The day that news of Buttercup's engagement reached the pirate ship Revenge, three things happened and none of them were good. First, the cook served the same stew for the fourth day in a row, which was universally frowned upon and generally considered to be in very bad taste. This put the crew in a noticeably sour mood, and was not helped at all by the sudden, inexplicable disappearance of the ship's grog. There are no words to describe the effects such a loss had on the sailors, and even the comical sight of the helmsman's dog looking suspiciously tipsy could not relieve their anguish. Overall, the sudden lack of grog was morale-shattering and sent most of the crew into a perpetual zombie-like state of despair. Even faced with the loss of their favorite drink and the cook's sketchy stew, however, the feelings of the crew were nothing compared to their captain. The third happening onboard the ship not only dwarfed the others by far, but gnome-d them as well, for it was on that day that the Dread Pirate Roberts let a ship he pursued go free.

Needless to say, the crew could not have been more shell-shocked. None of the sailors were willing to believe that these cease and desist orders were authentic, bona fide, Dread-Pirate Roberts-approved commands. (This was partly due to grog withdrawal – by this point it had already been a full 15 minutes since most of them had had their last drink and, boy, could they feel it.) With some difficulty, the first mate managed to convince the men that this was no joke. The Dread Pirate Roberts had called off the chase, in favor of a new port of call – Florin City.

What had caused this sudden, uncharacteristic change of heart, they wondered? The Revenge wasn't due to plunder the riches of Florin's shores for another few months, after all. What was so important that they had abandoned the prey in favor of Florin, especially if the prey in question had grog on in? (No one can fault the sea dogs for their focus.) A few whispered that the captain was after Prince Humperdinck's betrothed, Princess Buttercup. This made sense to them, since it was well known that Humperdinck and Roberts were sworn enemies, and it was expected for Roberts to make a move against him in the near future. Most eventually came to the conclusion that their captain intended to sweep into Florin City, snatch up Princess Buttercup, ruin the wedding, and, effectively, ruin the bride-less Humperdinck, causing him endless humiliation, stripping him of all pride and dignity, and dealing a blow to his country-sized ego (this was after egos, but before Freud, and definitely before psychoanalysis, though Humperdinck probably could have used one).

This was all well and good for the sailors, who, upon accepting this theory as truth, took heart and went about the ship singing bawdy sailing songs, swabbing decks, and battening down hatches with newfound vigor. However, locked in his quarters, the captain had very different things on his mind – namely betrayal, confusion, anguish, and a bit of a stomachache that may or may not have been the result of the stew. The thing was, none of these were necessarily directly connected to Prince Humperdinck so much as they were directly connected to the Princess Buttercup of Hammersmith. The crew, though rather closer to the mark than they would have suspected if they knew the whole truth about their captain, had one crucial point wrong.

This was not a mission of vengeance. It was a mission of true love.

As it happened, the Dread Pirate Roberts, vicious and most fearsome of pirates, was really Westley, once a farm boy, and truly, utterly, and in all other ways completely in love with the bride, his Buttercup. None among his crew were aware of this, and it remained a crucial point in the farce; they believed him to be the heartless, vicious Dread Pirate Roberts. Westley, since taking up his position as the newest captain of the Revenge, had done nothing to dissuade them. Like the Dread Pirates before him, he was the picture of Jolly Roger, as fearsome as Davy Jones himself when he was among the crew – and it was a good thing, too. Nothing does more harm to a pirate's reputation than to suddenly get caught running around with a heart (unless, of course, it was the heart of an enemy – that's commonly accepted, and sometimes even praised among pirates)

Westley paced the length of his quarters, one fist closed around the report from his contacts in Florin City revealing the engagement and information about the public announcement to be held in little over a week. The letter made it sound as though the whole country had seen it coming, and though he knew that his contacts would not see any importance in this engagement to him beside a strategic one, he was angry that he had not known sooner. Now he was limited for time, and would have to run the risk of having too little to succeed in the upcoming heroic rescue (even if this sort of thing was his specialty). He wondered briefly if she would see it as a kidnapping, if maybe she really did love Humperdinck.

No. That was impossible. Wasn't it?

For the first time since he had agreed to take over the ship, Westley had doubts. He spent the entire trip to Florin City pacing his cabin, thinking and rethinking every possibility, and by the time the Revenge finally sailed into its usual port (a secret, secluded cover, known only to pirates, of course), he had not only worn a very visible rut into the floor, but had also hardened his heart against her. Or at least that's what he told himself as he stood on the foredeck, overseeing the approach to the cove.

Disembarking from his ship, Westley gave orders to those among the crew who were to stay aboard, and instructed the rest to be back aboard the Revenge and ready to sail within twenty-four hours. He was aware that this would be largely unnecessary, seeing that he no longer planned to steel her away from her new love – that would be cruel, and deep down, his farm boy heart was anything but – and would not face any pursuit from Prince Humperdinck, but also saw no reason to stick around for any longer than strictly needed, so twenty-four hours it was.

Westley arrived at the Great Square with half an hour to spare, wearing his favorite black recon (this is after reconnaissance, but only just) outfit, complete with a comfy black mask. Waiting in the highest building in the land, at the farthest corner of the Square, deep within the darkest shadow, he thought he knew exactly how he would handle this. He would witness this blasphemy of true love with dignity, maybe even offer a polite golf clap for the royal couple when the time came, and inevitably sneak back to his ship and sail off into the sunset.

Ten minutes before the announcement, he felt his resolve starting to waver.

As the trumpets started to sound, he knew that one glimpse of her would crumble any wall he had built around his heart, and was trying to make his unwilling feet move toward the exit when she stepped out onto the balcony - arm-in-arm with Prince Humperdinck and looking more beautiful and happy than he had ever seen her. He felt his heart starting to harden again.

By the time Buttercup had made her rounds among the crowd and disappeared again into the castle, Westley had already learned of the plot to kidnap her, and knew that he would be the one to rescue her.