A/N: This is not going to be a long multi-chapter story. thepriceismeg and I were talking about pirate AU's a while ago, and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. I have no plans to turn this into a long story, but rather to just occasionally add some nonlinear chapters from this universe. (And yes...this is the real JoBethMegAmy. Unlike whatever got posted yesterday...)

I hope you can have fun suspending your disbelief and coming on a brief adventure with me! The title, by the way, is the name of a great song (which got put to a great Rizzles video). Maura is not actually a princess in this story.

My dearest Jane,

I have never longed so deeply for you to be by my side. I do not know whether you mark the days as carefully as I do, but it is nearing four years since last I saw you. Not a day passes where I do not think of you; but as my wedding day becomes more and more a pressing reality, I miss you more than ever. I am surrounded by family and acquaintances whose excitement for this day far exceeds my own. If you were here, I would at least have someone to speak with about something else. And I cannot think of another soul I would rather have present on what will allegedly be the most important day of my life.

If this were in fact the most important day of my life, one would think I would feel at least a drop more enthusiasm for it than I do at the present. This all somehow feels very fast, which seems ludicrous given that Garrett and I have essentially been promised since birth. I have known this day was coming for as long as I can remember, and yet only now that it is imminent do I find myself wishing I had the opportunity to try something different before I become his wife. This is a flighty and ridiculous notion, I know; I am not even sure what it is I would like to try.

Perhaps that is a cruel, thoughtless speculation on my part. There are many young women who I am sure would cherish the chance I have - to marry into such a family as the Fairfields, to secure such a prestigious position in society, to be surrounded by more wealth than one could dream of. I suppose it is a fortunate thing indeed that you consider your life one of great fortune and excitement - I am certain many others in your circumstances would be less joyous.

How I miss your wondrously exuberant spirit! How I wish these letters were not my only means of speaking with you. How I wish you were here to whisper sweet condolences in my ear, to kiss away my pitiful tears and tell me when I am being foolish and too self-involved. I could take that from you, and likely no one else, I believe. And I wish I were able to caress you, to comfort you when the stress of looking after your mother's family overtakes you. How sweet and selfless you are for devoting so much of your time and your life to their care.

I am selfish, I know. Be cautious when you visit next - I may be tempted to wrap my arms around you and never let you go. But please, do keep your promise and come before the summer is over. I should love so much to see one friendly face on my wedding day. There is none I would rather have it be than yours.

I hope this letter finds you well - safe, sound, healthy, and happy.

Always affectionately yours,

Maura D. Isles

Jane had lost count of how many times she had read the letter at this point. It was a foolishly romantic thing to do, particularly in light of the dangerous circumstances wherein she was returning so rapidly to the land of her youth - to Maura - and she cursed the inability to send any faster warning of what her hometown was about to face. But she couldn't help it. These might be the last kind words Maura ever sent to her, because this visit would finally have to blow Jane's cover.

But it is for her own good and her own protection. Hopefully in time she will come to see that, and with God's grace, forgive me…

It was well after midnight when the sound of canon fire jolted Maura from her light sleep. She dashed to the window and drew the curtains, but couldn't see much of anything going on outside - until a few moments later, when the blaze of a quickly-growing fire near the port grabbed her eye. The next time she heard a canon, the destruction was made visible in the firelight; a notable portion of a tavern was taken out, and now the shouts of men running about were made audible to her. In the black of night, she could barely make it out - but there, unmistakably, was the outline of an enormous ship out on the water.

Her bedroom door burst open, revealing Garrett with a candle in his hand. She hurriedly yanked her blanket off her bed to cover herself/her nightgown, but Garrett stepped closer and it was clear from his frenzied expression that propriety was not his top concern at the moment.

"Stay here, do not under any circumstances leave this house–or your room," he said sternly.

"Garrett, what in heaven's name is happening?!"

