A/N: Another chapter. Hey, why not? This one's for my lovely beta Vu par un Ange. She's super snazzy.

"We sail on the morrow."

The truth was there; both clans would leave the next day. Tiernan thought he would be happy, but when he recalled that Grace would remain behind with the other women, his heart fell once more. How her husband had gotten her to swallow that order and lived to tell the tale was beyond Tiernan, but even from the distance he purposely kept he could feel her radiating, seething anger.

What hurt even more was knowing he sailed with Clan O'Malley tomorrow, away from her, along with all of those she had ever known. She would be utterly alone in a sea of O'Flaherty women, who would consider her as much of an outsider as she would them.

But what was his other option? Stay, and be regarded as weak, like a woman? He doubted in even Grania would wish him to do that. He was a sailor, had been his whole life, knew no other life.

She would be fine. This was Grania for heaven's sake, she was strong, more than capable of taking care of herself. The women would likely offer little opposition to whatever she chose to do.

Yes, Grania would be fine. The better question was in regards to his own well being. He knew it was crazy, and perhaps a little stupid, but he felt as if he was betraying her, breaking his promise. He was leaving her here, amidst a clan most O'Malley still considered an enemy.

But he had left her on the shore many times before, and he was coming back as soon as he could. What more could he honestly do? Could Grania really fault him for this little stretch of his promise when she had thrown her own vow to the ground and crushed it under her heels?

Tiernan shook his head, banishing such thoughts from his mind. The bitterness, the anger, was almost gone from his body, but the pain still ached at his insides, though the sharp, unbearable stabs of agony had mostly subsided. He was making progress, certainly, but it was slow, albeit steady, and would require more time if he wished to recover completely.

Which I have, he reminded himself. He would be able to figure himself out on the sea, without her distracting gaze following him wherever he walked. (Though as a rule he didn't mind being undressed by Grace O'Malley's eyes, Grace O'Flaherty was a completely different story.)

Did she compare him to the man she married when she lay with her husband under the cover of darkness, desperately trying to conceive an heir? When she responded to his caresses, did her lips mouth Tiernan though the hands belonged to another?

No, he would not think of such things. It would only cause the anger and pain to boil up again, breaking the precariously maintained calm he experienced. He hoped she damn well enjoyed her new husband (and his caresses) for all the pain it was causing him.

When dawn came the next day, and both ships were preparing to depart, Tiernan watched from the deck as Grace looked at the Pirate Queen wistfully, wrapped in a cloak against the morning chill.

He had warned her; the life that her new husband offered would not be anything compared to the one she had experienced in these past few months, but still the look on her face wrenched his heart.

Perhaps it was not very intelligent, but Tiernan could not resist rowing back to the shore with the last shift to say goodbye.

She smiled when she saw him, but it didn't reach her eyes and it mostly certainly did not fool him. "Come to say a tearful goodbye?"

He laughed, just a little. "I can't promise tears, but I'll try my best."

"You didn't have to come."

A little nod. "I know. I wanted to."

There was a silence that bordered on uncomfortable, but somehow even her marriage could not make their bond so estranged as to deem the silence awkward.

The thought brought a little bit of comfort to Tiernan, though he could not put words to the reasoning he had for it. "So goodbye, then," he told her with a surprisingly easy smile. "I'll be back before you know it."

"I highly doubt it."

He shrugged. "As you will. Don't cause too much trouble."

"No promises." A pause, and then, just as he turned to walk away, "Take care of my ship."

He turned back for one last moment. "Take care of my heart. I leave it in your care, always."