A long long time ago (2004 to be exact) "The Queen's Gift" was a Janeway/Seven uber story shared with a very tiny fandom.
I've now revised and expanded the story and made the novella available on Amazon. Use the ISBN B07K7PXB6J to find it.
Here's the opening to whet your appetite for this 25,000 word lesbian romantic adventure:
Back to back with her first mate, Kotay, Mary engaged the dandified English naval officer with expert swings of her cutlass against his trefoil. "What the hell is an officer of the King's navy doing on a merchantman?" she asked over her shoulder.
Her English opponent, thinking her guard down, lowered his sword preparing to run her through. Captain Mary's gray eyes flashed with the turbulence of a stormy sea. Almost lazily casual, her wrist moved; her blade broke his with a metallic snap. On the counterswing she opened his throat. He collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut, eyes rolling up and back in his head, a gasp barely heard from his lips.
Kotay risked a glance away from his own opponent, more a brawler than a swordsman. "He won't be answering any questions," he remarked.
"Stupid git. Dispatch him -" She indicated Kotay's opponent with a toss of her chin. "Meet me below in the captain's room. I'm going to learn what I can about the cargo to direct the offloading."
"Aye, cap'n." He wrestled an arm free of his opponent. In raising his arm to salute her, he threw the force of his elbow into the limey's nose, shattering it and making him drop to his knees, clutching his face and wailing. "Let's go."
She smirked, her eyes more blue than gray now. "You were toying with him?"
He smiled. Her laughter sent chills over the entire deck. The men from the Rouge Rogue – her men – redoubled their efforts with loud shouts of "Hurrah!" and the merchantman's crew scrambled in fear.
The Queen of the Pirates – Captain "Bloody Mary" Flint always got what she wanted. And right now she wanted this ship.
With Kotay at her back, Mary gained the entry to the below decks, tossing aside what appeared to be another soldier rather than a sailor. The pitch lamp burned low on the wall. She could make almost nothing out in the shadows below the steep thin steps leading down.
She held out her cutlass and proceeded nimbly forward. Just barely heard around her footfalls on the wood planks she was certain she heard a gasp.
Someone was down here. The captain? Mary shook her head. Unless the captain had rused her with a swap with his first mate, she'd already dealt with the chief officer on this ship. Perhaps it was his first mate?
Somehow she doubted that. A gnawing vague feeling told her it hadn't been male at all, but female.
No sooner did her booted foot strike the lower deck planks, she was set upon, knocked to the ground in a flurry of petticoats. An inborn instinct to never harm a woman made her toss her sword aside. She heard it clatter even as she continued to struggle upright, forcing a turning of the tables. Lord, she's a large, bountiful girl.
The girl was indeed of surprising size. Despite her own compact muscled body, Mary had difficulty dislodging her. She saw Kotay landing on the deck beyond them. When he turned and hauled the girl into his arms, Mary picked herself up. She retrieved her sword. Turning back about to sheathe it, she reconsidered at the gasp of fear. She lifted it instead, letting what little light there was glint off the steel, drawing the girl's gaze – startlingly blue eyes, almost ghostly white in the murky lighting.
Though she struggled in Kotay's unyielding grip, the girl abruptly narrowed her gaze and brought up her chin in a marked act of defiance.
"Are you the only person down here?"
There was a telltale darting of the girl's eyes. Mary would have to check the rooms. The girl's reply was a blunt lie. "There is no one else." Brave, thought Mary. Either that or she thinks I'm stupid.
Best to show the girl her situation clearly. "A girl traveling alone to England. Tsk tsk. Such shoddiness always from the English. Kotay, we shall have to escort her ourselves, don't you think? Take her to the Rogue."
She waved her hand negligently – the one still holding her sword. The girl's eyes widened as the blade brushed her skirts. Remarkably though she quivered with awareness of her "lesson", Mary was pleased to note she did not jerk away.
Mary met Kotay's gaze past the girl's shoulder. He shook his head.
"Get her off the ship," Mary reiterated. "We're going to send this ship to Davy Jones' locker."
Mary turned and looked at the girl who had jerked her shoulder free of Kotay's grip to spin around and blurt her alarm.
"I can do anything I want. With certainty you must know who I am?" The girl did not respond. "Does the cat have your tongue?"
The girl swallowed, dispirited. "I heard the men call you Bloody Mary."
"'Tis what they call me, truth." A cry of exultation went out above deck. "We have the ship," she said to Kotay.
"Then why sink her?" the girl asked.
"'Tis my stock and trade. I daren't disappoint." Mary saluted with a swish of her sword, turned her back and resisted looking back as she heard Kotay drag the girl up top.
Inside the captain's cabin, Mary sifted through the papers on the desk, opened the log book and found the notes on the cargo and the buyers it was bound for in England. There wasn't much. Curiouser and curiouser. What merchant could afford a near-empty sailing?
Buy info: https (colon) (slash) (slash) (slash) dp (slash) B07K7PXB6J
Alternatively you can look for books by "Lara Zielinsky" and find it.