AN: This was written for the unconventional courtship challenge in which you take one of those romance novels and basically rewrite it for your fandom. Feeling there's not enough pirate AG in this world, here's mine. :D

It started with a whisper, then the voices got louder, more excited, until a young boy ran towards the town square yelling, "Excalibur! I see the Excalibur!"

A group of young children, too young to understand the dangers, rushed to the port and watched as the large ship with its readily recognizable red flag sailed past in the distance. Within moments, their parents hustled them back home.

"The most vicious pirate sails the Excalibur," one mother said to her child. "We don't want to draw their attention."

A shadow fell over her and Gwen moved the arm covering her face, squinting her eyes against the glare of the sun.

"Are you sure you should be out here? You know how easily you burn," muttered Gwen.

Ignoring her words, Merlin flopped onto the deck next to her and stretched out. "I'm bored."

"What happened to your invisibility experiment?" Her arm fell back across her face, protecting her eyes as she wriggled her toes. After the weeks of lashing rain, Gwen was determined to soak up as much sun as possible. She missed the smell of the ocean and the feel of the ship rocking gently beneath her.

"Yeah, that wasn't going too well."

"You haven't blown up your bunk again, have you?" Gwen felt Merlin shift, probably to make himself more comfortable. He was all skin and bones and the hard wooden floor never provided him much comfort.

"That happened 3 years ago. Can we put it behind us?"

Gwen turned her face to look at him, frowning. "Nope. I can still remember the splinters I received repairing that hole. It's a good thing Dad didn't make you walk the plank."

"That wouldn't have been much use, seeing that Killy would probably just come rescue me." Merlin sighed loudly. "You would think running away to be a pirate would be fun. It just seems like long days of sunbathing to me. What are we? The pirates who don't do anything?"

Gwen was feeling far too lazy to move, but she did swing her leg so that it connected nicely with
Merlin's ankle, then she smiled at his indignant yelp. "We did have that little fishing boat incident last week."

"Ah, that was fun. The frightened faces, the quivering knees, the crying children."

"Say what you want, Merlin. You'll never convince me that you'll make a halfway decent pirate. I have it on good authority that you even put in extra cushions on the boat after you fixed it." Disapproval crept into Gwen's voice. "That was risky."

Merlin laughed. "They were so afraid of you, they wouldn't have noticed those cushions. And please, putting extra cushions is nothing compared to the fact that you basically risked our ship to rescue them from the storm."

"We could let them die at sea!"

"No, we couldn't. Which is why I am utterly amazed every moment of how you maintain your reputation as the scourge of the seven seas."

Gwen rolled her eyes, not that Merlin could see. "I don't even know where these seven seas are and people want to see what they see. I just help them along."

"Never thought of landing at some island port, finding a nice man to marry and settling down?" Merlin teased, knowing her answer very well after all these years of friendship.

"The only thing marriage is good for is heart break and after you-know-who, I've sworn off all men. And I've the Excalibur, you, the sun, the sea and mostly importantly, my freedom. What more do I need?" She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I'm hungry and it's almost lunch time. Don't you have fishing to do?"

"Aye, aye captain." Gwen heard Merlin scramble up from beside her, then his heavy footsteps slowly petered out, leaving her alone. Cracking open her eyes, she looked up at the flag hoisted high above the ship, fluttering in the sky. She hated it but it seemed that it was tradition that every pirate worth their salt had a skull and crossbones on their flag. At least hers was red and not boring black like every other pirate she had the misfortune to meet on her journeys.

"Captain Gwen."

With a sigh, Gwen sat up. Couldn't a pirate captain sunbathe in peace anymore? "What is it, Percy?"

"There's a ship on fire in a distance."

Shading her eyes, Gwen stood and scoured the horizons. Smoke bellowed in the distance and Gwen sighed. All her years on the sea and the biggest accident she'd been in was when Merlin blew a hole through his bunk. Why couldn't all these people take more care with their ships? "Right. I guess we should go see what's happening."

"There's more." Percy stood next to her, his spyglass loosely held in one hand. "It flies the Pendragon flag."

He saw the bright red flag before he saw the pirate skull and he knew his day was only going to get worse. He'd consider it a success if all he lost was his ship. All around him, his men ran around in some sort of controlled panic as they frantically tried to put out the fire that had erupted in the galley.

