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15minuteficlets...
Elizabeth held her head high as she was escorted down the passageway to the Great Cabin, where Barbossa was waiting. The dress she’d been given was unlike any she’d ever worn. It was cut in a style that an older woman would wear, and perhaps not a lady. It was designed for seduction, the bodice cut low, the fabric heavy and sensual. It hugged like a lover’s embrace where the dress was closely fitted, slid and swirled like waves where it was not. The color of it, that deep, deep red, spoke of a challenge, an invitation. A feast for the senses of wearer and admirer. She could not help wondering where her captor had acquired it, speculations that were edged with dread, and it made her vastly uncomfortable to think that she was to dine with him, alone, dressed in such a garment.
As they approached the door, she stiffened her resolve. The door was opened for her, and she walked in, to a blaze of candles and a table laden with such a decadent display of food that for a moment she could only gape.
“Ah, Miss Turner,” said her host, emerging eerily from the shadows beyond the table. “Welcome to the feast.”
~.~
15minuteficlets...Feast
Elizabeth held her head high as she was escorted down the passageway to the Great Cabin, where Barbossa was waiting. The dress she’d been given was unlike any she’d ever worn. It was cut in a style that an older woman would wear, and perhaps not a lady. It was designed for seduction, the bodice cut low, the fabric heavy and sensual. It hugged like a lover’s embrace where the dress was closely fitted, slid and swirled like waves where it was not. The color of it, that deep, deep red, spoke of a challenge, an invitation. A feast for the senses of wearer and admirer. She could not help wondering where her captor had acquired it, speculations that were edged with dread, and it made her vastly uncomfortable to think that she was to dine with him, alone, dressed in such a garment.
As they approached the door, she stiffened her resolve. The door was opened for her, and she walked in, to a blaze of candles and a table laden with such a decadent display of food that for a moment she could only gape.
“Ah, Miss Turner,” said her host, emerging eerily from the shadows beyond the table. “Welcome to the feast.”
~.~
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Date: 2005-11-25 09:33 am (UTC)Your Barbossa icon is great! I need one of him.