Disclaimer: If you recognize it/him/her, it is not mine (belongs to A & E). Plot, fanciful descriptions and otherwise, however, all mine!

HORATIO HORNBLOWER: THE PIRATE QUEEN

Chapter One: Hurricane

The pirate ship Hurricane was not well known in these waters—the coast of England being so crowded with various naval frigates that piracy rarely ventured close to the Foggy Island. Therefore, when a spindly bow and narrow black ship quietly nudged into the harbor at Portsmouth, no one paid it much mind. In fact, it was not acknowledged as a ship at all. For, what was a ship that had no sails?

Captain Hornblower paused in his reports to look out the window. The water was calm and gulls swirled overhead in lazy sweeps—it was a sweet and picturesque harbor, save for a single black presence among the smaller fishing boats: the only black ship docked, or, for that matter the only black ship that he had ever seen.

When he noticed the vessel docked nearly a week ago, he dismissed it as wreckage, perhaps a merchant ship that met with the French fleet further offshore and out of range of British defense canons. It certainly looked like it had gone through battle. But that explanation rang false, for one, the ship was long and narrow, too much for a merchant transport, it had the general bow structure of clippers for speed, but the hull of a frigate. As for its guns...well, none that he could see, but it was hard to tell for sure what with the entire ship a dense, velvet black. A second inspection revealed that there was significant damage to the stern, one of the topsail masts had been knocked off (not that it mattered, there were no sails to speak of), and judging by the way the ship had drifted haphazardly into harbor, it was likely that the rudder and steering system may have been damaged as well.

Lately, with each passing day, he was growing increasingly concerned. What did happen to the sails? Where was the crew of such a dismal looking ship? And where was the captain for that matter? How did the ship even really get here?

Unmindful of the captain's questions, the ship Hurricane floated quietly in the Portsmouth harbor, biding her time. She was a hardy and patient ship—her mistress would come soon, she knew it.

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Captain Isabelle Du Lac did not appreciate being kept waiting, and having spent the past four months stuck in a Spanish cell, particularly did not appreciate being kept waiting even longer. But the tavern was boisterous and crowded and she supposed that it was likely the other party was having the same trouble finding her as she him.

Grabbing a mug of ale, she sighed and slid down into an empty table on the edge away from the majority of the crowd. She would wait for him to come to her, eventually he would, they all did: she was easy to spot among people.

It wasn't a terribly long wait.

He approached the table cautiously, even though this was a planned, agreed meeting, he was still wary of the captain and unwilling to arouse her suspicions or her famous temper. It was harder than anticipated to find her, there was a fighting competition earlier, and supporters of the champion had overrun the tavern. He stood, in a hesitant poise above the captain. She was sleeping and he took a moment to observe.

He was told that the captain was a beautiful, but terrible woman, and in the dimness of the tavern he finally understood what people meant by that. There was the glowing skin, the fine bone structure and tumbling brown hair. And then...no, for all her beauty, Isabelle Du Lac could not overcome the drooped and stretched scar across her face, where the burn tissue was slick with a hard shine. Although...although, the man had seen burn scars before, and there was something odd about this one. What, he really could not say.

A brisk light tap and Isabelle Du Lac jerked awake.

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"This is getting ridiculous." Horatio sighed, "The damn wreck's been in harbor for over a week, the admiralty is starting to notice..., and with no one knowing the vessel's origin, and unpaid docking fees it's more or less a burden on the navy, not to mention a sore sight".

"Sir, have you gone aboard or made some inquiry around the docks?" Lt. William Bush asked, eyes flitting as he watched Horatio pace about the small office.

"No, I haven't had time, with the report from our last commission and trying..." Horatio sighed in frustration, "Trying to restock the Hotspur. It almost cannot be done what with five other naval frigates restocking as well. No, none of those are excuses, I could have found the time, it's simply...well something Mathews mentioned rather, in passing."

"Mathews?"

"Yes...he said—he said that he recognized the bow on that ship, when he was stationed off the West Indies, he swears it's the Hurricane."

"The Du Lac pirate ship?" Bush arched a brow. "But's that's impossible. The Hurricane sank a month ago, off San Domingo. Captain Hutch reported it in."

"Yes, I know, that's why I found Mathews' statement disturbing. But you know Hutch, it's likely that he didn't even—" Horatio was interrupted by knock at the door. "Come in."

At his reply, young Midshipman Orrock entered, and stated: "Lt. Cornic's compliments sir, but the black ship in the harbor sir, its docking fees have been paid for and a Lord Edrington has come to remove it from your care."

"Edrington? What's he—what does he mean my care?" Horatio spluttered momentarily at a loss in front of his junior officer. "Ahem, very well, please tell Lord Edrington that I will be out shortly."

Orrock nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

"Sir?"

"What does he mean? What—" Horatio frowned, "It's no use fretting, hm, better go see what Edrington is about this time. Mr. Bush, ask the crew to get going with the shipyard men and hurry up the supplies stock. The next commission should be announced this afternoon, today," and he stepped out of the room, a bit distracted without waiting for his first Lieutenant's answer.

"Yes, sir." Bush replied slightly amused at his Captain.

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As Horatio rounded the bend of the shipyard towards the wharf, he felt a sense of apprehension, and he shivered a little. Whatever Lord Edrington was 'up to', if indeed he was up to any such thing at all, was not going to please him.

The man standing in full dress uniform had not aged a day it seemed. The last time Horatio saw him, he had been dazed with Mariette's death but could still easily pick out, to his bitterness at how little of world changed with her passing, the crisp lines and bright red of the Major's tall form. Of course, it was Colonel Edrington now, he had been recognized soon after their excursion with the French Colonel and then his bravery and tactics at the seizure of the Cape of Good Hope had garnered another promotion. And now, the man before him stood with that familiar stiff posture and slightly haughty expression, the only differences were the three additional stars on his insignia, and the extra lace and embroidering that decorated his uniform.

"Captain Hornblower, I see you've acquired a ship of your own. Keeping busy, I presume." Edrington's features lightened in a greeting smile.

"Lord Edrington, you bastard! Why on—" Here Horatio stopped, flustered. A young lady stood just behind Edrington's left shoulder, one amber eye peering over at him.