"What do you want us to do?" Leon asked, the undercurrent of panic in his voice, evidence that he too noticed the approaching ship. Arthur didn't blame him. No one sailing the Garnet Sea wanted to cross paths with Captain Guinevere and those who lived to tell the tale of their encounter refused to talk about it except to agree that she was best avoided at all costs.

"There's a fire burning. We don't have much choice." Even as he said those words, Arthur could feel fear curl her cold fingers round his heart. When he'd volunteered to join the crew of the Aithusa, he'd imagined a few months away from his overbearing father, a few months of freedom before returning to a marriage his father had arranged and a life tied to Camelot. Now, he was going to die – either at the hands of an unforgiving sea or the most vicious pirate who roamed the Garnet Sea.

He turned to Leon. "Gather Gwaine and his men and load the guns. We're not going down without a fight."

"Of course, my lord." With a quick bow, Leon walked away. From the quarterdeck, Arthur scanned the ship. A little more time and fire might have been tamed, but with Excalibur approaching, time was no longer something they had. The deckhands would continue to fight the fire but the rest of his men would have to be prepared to fight something worse. With a sigh, he grabbed his sword, kept his eyes on the approaching pirate ship and prayed that their firepower would be enough to keep her at bay.

Arthur paced the gunwalls, checking that everything was loaded correctly. From where he stood, he could see a figure on The Excalibur's quarterdeck. The figure was slighter than he expected, yet it stood confidently staring out at his ship. For a brief moment, Arthur felt their eyes meet and a shiver ran through him, but that was foolish. The Excalibur was still too far away.

"On my count," he said, his voice battling the roar of the fire and the crash of the waves. "On my count, we fire! Understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

The Excalibur approached slowly, the red flag flying almost mockingly in the wind. Red – to symbolize all the blood of the men who'd Captain Guinevere had killed over the years since she inherited the ship from her father.

"Now!" Arthur yelled, raising his sword. The ship rocked violently under him as the guns fired into The Excalibur. Part of the Royal Navy, Aithusa was equipped with the latest firearms but as Arthur watched with dawning horror, the Excalibur simply repelled the shots fired at it.

So it was true, Arthur realized. All those stories of the Excalibur being magic. Arthur had long thought that they were yarns, made up by men who couldn't accept defeat by a lass. That cold hand around his heart only tightened its grip.

"Hold your fire. Move back."

Slowly, but surely, the Excalibur drew up to them and for the first time in his life, Arthur Pendragon lay eyes on the infamous Captain Guinevere. One leg leaning against the side of the ship, arms crossed in front of her, her cutlass hanging from her hip, she watched passively as her ship neared his.

For years, Arthur had heard tales of her, some told of a pirate so beautiful she enchanted all the men who looked upon her face. Others told of a pirate so loathsome, as if her every sin were etched on her face. But now, as he looked at her, he realized she was neither of those.

She was dressed in tight breeches and shirt, tight enough that he could see her curves, from the roundness of her breasts to the slight curve of her hips. A bandana was tied around her head, preventing her long, dark curls from flying in the wind. She wasn't anything like he imagined. Unlike the ladies of the court, she was not delicate or fair. Her skin, dark even without the sun's influence, glowed with good health and he could see the strength in the way she held herself. Despite that, her face was deceivingly innocent and when, finally, her eyes met his, he was taken aback by the deep brown depths. No, Captain Guinevere wasn't gorgeous like Lady Mithian, his soon-to-be wife, yet mixed in with the fear he had been feeling for quite a while, was the very definite pull of attraction.

His death was imminent, and here he was thinking about how strangely attractive his executioner was. A wry smile crossed his face.

Percy lowered the gangplank and Gwen strode across to the main deck of the Aithusa. A group of men had gathered on the deck, all with familiar expressions of fear and defiance all over their faces. All except one – a blonde man, dressed in the same worn clothes as the rest, whose eyes she could feel roam over her body. His gaze made her body tingle, a feeling she hadn't encountered since the days of Lancelot. And when their eyes met, it felt as if a current went through her. For the first time in months, she felt a nervous flutter in her stomach.

"Who's in charge here?" Casually, she moved her hand to her cutlass.

The blonde man, with his intent blue gaze, took a step forward. "I am."

Since he had no qualms examining her, Gwen did the same, letting her eyes travel over him, from top to toe. He was handsome, she had to admit but the blonde, blue eyed ones weren't really her type. While his clothes looked like they had seen better days, they fit well, hugging his broad chest. Her eyes flicked back to his and noted that unlike the first time, his eyes were darker and shuttered. A smile played on his lips.

