Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The Prelude

Part Two

With raven curls that bounced as she tottered about, porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, and bright blue eyes, Elena Monroe was beautiful. She was a perfect baby girl, healthy and well-loved from the moment of her birth. Even as the queen watched her son Richard toss the two-year-old child in the air, her heart swelled with love and pride for her family. While Theresa's warning and instructions had not been forgotten, Maegan could not help but delight in the few years in which her newest daughter was too young to undergo any sort of training that went beyond that of normal children. It was during these years that the queen and her family could live in peaceful bliss and normality, untroubled by what the future might have held.

On this particular morning, the sky was gray and dismal and threatened bustling Bowerstone with a storm. So, like the rest of the city, the royal family opted to stay indoors to wait out the coming rain. The children were scattered about the castle-Logan and Angela had run off to cause havoc in the library, their father in tow; gentle Anne was in the servants' section of the castle, where she had befriended many of the workers over the years; and Martin was down in the training hall with Sir Walter Beck, doing their regular mock-duals and going about princely lessons. Maegan, her eldest son, and the youngest child had settled down in the study. Richard had meant to begin reading a lengthy history book on the wars and tactics of the many prior kings of Albion, but was soon distracted by Elena's persistent wish to play. He had been all too ready to oblige, and his mother didn't have the heart to order him back to his studies.

As she watched her children prance about the room in a game of chase from her spot in her over-sized leather chair, the queen let her mind wander back to her past. The room itself was the culprit for these dark thoughts, for it had remained much the same as that fateful night of her sister's passing. She took comfort in knowing that Rose was now alive and well, thanks to her wish at the Spire, but it was a painful memory regardless. She gave her head a mental shake and assured herself that the past was over and done with, and concentrated again on the young man and child before her.

It was not long before Richard was thoroughly exhausted, and he plopped down cross-legged on the hard-wood floor and ran a tanned hand through his black locks. "The little tyke's got more energy than I can handle!" he laughed. Despite his learned speech and the ponytail, he reminded the queen much of his father. He was the prince, but he had the look and air of a gypsy about him, and a personality to match. He was happy, fun-loving, and his mother couldn't have been more proud of him. "I don't know how you do it, Mum. Six kids are quite the handful."

"It's easy when they're all good kids," she replied, just as little Elena tottered over to her and stretched out her pudgy baby arms.

"Up!" the child demanded, standing on the balls of her feet to emphasize her point.

"What do you say?" Maegan asked in the teasing way mothers always do.

"Peas?"

With a light chuckle at the miss-pronunciation , she picked up her daughter and set her in her lap before playing with her dark curls. "Why is it that you all have your daddy's hair? Well, Martin has Rose's…"

"Anne has blonde hair," Richard remarked.

"Yeah, and I have no idea where she got that from."

"My, my, you have been busy, haven't you?" Maegan leapt up at the familiar, annoyingly charming voice that sounded from the doorway, her eyes round as saucers and filled with shock and fury. The intruder flashed her his best trademark grin. "Hello, dove."

"REAVER!" Maegan snarled, "What in Avo's name do you think you're doing?"

The handsome man feigned a hurt expression. "Why, I'm visiting! It's been years, and I haven't received one letter! I go on vacation for a couple of years and all of my friends abandon me. What else was I supposed to do? I couldn't very well just let things be-"

"How did you even get in here?" the queen interrupted, ignoring the pirate's sarcasm and Elena's sudden sobbing. "I am not taking visitors!"

"Yes, well, that's what the elderly gent at the front said, but after a little persuasion-"

"Oh my-You KILLED Jasper?"

"I wouldn't say that. 'Killed' is such a strong word… But he won't be getting up for a while yet, so we shouldn't be disturbed." There was a subtle 'click,' and in an instant Reaver's Dragonstomper .48 had been leveled with Richard's head, who had only just begun to pull his own run from its holster. "Put it away, boy. Shedding blood won't help matters on my part, but I won't hesitate to kill you should you prove to be a problem. Prince or not."

