A/N: I am SO SORRY for the wait on this. Life, writer funk, general funk, writing ahead in this story rather than what's right in front of me and visitors in the house…I swear, this summer has felt like an endless parade. This is the FIRST chapter posted tonight, though. I broke it up, instead of having one long chapter.

So please – READ THIS ONE (37) FIRST.

Your reviews, comments, reblogs, and extra hands for house-cleaning are all very appreciated! (If you'd just do the first three, that's okay. I'm certain a house-elf will turn up any day to take care of the fourth.) Also, a great big thank you to all of my reviewers, because this is now my most-reviewed fic, with 300 up to this point. THIS. IS. SPARTA!

Please keep it up, your thoughts on this ongoing saga keep me going. Truly, they do.

Charles waited for the wave to bring the stick back. Picking it up out of the foaming water, he waved it above his head.

"Ve!" he shouted. "Here it is!"

"Poor thing, he lost it," Daisy sighed. Both of them watched the dog paddle in. She leaned over and patted the animal's side. "Never mind, you've done well." Ve shook himself dry, then trotted up the beach to their camp.

"He's probably thirsty," Charles twirled the stick in his hand. "Elsie's there, she'll give him water."

He and his daughter walked further down the beach, talking about their time there. Daisy was elated her papa had finally given in, and was happy to spend their last day in the sea.

"It's so lovely. I'm going to miss it," she sighed, looking to the horizon. She jumped a little as a larger wave rolled in. It drenched her to the waist. "Well," she said laughing, looking at her father, "maybe not everything."

Grinning, Charles reached to pull a wet strand of hair from her face. "You'll take a little of it with you. All the sun you've gotten here – your freckles have come out!" He rubbed his finger across her cheeks and tapped her nose fondly.

"Hmm," she shrugged. "I don't like them." She walked a little closer to the shore.

"Why not?" he asked, curious. "They are a part of you."

"Maybe," she looked cross, "but they're ugly."

He put an arm around her shoulder, hugging her to him. "They are not," he murmured. "And never think they are. When your mother got lots of sunshine, freckles appeared on her face, too."

Daisy looked up at him, a question in her eyes. "Mum? She had freckles? I don't remember seeing them."

"She did," he assured her. "They'd appear in the summer, when she was with you and your brother, while you played in the meadow." At her dubious expression, he raised his eyebrows. "If you don't believe me, ask Thomas. I'm sure he remembers." He gave her a grin. "He has her eyes, you know."

"All right, I believe you," she half-smiled, returning his hug. They continued walking, their arms around each other. "I…don't remember what she looks like," she said abruptly. "I can't see her face anymore…not what she looked like when she was well, anyway. I remember her hugging me, telling me stories until I fell asleep, showing me how to bake bread. We did that a lot," she tried to smile, but her chin quivered.

Charles pulled her closer and kissed the side of her head. "It's all right," he whispered his arms around her. His heart ached for her. "You remember the things that are important. The things she taught you. That she loved you," he looked down at her and wiped tears from her face with his fingers. "You and Thomas. More than anything. You both were everything to her."

"B-but," Daisy protested, still crying, "What kind of daughter am I, forgetting what she looked like? It's insulting to her memory-"

"It's hard to remember everyone's faces when you don't see them every day," he tried to comfort her. "You aren't trying to forget your mother. It just happens." He sighed, letting a wave wash over their feet. Privately, he thought she may have tried to forget Alice, at least how she looked near the end of her life. She was ill for so long. "I don't remember my mother's face, either. Or my father's."

She snuffled against his chest. "They died a long time ago."

"Yes," Charles whispered, feeling his throat tighten. "But that doesn't mean I've forgotten them completely. Or that I don't miss them sometimes." Smiling, he gazed out at the sea. "I can still remember my papa's voice. Even if I was playing on the far side of the meadow and he was down the hill, I could hear his booming voice calling for me."

She giggled a little. "He sounds like someone I know."

"Oh? Who?" he asked in mock curiosity, raising his eyebrows. She shook her head a little, a gleam in her eyes, before her face grew serious again.

