The temperature of the ocean exceeded the temperature of the air. Cedric noticed the change with his toes wiggling in the sand during the twilight hour of the day where true colors weren't yet saturated through with sunlight. Lightweight pants typical of the islanders were rolled up to his knees but still damp from the ever-shifting water. His linen shirt, the first two buttons casually left open, even bore signs of splashes from unpredictable waves. He was harvesting sea snails that clung to the rocks on the shore during the morning low tide, but would be largely consumed by sea birds during the afternoon low tide. He had been here every other morning for the better part of eight years and had an impressive personal apothecary to show for it.

Upon arrival, Cedric was relieved to find the island wasn't backwards, at least not in ways that mattered to him. Being relatively isolated and surrounded by water left the culture to flourish on its own. Technology was slim but daily life was richer for it. Magic was...earthier here. It was a part of everyday life with every inhabitant a participant on some level. Wands and spells were absent, replaced with staves and chanting. Every goodwife had a remedial potion brewing beside a pot of stew for dinner composed of the scraps of fish and vegetables leftover from the night before. Cedric and his considerable potion-making skill had been folded into the community immediately after it was his brew that brought a cow, a rare creature to the islanders, back from the brink of death. He hadn't needed to cook himself a single meal since.

Island life had been good to him. The furrowed lines of concentration across his forehead had lessened, replaced by laughing crinkles around his eyes and skin tanned as dark as his fair complexion allowed. He no longer bothered to hide his unique hair coloring, keeping it short and out of his eyes while he let facial hair stubble across his cheeks and chin. It wasn't from laziness. It was an opportunity to do as he wanted and now that was an opportunity he would never surrender. His facial hair was plenty to keep his mother tsking judgmentally as only a mother can when they corresponded via portrait. He and his father didn't speak. Giving up the lineage of Enchancia Royal Sorcerer was one hit too far below the belt for Goodwin to forgive. But his disappointment was a burden Cedric could bear to carry in trade for the island that had returned so much of his vitality.

The warmer weather meant the arrival of tourists and that was reason enough for Cedric to venture out of his bungalow to the shoreline only in the early morning and down to the village only during the heat of the day. The majority of the visitors would sleep or sun during those hours so Cedric was relatively safe to meander about his day without uncalled for interruption. He was the only non-islander in the village which inevitably caught the attention of vacationers. Keeping to a strict non-romance policy amongst the locals, this sort of flighty attention had it's place here and there over the years. But Cedric generally enjoyed his quiet, mostly celibate life chorused by the constant, calming sounds of the surf.

As the sun began to rise, so did Cedric. He left the shoreline with a basket cram-jam full of bits and baubles for his usage. Upon returning home, he went about his usual routine, magicing the kettle to life to brew his morning cup of caffe as he put his findings away for later usage. He checked on a myriad of mid-process potions, some for village usage, others his own experiments. Satisfied, he took his still-steaming mug to the wall of windows and kicked back into a well-loved armchair, a dog-eared paperback novel propped open in his free hand between long, calloused fingers.

Everything was exactly as it should have been, exactly as it had been since he found his routine after his arrival to Kona Laui. And yet he couldn't absorb a word of his book, reading the same paragraph several times over before finally continuing on to the next. Caffe long finished, he tapped the rim of the mug in an impatient, mindless rhythm. The sense of unknown anticipation had nearly overwhelmed him when there was a small commotion at the bottom of the path to his home. He couldn't see the path from the windows that faced the ocean, but he did hear the tail end of a conversation.

"Are you sure you'll be alright alone?"

"I'll be fine, Lani. You didn't need to walk me here."

"Have you seen your legs? I wasn't certain your skin would let you move."

"Fine, fine. I'm here. I know you have obligations with the Village Chief. Thank you, oh Island Princess, for seeing me to the door. I'm pretty sure I can take it from here-ouch."

The first voice started to fade away accompanied by the sound of footsteps. "Serves you right," the voice said in a sing-song sort of tone. "You really shouldn't do that smarmy little wink when your face is that red. See you at dinner."

Sunburn. Of course.

Every so often, a vacationer would underestimate the sun in its reflective prowess against the water and get so burned that heat visibly radiated off their person. Cedric was the only one to have found a salve that eased the damage in less than a day which was oh-so-appealing to those with limited time on the island. And so the villagers would send the woeful creatures to him for help. Cedric stood to fetch the salve so he could immediately send the woman away, but her knock came first. He sighed lightly as his bare feet took him to the door, anticipating a longer conversation than he would have wished for.

The sound of glasses falling to the ground just barely preceded the inward swing of the door. Instead of seeing a face, Cedric took in an eyeful of shoulder burned nearly crimson and a long wave of soft, auburn hair.

"Whoops! I'm so sorry - what a first impression. Hi, um, I'm sure you can see I have a terrible sunburn." She straightened, glasses in hand. "The Village Chief said you were the only man to...to see…"

Sapphire blue eyes, eyes more blue than the cloudless sky, eyes more clear than the ocean that was just steps away slowly blinked in shocked recognition.

