Fight

She had had just about enough of this. She stood and turned to the voice, her sword in one hand, that arm across her chest, her other hand gripping her bow, arrows and her skirt. ‘Which is it? Freeze or put my hands in the air? You can’t have both.’

{If Tom = 1}She couldn’t believe her dumb luck. It was Tom, the man from yesterday morning. ‘Oh, give me a fucking break,’ she said.

He smiled. ‘Your Highness, we meet again.’ The staring man and the other one were stood either side of him. ‘I almost didn’t recognise you, I like what you’ve done with your outfit.’{else}There were three of them, all carrying swords and dressed in cloth outfits with tan leather pads. The middle one smiled menacingly at her. The one on the right was just staring, wide-eyed. The one on the left spoke quietly to the middle one. ‘Tom, I think this is Negana. We should take her back to camp.’{endif}

‘I said, put your hands in the air,’ Tom ordered. ‘We are taking you in. I think our queen will be very pleased with us.’

‘Just you three?’ she mocked them. She dropped the sword, poked three arrows into her boot and notched the fourth. ‘You should have brought backup.’ She was feeling very badass all of a sudden, even with her skirt about to fall down and her boobs on show as she drew back the bow.

She knew all three of them were staring at her breasts. Especially the tall staring man, who made no attempt to look anywhere else. She was going to kill him first, she decided.

Tom laughed. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’ On the word ‘dare’ Emily loosed her arrow which hit the staring man in the middle of the chest, bouncing off harmlessly. ‘Oh, fuck it,’ he grumbled, laying down on the floor. By the time Tom and the other one looked back from their fallen friend she had another arrow ready to fly.

‘Maybe it’s you who will be coming with me, Tom.’ She fired at the other guy, again hitting him right in the chest. She was really impressing herself with this bow and arrow, that was three hits for three shots.

This time Tom didn’t hesitate, he raised his sword and ran at her. She pulled the remaining two arrows from her boot and dropped them as she knelt to pick up her sword. Tom swung at her but she rolled out of the way, trying not to focus on the fact that her skirt really wasn’t made for moves like that.

Negana stood tall as Tom regained his balance. She raised her sword, ready to fight, and he advanced, more carefully this time. He swung at her left leg, but she held her sword down to block his attack. He tried an overhead blow but she raised her weapon, holding it horizontally, blocking him again. As he drew back for another swipe she swung low, hitting his right leg. He was surprised by this and stepped back.

Tom lunged forward but she easily sidestepped his thrust, and turned as he passed her. She could almost see this in slow motion, as if she were in a film: he passed her, over-balanced again, and she spun around beside him swinging her sword and hitting him on the right leg again. This would be so cool to watch, she thought, except of course she wished her big boobs were not jiggling around freely with every move she made.

‘Tom,’ said the other guy, the second one she had killed, ‘that’s two hits on your leg. You’re down.’ He and the staring man were watching the fight. Emily thought they must be very impressed with my sword skills, they can’t take their eyes off me.

‘It was worth it,’ said Tom, laughing and holding up a scrap of white cloth. He ripped it down the middle, then ripped it again and stuffed the pieces under his armour. ‘A souvenir,’ he said. Negana at first had no idea what he was talking about. She moved to pull up her skirt before attacking him again – it wasn’t there! Oh shit, that piece of cloth he had ripped up. Emily suddenly realised what had happened and tried to cover herself. How had he even done that without her feeling it? Had she been that engrossed in her Conan the Barbarian moves she actually hadn’t noticed her skirt being ripped off? Tom was laughing at her. Her blood began to boil. How dare he? Negana screamed a war cry and charged him as he kneeled down. She was too good for him, and now he had lost a leg she had soon cut off both of his arms.

Before she killed Tom she reached under his armour to retrieve her skirt. She found three pieces, but it was now completely useless as anything other than a belt. She dropped the scraps of cloth on the floor. ‘You, Tom, are not a very nice man,’ she said, and drew her rubber sword across his throat.