His teeth clenched for a moment as he debated whether to be honest, not wanting to frighten her. But unable to think of a good lie (and certainly unable to pretend nothing too serious was going on), he said, "Our port is under attack. By a band of pirates."

"Pirates?!"

"Yes. I have heard it's possible it might be–it could be Captain Clem." When Maura's eyes widened, he hastened to add, "Do not be frightened, Maura." (Easier said than done as an explosion went off outside.) "I–I am sure that was only a rumor, people trying to make it sound worse than it is! Just stay here, stay quiet, and you will be fine. I promise no harm will come to you."

"But Garrett–"

He was out of the room and gone before she could say another word, plunged back into darkness. Her first instinct was to light a candle herself, but she thought perhaps it would be best not to draw attention to the room. Or would it be better to look as if the home were occupied? If it looked empty, perhaps that would make pirates more likely to come in and try to steal something - or assault whomever they found there. Had Garrett warned the servants? Her father was away traveling, as he so often was - who would fend off any pirate who dared work his way into–

"Was that your fiancé I just had the pleasure of overhearing?"

Maura screamed, and in a blind panic, threw her blanket at the figure who had just emerged from the shadows by her window. She nearly tripped over her long nightgown in her effort to run over to the fireplace, where an ancestor's saber hung in a glass case over the mantel. Without a second thought, she smashed it against the wall, immediately freeing the saber to her.

"I…am not sure you thought that through particularly well," said the voice, sounding as dark as the room still looked. "I cannot imagine those tiny shards of glass will be very comfortable on your bare feet."

"Nor can I imagine that the tip of this saber will be very comfortable inside your stomach - which it will be if you take another step closer!" Maura countered, wishing she could will her eyes to adjust more quickly to the dark.

"You may want to remove the scabbard first."

Maura wasn't sure how the blasted person had been able to tell the scabbard was still there; she unsheathed it quickly and returned to her guarded stance. "Now remove yourself from this room or I will be forced to shred you to ribbons."

A quiet laugh. "Maura…"

"How do you know my name?!"

A short silence, as correct grammar was considered: "…it is I."

"Identify yourself!"

There was a loud clanging noise - a weapon, maybe two, being dropped to the floor in surrender. By this time, Maura's eyes had adjusted to the dark well enough to see the person was in pain; they were slightly hunched over, one hand gripping what was likely a wound on their abdomen.

"Jane..Clementine…Rizzoli."

Again Maura's first instinct was to drop her sword and fly instantly to the woman's side, but her guard came up - what if this was a ruse, somehow? Taking large steps so as to avoid any shattered glass, Maura still held the saber aloft - "How can I be sure?"

"Light a candle and see for yourself, Maura Dorothea. I–know it is not in your nature to lie, whereas I must now and then. But I would sooner throw myself into the depths of the ocean than lie to you."

"You lied to me once."

"Oh, yes. There was that one instance I have since lived to regret. I was … nine, and you were seven. I told you I could fly, and you believed me with every dear ounce of your being. How disappointed you were when I was unable to fly you over that hill by Millie's tavern–!"

That did it. Maura dropped her weapon and rushed forward, whimpering Jane's name as she enveloped her in an embrace. One arm was wrapped tightly around Jane's waist, the other shifting upwards to hold fast the back of her head, tangling instantly in Jane's dark curls. Maura breathed in deeply, and instead of Jane's usual scent of lavender, there was the smell of smoke and fire and gunpowder and a dozen other things she could not immediately place a name to.

"Jane, what on earth have you…?"

"Please, Maura, may I sit down?"

Maura directed her gently to the bed, then hurried to light the lamp on her desk, bringing it over and placing it on the night stand. She gasped in shock at the sight of blood seeping through the white sash tied around Jane's waist. "What happened?!"

"Please. It's only a flesh wound."

"A flesh wound?!"