Richard stood frozen, his face set in a stony mask as his grip on his clockwork pistol tightened. His eyes darted from Reaver to his mother and back again. For a long, dreadful moment, the only sound was Elena's muffled weeping, until finally Maegan said with a sigh, "Richard, just put the gun away. There's nothing for it, anyhow." Then she turned her boiling gaze onto the pirate. "What do you want, Reaver?"

"I have a proposition," he replied as he holstered the Dragonstomper, "that I think might be worth your while."

"Alright, let's hear it."

"Mother-!" Richard protested, but she held up a hand.

"I know what I'm doing. Take Elena and join Martin in the training hall."

"But-"

"Go," she ordered, fixing him with a harsh stare that clearly stated that she was not to be messed with at the moment. Discouraged, her son obeyed, taking the crying little girl from her mother's arms and making his way towards the door, being sure to give Reaver a wide birth.

Once he was gone, the pirate shut the door and the queen eased herself back into her seat. He paused, as if waiting for something, before crossing his arms indignantly over his chest. "Aren't you going to offer me something to drink?"

"No."

"Not even tea?"

"Oh, I'm sorry-we just ran out."

He looked rather put-out at this for a moment before he shrugged and began the difficult task of selecting which chair he wanted to sit in.

"You're looking younger than I remember. Make a few extra sacrifices to the Shadow Court recently?" she asked spitefully as he lounged gracefully in the seat across from her.

He frowned. "I never give extra."

"No? Forgive me, I assumed it didn't matter to you."

He gave her a tight, forced smile and leaned forward. "Perhaps this time I'll make an exception."

Maegan rolled her eyes. "Let's just get on with it, shall we? What do you want?"

"Right. Let me just cut to the chase-your little 'hunt down the pirates' campaign has caused me quite a bit of grief. Bloodstone is in even more disrepair than usual, and I can't sail anywhere in my own ship without nearly being gunned down by your little armada."

"Piracy is a big problem in our waters, Reaver. I can't have a bunch of thieves threatening my people, and I'm not about to change the law just because you ask me to." She frowned, wondering where this was going. Surely he did not come thinking that he could convince her to give the pirates free reign over the seas. What was this really about?

"I'm not asking you to," he replied casually, as if his prior complaint was of no real importance. "You see, I've grown tired of the sea life. I've decided to turn over a new leaf."

"Uh-huh," the queen snorted. "And what would that be? Bandit? Or perhaps a job as an assassin would be a better choice for you…"

He waved these suggestions off as if they were silly notions a child would make. "No, no, no, I'm talking about business, Maegan!"

"Business."

"Yes, that's right."

"So, what? You're going to open a stall now? Start vending fruit? Is the Dragonstomper for sale?"

Reaver scowled, and the queen could really see that he was starting to get annoyed. "Don't get your hopes up, dove. No, I was thinking more along the lines of the mass production and transportation of goods. World trade, factories, that sort of thing. I think I'll call it 'Reaver Industries.'"

"Great. What's this got to do with me?"

"Well, I must admit that starting such an adventure would be difficult with a price on my head."

"You want me to grant you amnesty."

"That would be nice, yes."

"And why would I do a crazy thing like that?"

His frown was replaced by a smug grin. "I want you to co-own the industry with me." He paused and waited for her to respond, but she only blinked disinterestedly at him. "You'll get your fair share of the profits, and you can use the money for charity, or teddy bears for orphans, or… whatever else it is your warm, fuzzy heart desires."

She arched an eyebrow. "Thrilling," she commented in bored tones.

He huffed. "The factories will also speed up the production of goods and provide jobs in the cities, blah, blah, blah, and all that."

"You're not a very good salesman."

"Well forgive me for being new at this!"

"Look, you're going to have to do a lot better than that to persuade me to give you anything. Quite frankly, after having you betray me twice and try a third time, I would much rather see your head on a pike. You're lucky I'm even listening to this proposal of yours." She leaned back and folded her arms across her stomach, taking on a strict expression she usually wore when punishing her children. This did not sit well with Reaver, who fought to keep from bristling, and in turn, Maegan had to fight to keep from laughing.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, scowling again.