"How long did you remember them? After they died? Before…" Her voice trailed off. He knew what she asked without words.

"By the time your mother and I married, I had trouble remembering their faces," he confessed. They continued walking in the sand and water. "Mum died not long after Papa, when I was a little older than Thomas. Older than you," he said. "Your mother and I were betrothed before Papa sailed away, but we had to wait a while before we married. She was a great comfort to me." His vision was far off.

"You still remember what she looked like."

Nodding, he ran a hand through his hair, feeling how tangled it was in the wind. "She was a good woman, who was good to me."

He was glad in a way Daisy talked about Alice. He suspected Thomas talked about her more, but not to him.

There were times when he watched the flock that old memories would flit through his mind. They had faded, but many were still clear. Alice, walking to the house, carrying flowers. Her doing the washing in the stream. Baking bread and making cheese. Sitting with Thomas as a small boy beside the well, teaching him to read. Holding a newborn Daisy. Looking up to see him standing in the doorway. Love shining in her eyes.

"Do you miss her?"

Thankful his daughter could not read his thoughts, he squished his toes in the sand. "Sometimes," he said carefully. It was not a lie. He had missed her in the past. Especially in the seasons right after she had died. He had been very lonely.

But since his marriage to Elsie, he found his memories of Alice had changed. He thought of his first wife fondly, and sometimes wondered what she would say about certain things. Like Thomas serving the king, or Daisy growing into a woman. More often, it was with a certain twinge of guilt added on that he did not like to think about.

She loved me more than I loved her.

I wish I could have been a better mate. One she deserved.

We would have grown closer as we aged, surely, but we never would have had the same union as I have with Elsie.

They stopped. The waves kept reaching their feet.

"You loved her," Daisy watched her father. "Mum." She nudged him a little so he would look at her.

"Of course I did," he said, meeting her eyes.

"But not as much as you love Mother. Not as much as Elsie."

His face turned red. "I-it's not like that-" Stammering, he tried to think of a way to explain so as not to offend her. She half-smiled and patted his elbow.

"I know you do," she said quietly. "And I accept it. It's not that you didn't love Mum. But you're so happy now, not like when I was small. Then I remember you being happy sometimes. Now you…you are so calm all the time. Except when we came here to the sea, of course," her eyes twinkled a bit. "I don't know," she shook her head. "Maybe I can't explain it very well."

Charles could not think of what to say. A flood of emotion threatened to overwhelm him.

She knows. And she…accepts it.

My little girl is not so little anymore.

"Come here," he whispered, hugging her tight. She hugged him back. "You are right, you know," he said into her hair. "But just because I feel more deeply for Elsie doesn't mean how I feel towards my children has changed. I never want you or Thomas to think I don't love you with my whole heart."

"I know you do," she replied. "And Thomas knows that too, even if he won't admit it." She sighed. "I think what I'm afraid of is that I might love her more than Mum. And that'd be wrong. But I don't know if I do or not, or if it's just because Mother's here now." She took a step back and looked up at him, a glimmer of fear in her eyes. "I'd never want Mum to think I didn't love her more."

"And you never would, or have," he said confidently. "Trust me. You love your mother very much." More than you know. "And I know you love Elsie too," he put his arm around her and turned them around to face the other direction. "There is nothing wrong with that. She loves you dearly, but she would never supplant Alice. Not in your heart, or in Thomas's. She understands that, and she's not jealous of it. And while I can't say for certain, from what I know of your mother, I think she would be pleased to know you have someone nearby other than me who cares for you. But your mum will always be very dear to you. No matter if you forget what she looked like, or how many other people you care for."

Alice was not jealous, either.

He felt the tension leave her shoulders. "Do you really think so?" Daisy asked. Freya lay sprawled in the shade in the tall grass above the sand, and when they got nearer, she got up and trotted down to them.

"I know so." Charles bent down and rubbed the dog's head.

"I love you, Papa," Daisy petted Freya's back. "And you too," she said as Freya swung her head around to look at her.

