Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, only the AU is mine. Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, and everyone else belong to the BBC.

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WARNING: There is going to be some gore up ahead! It is a pirate battle after all! If that kind of stuff bothers or triggers you, please do not read, or skip over it!

Chapter 2 - A Dragon Felled

The journey to the Devil's Bay took very little time in comparison to crossing the Atlantic Ocean - only a few days or so - but it seemed to the crew to draw on forever. They were agitated and anxious from the moment they had learned of their destination. All had heard tales of Sirens that entice sailors with their song, only to feast on their bodies once the enchanted men jumped into the water to join them. Tales of giant snake-like creatures that could swallow a ship whole, or of the horrible Kraken that could drag down even the largest frigate with a single tentacle. The fact that they were sailing away from Bermuda and the mysterious events that accompanied its waters didn't seem to put any of their minds at ease.

So far the journey had been a sailor's dream. The waters were calm and beautiful, and the wind blew enough to fill the sails, but not so much as to disrupt the ship's activities. There was not a cloud in the bright blue sky. There were no seabirds either. It was as though they were stuck in the world of a painting, but they could see the islands move past them in the distance.

It put every man on edge.

Captain Pendragon called his trusted officers into his cabin to sit round the table and discuss a battle plan in case they did indeed find the pirate in the bay.

"Obviously, we cannot enter the bay. It is much too dangerous. We will have to draw him out of there somehow, but how do we do that? In the past he has only run from Navy ships." Arthur said, slamming his fist down on the table. The Dread Pirate Emrys had no honor and was unpredictable because of it.

"We could...send a few men in a dinghy to appeal for help?" Elyan offered. The other men just stared at him incredulously.

"Oh yes, I'm sure the Black Dragon would just love to drop all his business to help out some poor lost sailors!" Gwaine shot back. Leon and Lancelot chuckled. Arthur gave them a stern look.

"Unreasonable or not, at least Mister Elyan is suggesting an idea, which is more than any of you are doing," the captain said, effectively shaming the men into silence.

A few silent minutes passed as each man tried to work out a way to trap one of the cleverest and fastest sailors on the sea.

"What about setting fire to his ship?" Leon suggested.

"What exactly would that solve, Leon?" Arthur replied.

Leon shrugged, deflated.

"We could send in a team of fighters to sneak onto the ship and slit the pirates throats in their sleep!" Gwaine announced.

"They want him alive, Gwaine, if we can manage it."

Gwaine mumbled in irritation and fell silent again.

Percival spoke up for the first time so far. "What if we went in after him?"

The others gawked. Arthur looked dark and stone-cold.

"My friend, I'm afraid you have gone completely mad," Gwaine retorted. The others mumbled in agreement.

"What other choice do we have?" Arthur said, barely above a whisper. The men turned to him. They looked lost. Arthur's voice picked up when he continued. "There are no other choices! He is a pirate, he is not simply going to be fooled into leaving the safety of his bay. The only option is to go to him and trap him in his own territory. Once we are in the bay, he will not be able to leave. The opening is much too small, the bay itself is very small-"

"And what if our ship is damaged or destroyed before we even get to the pirate?!" Gwaine was in hysterics.

"Then we will die trying!"

This threw all the men into silent thought, even Gwaine. As Navy men, it was their duty to perform their mission to the best of their ability, or die trying. If they went back saying they had found the pirate but hadn't captured him because they were concerned for their ship or their men, they would all surely be stripped of their ranks and perhaps even discharged from the Royal Navy in disgrace. They had to go in and they all knew it.

"So we go in and fire away?" Gwaine said, no longer bold and full of vigor.

"Like our ancestors before us," Arthur replied, sending a halfhearted chuckle among his men. They knew that entering the bay left every man on the ship with an even lower chance of survival than a battle with the Black Dragon alone, and they were not keen on meeting their ends.

Arthur bore this weight more than any of the others, being the one who now dictated the sailors' destinies. His shoulders sagged as he dismissed his friends. His skin paled as he told the helmsman his plan for the following day, before giving the order to drop the anchor for the night. He didn't even notice the dreary grey clouds creeping in over the horizon. His entire body felt like it was being slowly crushed as he sank into his bed that night. He slept fitfully, dreaming of the deaths of his friends and his crew. He violently awoke to the flash of lightning and crash of thunder as a sudden storm racked the ship. He stared out the large glass windows and despaired.