"A bullet graze. I have treated it well enough; this is dried blood." Over the years, she had become quite adept at taking care of her own wounds, her personal trials-and-errors supplemented by medical advice which Maura happily mailed to her on request, imagining Jane merely shared her interest in medicine–maybe even needed some help taking care of an ailing family member.

"Jane–what happened? Was your ship overtaken by those brutes in the harbor? Is it really Captain Clem?"

Jane smiled wearily, and Maura took a moment to get a good look at her for the first time. Jane was twenty-one years old by this point; Maura hadn't seen her since the day Jane had turned seventeen. Jane had been beautiful to her then - willowy, hair neatly styled, yet looking rather uncomfortable in long dresses and small shoes. Though the image of propriety, there was a glint her eye and a certain way she had of grinning that made her look like she was up to something devious. Maura couldn't place it, exactly, but any time she found herself the receiving end of that dimpled grin and those pitch black eyes, she would feel her breath taken away.

"Shall we play a game before I leave, Maura?"

"Please!"

Jane's smile widened; it became sincere. "Oh, my sweet girl. I have already lost."

"How can that be, what sort of game is this?"

"One that Thomas and I used to play when we were younger. We would try to see who could make the other smile first - a rather amusing game if one of you is in a mood. But when I see you, Maura, no matter what you do - I cannot help but smile."

Such a sentiment pleased Maura infinitely more deeply than any bouquet, recitation, or kiss to her hand from Garrett Fairfield. "The feeling is mutual, Jane. Perhaps we should put this game to a test." She furrowed her brow slightly and forced herself to frown when she realized Jane was already staring at her. "You appear very set to win. Oh–are we allowed to speak?"

"Yes. I beg your pardon for my staring."

"I thought that was the intent of the game?"

"So it is. I apologize if my fixation on your mouth seems… awkward."

"Au contraire," Maura said, knowing Jane couldn't help but smile any time she spoke in French. "Your mouth has me hypnotized, as well."

They laughed in unison, and Jane drew Maura in for a close embrace. Still laughing, she kissed Maura's cheek and then the corner of her mouth, and then before she allowed herself to think about what she was doing, her lips had slid on top of Maura's. Maura was too dumbfounded to properly respond - a kiss between friends was nothing; but Jane had not yet pulled away. In fact when she felt Maura's grip on her arms tighten slightly, Jane tugged her closer at the waist.

But nerve ultimately got the best of Jane and she broke it off, instantly trying to gauge Maura's reaction. The girl looked dazed, mystified, and with no idea how to properly follow up, Jane bade her farewell and departed for her ship.

The memory had kept Maura up many nights, especially at first. It had never come up in any of their letters, leading her to believe it had been inconsequential for Jane. Still, that didn't keep Maura from thinking about it whenever she wrote or received a letter, even four years later. And now, she could hardly drink in the sight before her fast enough.

Although Jane was still rather slender, there was an undeniable hardness that had been built into her physique. Her hair was tousled and fell over her shoulders, her smooth complexion overtaken by smears of black powder, ash, and sweat - which she was currently attempting to wipe away with the sleeve of her shirt. And there was another thing; her clothing: a dirtied white shirt with billowing sleeves, a bloodstained sash around her waist, and dark brown breeches tucked into tall black boots.

When a thick strand of hair fell into Jane's face, she tiredly tried blowing it away, but to no avail. Maura patiently tucked it behind her ear.

"Thank you."

"Jane, what is happening out there?" Maura asked steadily.

"Please, try not to be too nervous, Maura." She paused briefly, unintentionally creating a dramatic moment wherein she was trying to decide what exactly to say. (She had rehearsed this conversation countless times on her ship, but seeing Maura again made it hard to keep her faculties alert, much less remember what she had planned.) "I have come to take you away."

"What?"

"You must leave this place, and now."

"Wh–why?"