"Just how important is this to you, Reaver? Hm? What are you willing to do to get it?"

His emerald green eyes narrowed. "That depends… What are you planning?"

The queen only grinned.

The queen watched as the handsome scoundrel pursed his lips in thought, considering her offer. She didn't know why she had proposed such a thing to him-she had no idea whether or not he would uphold his end of the bargain. It was a precious thing to gamble, but too precious not to lay on the table.

"Very well," Reaver finally sighed, extending a hand to his new business partner. "I accept."

Maegan smiled happily. "I will set up ways to ensure that you will do as you promised."

He rolled his eyes at her warning and stood indignantly from his seat. "I'm a big boy, dove…" Then he stopped and looked at her in confusion. "Do you… hear something?"

As if on cue, the door burst open and Sir Walter Beck and some ten soldiers tumbled forth, pouring into the room and swarming about like bees in a hive. Startled, Maegan leapt to her feet and Reaver whirled, his gun aimed at Walter in a blink of an eye.

"No, don't!" the queen cried, grabbing the pirate by the arm.

A shot rang out. The bullet embedded itself harmlessly in the floor, but it was enough to issue forth a wave of chaos. With a shout, Walter took the opportunity to dash forward, landing a punch in Reaver's gut and wrenching him from Maegan's grip as they tumbled to the floor. The Dragonstomper went flying and each knight, adorned with purple and silver, immediately had their rifles trained on the two men, waiting for an opening to kill the pirate.

"STOP!" Maegan shrieked, just as Walter punched Reaver three times in the ribs and twice in the nose, to which the pirate retaliated by kneeing the general in the groin. She tried to pull the men off of each other, shouting to the knights, "Don't shoot!"

Walter allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and then turned in confusion to his queen. "My lady-"

"It's alright, Walter. He's my business partner." she replied, kneeling to help Reaver sit up. He coughed, blood oozing from his nose and mouth, and cringed at having to move.

"Business partner?" Walter sputtered, bewildered. "He's a pirate!"

"No, he was a pirate. Now he's my business partner. Now go, all of you. I'll talk with you later, Walter."

"But I-"

"Go."

The general hesitated, his thick mustache twitching in deliberation, before stalking back into the hall. Grumbling, his knights followed him out, some of them casting angry glances back at the pirate who had stolen their chance at protecting their queen.

"Some watch dog you've got," Reaver groaned, glowering up at the retreating figure of the hulking general with hatred and disdain. "Works every muscle except his brain. Please tell me that our little agreement does not mean that I will have to work with him…"

"Only sparingly," the queen softed, handing him a handkerchief.

"Thanks," he mumbled. He winced as he pressed the cloth to his nose. It was almost immediately died a deep crimson. He grimaced. "Crap."

"It's alright, I've got plenty." The queen rose to stand. "I should probably go fetch the doctor…"

He stumbled to his feet and grabbed her by the wrist before she could leave. "No, it'd be better if you didn't. It's not bad; looks worse more than anything."

"You can't go around with a bloody nose, Reaver. No woman or man in Bowerstone will ever look at you ever again."

He smirked. "Oh, I don't know about that… I have my ways, you know."

The queen snorted. "Yeah, well, you'll get light headed anyway. Just let me get a doctor. It'll only take a few minutes, and then you can leave, alright?"

Reaver gave her a scowl. "I can take care of myself."

"Says the man who nearly got his head blown off."

"Only because you stopped me from-"

"From killing my general and my knights, yes. Oh, bad Maegan. Very bad."

With a huff, he pushed past her. "Whatever, I'm leaving."

"Alright. See you later, partner," she called, watching him as he stalked down the hall and out of sight. "Oh, and should I be surprised when I hear reports of the guards finding someone passed out in an alley?" Having received no response, she scoffed and shook her head, righting one of the chairs that had been toppled in the skirmish. "Bloody idiot."

A/N: I'm not fully satisfied with this chapter, but it will have to do for now. Hope you all enjoy it! :D