On the morning of what was sure to be a great battle, icy rain pelted the men as they stood together once again, waiting for their captain to speak. They couldn't see from where they were standing, especially through the sheets of rain uncharacteristic to the tropical region they were in, but the captain had dark circles under his eyes and his entire body drooped just a little. What time he had not spent dreaming of gore he had spent awake, pacing as he played the battle out in his mind again and again. Each time the outcome was different. Each time someone else had died.

"We are about to find out if the information we collected at Puerto Magia was accurate and if indeed the Dread Pirate Emrys resides in this bay. If he does, we will engage him in battle. I expect you will fight with bravery to the end. For the Queen!" The sailors echoed the cry and cheered, pumping themselves up for the battle. They were afraid of the gruesome deaths that might await them, and the consequences of losing, but the glory and fortune of winning excited them even more.

"To arms!" Arthur cried, and the men ran to strap sheathed swords around their waists. Some of the men hurtled down to the lower deck to man the cannons. Arthur himself withdrew to his quarters, strapping both a magnificent rapier, one that had previously belonged to his father, and a long-barreled revolver around himself. He ran a tired hand through his hair before setting his hat over it. If he was to die, he would die with honor.

"Captain, we are circling the bend. The bay is coming into view!" Percival announced as he stormed through the door. Arthur followed him out. The rain drenched them immediately.

The two men stood side by side on the forecastle. Arthur held a long brass spyglass to his eye and squinted through it, determined to catch a glimpse of the black ship. As they rounded the bend, the very tips of black sails came into view.

"SHIP HO!" cried the man in the crow's nest, a cry echoed by the men on board.

"Ship ho," Arthur repeated softly to Percival. The first mate nodded.

The next thing that caught the crew's attention was the myriad of sharp rocks, jutting angrily into the sky. They alone would be difficult to navigate, and their water-bound brethren made damage to the hull nearly impossible to avoid. Even their seasoned helmsman would have difficulty getting them in and out, especially with the storm still raging. Arthur put his hopes in the man.

The water was grey and thrashing, an echo of the roiling sky above them. Vicious gusts smacked the sails and sent the lines flailing. The storm had come suddenly, as though protecting the pirate ship, and it didn't seem to have any indication of passing any time soon. Rain was slapping the deck, and lightning cracked uncomfortably close. Arthur kept his spyglass trained on the enemy ship. Every element seemed to be conspiring against the Navy ship, and it concerned Arthur beyond measure.

The helmsman pulled furiously at the wheel, using all his strength to guide the immense ship safely through the rocks. Her port side scraped against a boulder, but not hard enough to do much damage. The ship jolted, however, and a few of the men were sent shrieking into the unforgiving waves. The rest of the men scrambled to their feet and returned to their posts, holding on to lines and rails tighter than before.

"Hard to port!" The captain called, and the men repeated it until the order reached the helmsman. He would draw up the starboard side of the Albion and fire the port canons, before getting close enough to board the Kilgharrah.

It was only then that the enemy ship seemed to notice the approaching Navy ship. She started pulling alongside the Albion, as though realizing that escape was no longer an option and that her only chance was to fight. She faced the Albion with her port side, seeming to challenge the Navy ship.

HMS Albion drew closer to the pirate ship, with little incident. The rocking of the waves made aiming the cannons a challenge, but the men below did their best. Percival took his place at the top of the stairs, and Gwaine took his at the bottom, ready to relay the messages from the captain to the firing crew.

"Hold!" Captain Pendragon called. Percival repeated the order to Gwaine who in turn relayed it to the gunners. As the Albion pulled close to the Kilgharrah, a wave batted her against a rock. More men flew overboard and some of the wood making up the hull splintered to pieces.

"Captain! The hull had been breached! She's taking on water!" Percival yelled, relaying the message from below.

"How fast?"

"Above the waterline, not too fast! Several liters per second! But she will not hold out for long!"

"Tell the gunners to hold their posts! If we can make it long enough to capture the pirate, we can focus on repairs later!"

"Aye, sir!"