Jane was about to answer when the bedroom door was suddenly kicked open by a large man. Immediately Jane was on her feet, stepping protectively in front of Maura, but when she reached for her sword she was hit with the unfortunate recollection that she had thrown it on the floor a few minutes previously to put her friend at ease. Seeing that she was unarmed, the pirate leered before lunging forward.

Quickly begging for Maura's pardon, Jane shoved her to the wall so she could take a step back and, hooking her foot beneath the hilt, tossed the sword up into her hand. She was thus clumsily able to block the pirate's blade as she hurriedly went back to shield Maura, whose own weapon lay several feet away on the floor.

"Feisty girl," the pirate laughed, pushing his sword–and all his weight behind it–against Jane and hers, effectively pinning her (and Maura) to the wall. "But I've got me orders."

"And I have mine."

"I'm to collect that girl."

"Over my dead body," Jane grunted, pushing back with all her strength.

He cackled. "Normally it ain't a habit of mine to go about killing women, but I might make an exception in your c–"

Jane finally got the brainwave to give him a good kick between the legs with her hard-edged boot. He fell back with a howl of pain, and Jane grabbed the revolver that she had also hastily dropped earlier, pointing it at his head. "Give me one good reason not to blow your sorry brains out."

He murmured a few indecipherable pleas, but Jane was not moved by a transparent attempt to lull her into a false sense of complacency. "It has often been the nature of Captain Clem to offer second chances to the repentant. But you watch yourself, rogue. My mercy only goes so far."

The man seemed sufficiently cowed, but when Jane gestured for Maura to come and take her hand, he made a lunge for her. Without hesitation, Jane brought her blade swiftly down on his wrist, effectively separating his hand from his body. Jane nimbly picked up Maura's saber and tossed it to her, addressing the pirate over his agonized shriek: "Follow us, and you'll lose the appendage whose best acquaintance is now a bleeding mess on the floor. That, or your head - I'm not peckish."

After checking that the hall was clear, Jane ushered Maura out of the room and handed her a cloak. Maura barely caught it, staring at Jane in alarm as disparate thoughts rivaled to come out of her first. You just invoked the name of one of the most fearsome pirates in this territory! What did that man mean that his orders were to collect me?!

"Jane? What…is…happening?"

"We mustn't stay here," Jane murmured. As soon as Maura had fastened the cloak about herself, Jane reached for her hand and started leading her down the staircase. "I ought to have gone back down the outside wall again," she said. "So much faster than these blasted stairs!"

Her choice of words was apt, for only moments later, a gunshot went off from the floor they had just vacated and a bullet came disarmingly close to Maura's shoulder. Jane reacted immediately, firing her pistol at a figure who had just emerged from the dark on the landing. She wasn't sure if it was a fatal hit, but he collapsed all the same.

"Right. Excuse the impropriety, but we really had better get a move on in case there are any others," Jane said, and she swiftly picked Maura up and deposited her on the staircase rail. She hopped on after her and gave her a light push, and here came the screaming Jane might've expected Maura to release while being attacked - twice - by pirates. As they neared the end of the rail, Jane swiftly dismounted and stepped around to catch Maura before she went flying off the end. "There, you see?" Jane breathed, feeling strangely elated with one of Maura's arms cumbered around her neck. "Not so bad."

"Are you going to tell me what in the name of heaven is going on?" Maura asked, pulling slightly away from Jane.

"Yes, of course. Allow me to explain." A loud explosion went off nearby, sending a piece of the Isles barn crashing through the window, and Jane seemed to reconsider. "There is too much to explain. Let me sum up," Jane said, again taking Maura's hand and taking her down to the servants' entrance. Two pirates emerged from behind a large curtain; Jane effortlessly blocked both swords at once and kicked one in the gut and pushed the other out the window. She continued speaking as if nothing had happened: "Are you familiar with the Dread Pirate Rockmond?"

"Not personally, no, but I have heard his name."