Her familiar voice stunned him speechless. Lips mouthed his name, then spoke it aloud with a mix of confusion and was that joy? Could this creature of near-comically burned skin and soft curves be the Princess he had left behind?

Cedric's mouth gaped open dumbly as he stared at the only person he had ever genuinely called friend. Then there was another sound filling the doorway. It sounded like little, happy chimes. Laughter. Sofia was laughing with tears welling in the corners of her eyes. Those eyes, those eyes, winced in pain from the crinkling of her skin caused by her laughter as she brought her hands to her lips in disbelief. It shook him from his revelry.

"Come in, you pitiful thing," he said with a sympathetic smile. "Best to hold the questions I'm certain you're overflowing with until your skin has faded from cooked-lobster red." He took her hand and helped her gingerly walk across the threshold, her dangerously thin, white linen dress swishing softly at her knees. Sofia dropped his hand almost immediately and wrapped her arms around his waist just as she had done over eight years ago. Only now, he was acutely aware of the press of her chest against his. No longer a child, but a woman wound her way around him and Cedric, with more hesitance than he would ever admit to, found his hands with no place to rest but the curve of her lower back. Though he surprised himself with a serious consideration of tangling one hand into her hair that curled into soft waves from the salt in the air. She smelled of the ocean and jasmine and something uniquely her.

Sofia had been the only person of his previous life to take the time to know Cedric exactly as he was without any expectations for him to be anything but honest. Or, well, she expected him to be the best version of himself and her endless optimism made him believe that he could be that man she saw. Without realizing it, she had been the one to give him the idea to leave. Bitter, frustrated inner-voices had told Cedric that he owed her no farewell and, after her letter, he believed he wouldn't see her again and would have no opportunity to redeem himself, no opportunity show her the best version of himself that he had grown into. It was the only real regret he had from his departure and lack of intention to ever return.

Cedric had occasional played out a final interaction where the Royal family, vacationing to the island, discovered him here and had a sort of "well gee, I'm certainly glad things worked out for all of us, no matter how we got there" moment that wrapped the scenario in a neat bow. The family continued on to their endeavors and him to his continued allegiance to me-myself-and-I. But Sofia was always the fourteen-year-old girl he had last known in these scenes. Like a flower previously in a bud, invisible to his notice, she had bloomed. He never could have imagined how she would change and, charmingly, how she wouldn't.

They stood there together for longer than was likely appropriate, but that was a thought absent from Cedric's mind. He wasn't that man anymore, caught in up boundaries of propriety. He held her to him with an intensity that matched hers. She murmered into his chest, breaking them out of their revelry.

"W-what was that?" He asked, resistant to end the moment.

Sofia pulled away, a blush somehow radiating through the intensity of her sunburn. Her eyes were shyly downcast. "I said that I missed you." And then she said in a quiet afterthought, "I-I guess I never realized just how much until seeing you again. I had hoped but I never.." She cleared her throat and the spunky outline of the girl he knew reformed with a sly grin. "Well don't you think the least you could do after disappearing is giving me is that salve the villagers were going on about? I'd like to go back to my proper coloring."

Cedric barked a laugh. "I see your audacity certainly hasn't changed." He gestured to a second armchair. "Please gingerly sit, your Highness, and I'll return in a moment." He turned to leave before her voice interrupted him.

"It's 'your Grace'," she corrected through nearly gritted teeth as she willed her damaged skin to allow her to sit.

Cedric quirked an eyebrow. "Is it, now, Duchess Sofia?"

Sofia's face softened with pleasure and Cedric's mind began doing somersaults of possibilities. "Yes," she said, her tone prim but her eyes sparkling, "it is."

.


.

A/N

**re-posted with tiny edits that I had missed! Wheeee!

So it's looking more like 4 chapters. Fingers crossed I can actually keep to my outline!

I tried to get across with the bud/bloom analogy that Cedric didn't think anything untoward girl!Sofia. That's icky. No thank you. Just want to be clear that I only ship this pairing when Sofia is no longer a child.

My best friend in college and I went on a cruise after our last semester of college. On the first day, we, being the pale creatures we are, slathered ourselves in sunscreen and went up to read on the deck for about four hours. Guys. WE FORGOT TO SLATHER OUR LEGS. I was a little burned, but mostly okay. Poor best friend was lobster red and could only really waddle for the rest of the week while wearing my pants (she's more petite than I am) and covering her legs frequently in aloe. NEVER FORGET YOUR LEGS.

Thank you so much for the reviews.

AHogwartsCat - I can never hold my mail, either! I'm glad you appreciate the details.

Guest - I struggled with the letter line! It felt a little cliche but I don't think pre-teen Sofia would shy away from them, especially if they are true.

Kira444 - You absolutely made my day. Thank you so much for the compliment.

And thank you to the review-less viewers! It's so awesome that you took time out of your lives to read something I wrote!