Arthur cursed. He knew his ship would take some damage, but it was unlucky that the damage had to be taken before the Kilgharrah was overtaken and the Dread Pirate captured.

"We are in range! Fire!" Arthur called to Percival, who repeated the message down.

Twenty-two cracks filled the air as the starboard cannons fired, almost simultaneously. Arthur managed to keep himself from flinching at the explosions that hurled the heavy iron balls at the enemy ship. As it was, most flew well over the black ship, but one well placed cannonball took a bite out of the enemy's mizzenmast. One more shot would knock it into the water, crippling the Kilgharrah.

As the gunners reloaded, the Kilgharrah shot her own round, but rather than cannonballs, a rain of fireballs shot from her sides. Railings were destroyed, and one shot flew through a large sail on the foremast. The edges of the canvas where the shot went through were singed, but the rain had soaked the wood and the cloth, and the fire was unable to catch. Arthur briefly blessed the storm.

The shots were not well aimed, but the fire unhinged the crew. How was that possible, fire falling from the sky? Arthur looked darkly at the ship and drew out his spyglass again, searching for the pirate captain.

Magic.

The word echoed in his mind. He didn't know what to think about everything that was happening, but he was beginning to think that magic wasn't merely a figment of folk tales. He had felt the weight words carried before. And no other explanation could be offered for the appearance of the fireballs.

Warlock.

The nickname was beginning to make sense.

"Captain?" Percival called through the panic and the rain and the violent rush of waves.

"Are we loaded?"

"Aye!"

"Fire!"

A second round of cannon fire soon followed. This time, a sprinkling of holes appeared in the lower hull of the enemy ship. One shot took down the mizzenmast, a few more blew holes in the sails. The Kilgharrah began taking on water, faster than the Albion. The Navy ship was beginning to gain the upper hand.

Through his spyglass, Arthur could see panic on board the enemy vessel. He happened upon the flag, dangling by a single fiber in disgrace. He still couldn't seem to find the pirate captain. But something else did catch his eye. A woman seemed to be giving out orders. A woman, Arthur thought, on a ship. Commanding. No wonder we are winning. The bad luck associated with having a woman on board a ship was well known to all sailors, navy and pirate alike. Arthur scoffed, a little disheartened that what seemed to be an oncoming victory wasn't due to his nautical prowess and commanding skills.

"Bravo, the dragon is felled. I think it is time to board, Mister Percival." Arthur called out. Percival nodded and let the lower levels know.

The captain turned to his men. "Men! It is time to board the enemy vessel! This is the moment we have all been waiting for! Gather your courage and board by my side!" The men cheered and hooks tied at the end of thick ropes sailed overhead, landing on the Kilgharrah's deck. The men pulled until the hooks were lodged into the side of the ship and with a "Heave!" they managed to pull the ships close enough to lower a few large gangplanks from HMS Albion to the Kilgharrah. With a battle cry, the Navy men stormed the enemy ship, some drawing swords, others drawing pistols or firing rifles.

The battle was utter chaos. Bodies fell with a thud as they were pierced with bullets and blades. Blood splashed the deck and soaked the clothes of both sides. White stockings and breeches were stained red and bodies lay slashed open, innards spilling onto the deck. Sailors and pirates alike slipped in the gore and screamed into the faces of dead comrades and foes. The morale of the fighters sank quickly from glorified excitement to terror and disgust. The metallic stink of blood pierced the air and remained even after most off the bodies and blood had been swept away by the leaping waves and the pouring rain. Some of the men backed away from the fighting and began to sob, unable to stand the death around them. A few men retched. Most kept fighting.

Arthur searched for the pirate captain, fighting through the crowd of enemies. He didn't know what the man looked like nor where to find him, but he hoped to find the man fighting. To shrink away while your crew died at the hands of your enemies was the most shameful thing Arthur could imagine, and he wrinkled his face in disgust at the thought.

Off to his left, the woman he had seen earlier was fighting with a valor and ferocity that impressed Arthur. In that moment he decided that there were worse things than having a woman on board a ship.

Then a shout pierced the air. There was a dark power in the shout, and the sound rang through the air. Arthur felt the same sensation of dullness as he had at the alehouse in Puerto Magia. This was the feeling he had learned to associate with magic.