"You find it funny? That this might be the last day of your life?" Gwen asked, slowly pulling out her cutlass. From the corner of her eyes, she saw his men take a step back. Footsteps at her back told her that Merlin had joined her.

The blonde shook his head. "I was wondering, where is your parrot?"

"Do you also wonder why I have two hands?" Gwen quirked an eyebrow, torn between amusement at his question and annoyance at his lack of respect. Merlin coughed softly. "Your ship, if you haven't noticed is on fire. And," she nodded towards the blaze, "it appears to be getting bigger. And your crew has stopped putting it out."

"It appears that we are doomed either way," said the man. "What do you want?"

Another dark-haired man stepped forward. Unlike the blonde, he held his sword up threateningly. Emboldened by him, a number of men moved forward again. "We won't go down without a fight."

The blonde raised a hand, holding the other man back.

She glanced at the Pendragon crest flying from the mast, high and proud, uncaring about the conflict on the deck. The last time she'd seen the Pendragon crest, it had been the day her father was killed. Sucking in a breath, she kept her eyes on the captain.

"Merlin, you might as well make yourself useful and put out the fire. And Elena, get the crew to tie them all up."

The dark-haired man lunged forward together with a handful of others. Her own crew surged forward as well. Gwen immediately grabbed their captain, her cutlass slicing against his upper arm, eliciting a yell from him. His own sword was unsheathed but he'd been taken by surprise and was held tightly by Gwen before he could react, her cutlass dangerously close to his neck.

"Don't make me kill your captain now!"

The scuffle on the deck stopped at once. Percy held two men by their collars while Elena had a sword at another's throat. The dark-haired man raised his hand in surrender, dropping his sword to the deck.

"Now tie them up," she snapped. "And put out the damn fire."

With a hiss, the fire suddenly went out. Merlin shrugged when Gwen met his eyes. She shook her head. Using magic in front of people associated with the Pendragons was a death sentence. Merlin was far too cocky about her reputation.

"Magic," gasped the captain.

"And now you know my secrets."

"I suspected," he choked out. "What do you want from us?"

Pulling tightly at the knot she tied, she pushed the captain onto the deck. His sword, she took and tossed it behind her. He stumbled a little, then landed on his knees, arms tied behind his back and glared up at her. "What do you want," he asked again.

"I'm sure you've heard stories about me," she said, surveying the men in front of her.

The dark-haired man spat. "You're going to kill us all and take our ship. What are you waiting for?"

Merlin suddenly moved over to her, whispering into her ear. "The captain is Arthur Pendragon, the crown prince."

Shocked, Gwen pulled Merlin further away. "Are you sure?"

"He is wearing the royal signet - only Lady Morgana, Prince Arthur and King Uther wear it. What - Gwen!"

Without waiting for Merlin to continue, Gwen marched back to the kneeling prince. After all this time. "It's far too much trouble to kill all of you and your ship is too damaged to be worth anything. Pendragon is what I'm going to do. I'm going to take your captain as trophy and the rest of you can take your pathetic ship and leave."

Merlin frowned while Percy and Elena stared at her. She ignored them, walked over to the captain and yanked him to his feet. "Resist," she muttered, "and I will set your whole ship on fire."

"My father -"

"I know who your father is, my lord," she interrupted, then pushed him onto the gangplank. "Let's go. Leave them tied up, I'm sure they will free themselves soon enough."

Gwen stood on the quarterdeck and stared out at the horizon. Her fingers curled around the railing as the cold wind buffeted her face. Regret was already creeping into her heart like the night chill.

"Percy put the prince in the hold. I've also ensured that the Aithusa will land safely." Merlin voice was neutral but Gwen wasn't foolish enough to believe he wasn't questioning her actions from earlier.

"You think I was being foolhardy."

Merlin leaned on the railings, his sigh carried on the wind. "The whole Pendragon navy will be after you."

"It's not like we can't take them on."

A raised eyebrow. "You mean, it's not like Merlin and Killy can't take them on. And a war will entail casualties. A war this size, too many casualties."

She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I should have consulted you. But when you told me he was Uther's son, I just - I guess I just wanted revenge."

"Revenge. I never thought I would hear that word coming from you."

"Neither did I. Neither did I." She pushed herself away from the railings. "I'm going to ask for a ransom. If Uther is sensible, he'll pay it and we can send the prince back and that would be that."

"Let's hope so." Merlin didn't sound convinced. And frankly, neither was she. "What's done is done. Dinner should be ready. Come on."

