often does, her ice blue eyes meeting mine across the field of battle, the smoke of cannon and musket drifting between us like a morning fog. Then she smiles, and the sounds of mayhem fade away, leaving only us two. My heart, my treasure, my bonnie lass; could a pirate ask for more?