"Yes, well, so has your pig fiancé," Jane muttered as they hurried along. "Fairfield made a deal with Rockmond to take care of some competition - namely, his brother Admiral Adam Fairfield."

Maura gasped. "What?! Are you honestly insinuating that Garrett arranged for the murder of his own–?"

"If to insinuate means to imply, then no, I am not insinuating," Jane said. "I am telling you straight out what I know to be true. Anyway, Garrett - stinking piece of scum that he is - went back on his word, and did not hold up whatever his end of the bargain with Rockmond was. So naturally, Rockmond is seeking revenge and that, my dear, is why very little of this town will be left by morning."

Maura felt like she was in a daze, or at the very least a dream, as she tried to keep up. They had just gotten outside when she realized, "Rockmond knows Garrett and I were to be married."

"Were?" Jane asked.

"Well if what you say is true, I certainly could not even entertain the idea of marrying such a man!" Maura balked. "That is why those men were after me, yes?"

"Yes. And I fear there are more to come."

"Is that why you came?" Maura asked, so softly Jane nearly missed it.

"I…I had planned on coming to attend your wedding, but when I caught wind of what Rockmond intended to do, I had to get here as quickly as my ship would bring me - and I was not a moment too soon, it seems." Jane gently caressed Maura's cheek, her heart flipping at the hesitant smile this action produced. "Although I daresay, perhaps it was wrong of me to believe you need protection! You struck quite an impressive pose with that saber earlier. Do you know how to use it?"

"This old thing? Not quite," Maura sighed. "I have had some formal training, thanks to my father, but I worry I would not be of much use in an actual combat situation."

"I would love to take the time test that notion, but my guess is that time is a luxury we cannot afford at the moment," Jane said. She pulled a dagger from her belt and handed it to Maura. "If some rogue gets close enough, pierce his hide anyplace you can reach. Now follow me."

"Jane, where are we going?" Maura hissed, as she did her best to keep up with her limber friend.

"My ship."

"And which ship is that?"

"The Dirty Robber, of course."

Nothing would have pleased Maura more at the moment than to stop and sit down so they could talk this over face-to-face. But Jane clearly wasn't about to take that chance, and Maura - who had always been blessedly able to quickly adapt - was going to have to keep up. "The Dirty Robber? Then you–you are Captain Clem?!"

"Who told you that?"

"You said it to that pirate who was in my bedroom!"

"Oh, right. Then yes, there you have it." Jane was mostly leading them nimbly through the burning town, avoiding the scuffles which had broken out between pirates and locals. One ruffian rushed the two women, but Jane easily evaded his sword and engaged him in a quick fight which ended with Jane leaving the man to bleed out.

The nonchalance with which she could move on from such violence was almost more than Maura could bear. "I think I may faint," she realized.

"I would not blame you if you did, and I should gladly carry you the rest of the way if needs be."

"Are you going to tell me how you–"

The sounds of gunfire and burning buildings had hid the footsteps of a pirate running up from behind, and this time Jane barely managed to elude him. She swore at the searing pain of her arm, which had felt the tip of his blade. His next move was parried, and Jane sent him to the ground with a kick to the stomach. Before he could rise, she shot a bullet through his right hand, and left him twitching on the ground in agony.

"Jane, stop!" Maura pleaded. "Your arm–!"

"–will be fine, no need to make a fuss over it."

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli, do not turn yourself into a martyr for my sake!"

"Martyr?" Jane laughed, turning to face her. "It's not my life, is it? Just an arm! Don't go…"

She had to trail off at the look on Maura's face: consternation, but mostly fear was present, and Jane sighed. Sometimes she took for granted that running around like this was a part of her life, and it wasn't part of everybody's - certainly not someone like Maura's. Yes, she believed it would behoove them to move quickly, but Maura was likely owed more of an explanation when she wasn't running from something. Bandaging Jane up might prove a nice distraction while they talked things over…

A/N: The follow-up is nearly done, so I can promise a speedy update!