Arthur could feel the sweat rolling down his back. The shackles were heavy against his wrists, cutting into his skin. Captain Guinevere's large bodyguard had dragged him down here, secured him to a metal rod on the ground then left him all alone, with nothing but the sound of his own harsh breaths. He'd expected the place to smell of death - god knows how many men she'd imprisoned down here - but aside from the familiar scent of damp wood and spices, there was no lingering stench of blood or decay. It was disconcerting. As disconcerting as the fact that instead of plundering his well-stocked ship, she'd simply put out the fire and let them go. Let them all go, except him.

In the silence, his stomach rumbled. Was he going to starve to death here in the dark hold of the Excalibur? Or would his wound, left untreated, get infected then slowly kill him? He wondered if Aithusa was still seaworthy and if so, how long it would be before she reached Camelot and his father alerted to his plight. Would Captain Guinevere have had him killed by then? Or would she slowly torture him until his body and mind could take it no longer as revenge?

He was still pondering his fate when he heard the door to the hold creak open and a shaft of light cut through the darkness.

The footsteps were light. Not the bodyguard then. Perhaps the other lady pirate or the magical one. But as the figure came nearer, he knew who it was. The captain herself. He watched as she made her way to him, watched the way her hips moved from side to side. Her hair was tied up this time and her face was tight with tension.

"Here. Dinner." Thrusting out her arm, she held out a bowl.

He snorted. "I'm kinda trapped here. You'll just have to feed me."

"Your insolence doesn't amuse me," she snapped, even as she placed the bowl on the ground beside him, dug into her pockets and retrieved a key. Leaning over him, she began to unlock his shackles. Her unexpected nearness startled him and he sucked in a breath, a foolish action as all he got was a lungful of her scent – a mix of seawater, flowers and sweat. Her hair tickled his chin and from this distance, he realized that she had a sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks and nose. With her long lashes, the slight bite of her lip as she worked the key and her warm breath that ghosted across his arms, Arthur once again felt that unwelcomed tug of attraction.

She was a dangerous pirate, he reminded himself, no matter how her proximity made her heart race.

With a satisfying click, the shackles fell open and Arthur felt a lick of cool breeze against his sore wrists. She lifted her head and their eyes locked. She was too close, so close that all Arthur had to do was lean forwards slightly, and he'd be able to taste those lips, learn what her dusky skin felt like. Her wide brown eyes held an innocence that was incongruous to her reputation, inviting him to drown in them.

Her reputation. This was probably all a game to her.

With a jerk, he pulled back, dropping his gaze to his swollen wrists.

She pushed the bowl closer to him. "Eat up," she said before she stood, then stalked out of the hold. He wondered if he imagined the tremble in her voice. It took a while before his heart settled.

When the door to the hold opened again, just as he scraped up the last bit of tasteless gruel, he half-expected - wanted, if he was honest with himself - the Captain to return but it was just her large bodyguard, the one she called Percy.

"Come."

Arthur stood. Now that he was no longer chained, he briefly considered fighting his way to freedom, except he was one man without a weapon and while he might be able to take on the bodyguard, he was defenseless against magic. "Where are we going?"

Silently, Percy cuffed his wrists causing Arthur to wince at the metal sliding across his tender skin. "The Captain has arranged sleeping quarters for you."

Percy spoke with little inflection and Arthur was left to wonder as he walked in front if he was being serious. Why would Captain Guinevere provide him with sleeping quarters? What was she up to? Perhaps sleeping quarters was a euphemism for a torture chamber? He'd heard stories of the existence of an extensive torture chamber in her ship.

Unceremoniously, Arthur was shoved into a small room. Unlike the hold, there was a small window and a tiny bed Arthur knew wouldn't be very comfortable.

"I'm going to take off your shackles," intoned Percy. "Don't do anything foolish."

"What is she planning to do with me?" Arthur asked as he held out his arms.

Percy merely shrugged. "Whatever she wants. There will be a guard outside your room. Try to escape and you'll forfeit your life."

"My father -"

Something flashed in Percy's eyes. "Your father killed Captain Guinevere's father. You should count yourself lucky you still breathe." The cuffs in his hands, Percy shot him one last glare, then left the room, slamming the door behind him.

The bed was as uncomfortable as it looked and his wound still throbbed and burned. His wrists were sore to the touch. Yet, Arthur fell asleep easily, exhaustion from the day's events taking over his body.