Her boots hit the deck and she smiled as she heard the leader following her, leading him up onto the stern deck and turning to watch his approach and observe the others.
Scar face was climbing down and unarmed had pulled nondescript up from the side of the ship. Targets was still unable to walk, trying to encourage his healing to seal up the wound.
That gave her time to deal with the leader and she waited patiently for him to join her.
"Having fun?" he asked as he approached and she grinned.
"Nothing like a good assassination attempt to get the blood flowing," she replied, making a note of scar face's recovery as he clutched himself and wheezed. The frost seemed to have stopped while its maker was trying to help target with nondescript.
"Why elves?" she asked as the leader's pace slowed at her waiting for him, taking him in with his long skirt that had been tied at his right hip, trailing to the ground and leaving one leg exposed. It had been bunched around his left ankle and bound there, making it look more like half a pair of green pants than a skirt.
"We work for Megara," he said conversationally and she nodded.
"Megara sent you?" she asked curiously, her eyes lingering on the circular pattern on his chest, partially covered by the strap that held his arm guard in place.
"No, we came on our own. But we don't feel she would disapprove."
She laughed gently, making him frown.
"No, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to find out her band of assassins went and tried to assassinate the rightful Queen. I'm sure that news will go down really well."
His smile was angry, they both knew she was right.
"Unless the rightful Queen just suddenly vanishes without a trace."
They both stopped at an enormous boom from below the decks and she smiled slightly, amused at the mental image of Daemon losing his cool.
"But that doesn't tend to happen," she said and turned back to him, watching his slow approach out of the corner of her eye while he thought she was distracted.
Scar face seemed to have recovered as well and was making an attempt to come up behind her.
"It will this time. A tragic accident with their ship going down at sea."
"That's not very nice. I really don't like the ocean and would prefer if you didn't try and drown me."
"I wasn't going to drown you. You'll be dead before you reach the water."
"Are you trying to scare me or turn me on?" she quipped making him pause, confused.
She was amused when he glanced down at her, the same reaction most men had when she reminded them that she was a woman. When it came to fighting, one often forgot the sex of their foe. He took in the dress and ripped fabric that revealed the tops of her hips and the bottom of her ribcage, her long hair lifting in the breeze.
He shook his head, meeting her eyes and her wicked smile, making him glare at her.
She took advantage of his momentary distraction and lunged for him, a heavy overarm blow and her free hand reached behind her for the second knife, using it to slice cleanly across his gut.
Spinning, she threw the bloodied knife at scar face and it caught him in the side.
Both men went down and as the leader did, she bounced back up and drove her knee up into his face, throwing him backwards onto the ground.
Stepping over him, she kicked his side and then ducked as something came whizzing towards her, flying past and then exploding in the ocean several metres behind the ship.
Straightening, she looked to the bow of the ship and the unarmed man had geared up for another ball of whatever magic he was throwing.
Lifting her knife, she glanced down at the leader and cursed as he grabbed her ankle, yanking her leg out from under her.
She landed hard on her knee and rolled, swearing at herself for becoming distracted, only to find his grip was tight on her.
Flipping over onto her back, she growled as he began crawling up towards her, bloody and grinning. At least he had been until she smashed her boot into his face and she felt his nose breaking.
He let go of her and she rolled to avoid scar face's boot aimed for her side.
Looking up, she found nondescript looming over her, a very large and angry looking bruise forming around his neck.
"Nice necklace," she said, earning her a boot to the ribcage and she felt all the air leaving her lungs.
She ignored it, instead rolling with the kick and throwing herself up onto her feet only to lift one hand up in a gesture for them to wait and then bending forward, heaving in a breath.
They waited, oddly enough, until she got her breath back and she straightened, only to duck again when another ball of something flew over her head.
Scar face moved as she straightened a second time and his fist found her sternum, throwing her back into the railing and knocking the air out of her a second time.
He followed after her, sword raised and bringing it down, the blade lodging in the wood of the railing as she threw herself sideways and into the leader.
He grinned as his sharp fingers curled around her throat and she immediately went for the cheap shot, though he was prepared, using his trident handle to block her attempt to kick his groin.
His fingers clenched around her throat and she hissed, her empty hand reaching for his fingers to try and pry them off her.
Laughing, nondescript appeared at her side, then darted back again when she tried to stick her knife in his stomach.
Her eyes locked with the leader's and she offered him a faint smile as she tapped into the flame that was buried deep inside her and screamed for it, her body erupting into golden flames.
It lasted only a second, but it was enough to get him to let her go and she turned, not expecting the next magical attack from the unarmed man and it hit her squarely in the chest.
Landing hard on her back, she gasped as cold flooded through her and she rolled to avoid another boot, finding her hands empty and having no idea where her knife had gone.
She could barely breathe, clutching at her chest and again she rolled, not sure of who it was that was coming after her.
Flinging herself to her feet, she staggered and sucked in a breath through her teeth, the coldness burning through her flesh to leave a large black mark that spread out in tiny veins as the coldness inched its way out of the strike point.
The unarmed man whooped in triumph as she staggered backwards, holding onto the railing for support.
Her racing heart was sending the ice faster through her and she cursed, realising she had tapped into the flame too early and would have to hope that it was able to heat her up before the cold spread too far.
The leader had been burnt in her flame, but it only seemed to make him angry and he stomped after her, followed closely by scar face and nondescript. It appeared that targets had been forced to retreat, his bleeding leg making him weak.
Backing slightly, she pressed her hand to her chest and found the skin there to be freezing cold, burning her hand and she hissed.
"Don't suppose you'll take a surrender?" she asked, her breath escaping her in a little cloud of mist.
The leader only smiled at her grimly, the three men spreading out around her to guard her retreat.