"I love you, petal," Charles replied, a smile appearing on his face.

The late afternoon burned orange. The light sparkled on the rippling waves so much that Charles could not look directly into it. He turned sideways as another wave washed by him. Nearby, Thomas lazily swam back and forth, his arms visible.

Charles sighed, sinking until his nose was just above the surface, and pulling his feet up to tread water. He enjoyed swimming in the sea. He was sorry that his fear had kept him from enjoying it more, especially with his family.

At least I had one day. And last night.

Smirking, he closed his eyes as blissful memories danced through his mind. Elsie, being chased by the waves. Elsie, offering him her hand so they could have a paddle. Elsie, moaning beneath him…

Something grabbed his foot, and he was yanked under the water. He almost panicked but whatever grabbed his foot had let go, so he shot right back above the water. Spluttering, he made sure to set his feet firmly on the ground. His eyes burned from the salt water. He blinked, trying to see through the glare.

Thomas stood next to him, his expression nervous. Charles wiped his face.

"Was that you?"

"Yes," his son replied. He looked tense.

"Oh." Blowing water out of his nose, Charles tread water as another wave washed by them. Thomas, convinced his father was not about to explode, sighed and swam backwards.

Without warning, Charles tackled him and dunked him.

"Wha-" Coughing, Thomas resurfaced, his hair dripping. Charles laughed, poking him in the back.

"That should teach you a lesson, not to attack your old father," he said.

"I think I've got sand up my nose," Thomas grumbled, holding his face. "Ugh…" Laughing harder, Charles splashed him, feeling the smack of another wave against his back. Thomas bent over, wincing.

Until he suddenly turned and grabbed his father.

Charles gasped, but dug his feet into the sand, trying to throw him off. "You-won't move me-that easily-"

"We'll see," Thomas panted, smiling. They both lost their grip at the same time and tumbled underwater as a bigger wave crashed over them.

Daisy stood in the tall grass, her mouth agape. Elsie approached her from behind.

"Tell them to come in, the fish are almost done-"

"No!" Daisy held out her arm, stopping her from walking forward. "It can wait!"

"It certainly can," Elsie agreed, her eyes widening at the sight of the two scuffling in the water. She and Daisy looked at each other in delighted shock.

The sound of the waves echoed through the tent. Instead of lulling Charles to sleep, it kept him awake. He sighed, turning a little to stretch his arm. Elsie shifted a little. She pulled his arm back around her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered.

His breath tickled her neck. "You didn't," she murmured. "I was listening to the sea, and wondering how I'll ever sleep when we get home without it."

He kissed her shoulder. "You don't want to leave."

"No. But we must."

"I don't want to, either. At least, not in the morning. But then it's my own fault, for not recognizing the joy of the sea sooner." Charles laughed, then groaned. "Oooh…it was fun dunking Thomas, but he's fitter than I am."

Elsie giggled, running her fingers along his arm. "It was good to see the two of you enjoying yourselves. I'm so glad you're friends again."

"Yes," he smiled into her hair. "It's been a long time since we've spent time together, and not argued about something. I hope things between us will continue to improve after we go home. Maybe," he mused, "we needed to be away from home to see each other in a new way."

"Maybe." Turning over, she put a hand on his chest. "I've seen you in a new way, being here."

"How?" His arms pulled her closer.

"You were afraid," she whispered. "But you overcame your fear, and went into the sea anyway. I'm proud of you." She kissed him softly.

"I was enchanted by a beautiful woman under the stars," he murmured. "Without her help, I doubt I would have stepped into the water."

"Flatterer," her breath hitched as his lips left the curve of her jaw to dance across the soft skin of her neck. "I think even without my help, you would have gone in. You're braver than you know…"

Her words faded as her desire grew. He was so gentle, so tender, and he knew what she liked. His touch left her gasping.

"I need your help now," he rumbled against her chest. "Elsie, wife, I need…you."

"Now," she moaned, tears in her eyes. "Now, my lover, my husband-"

She cried out. He let out a gasp, mindful of the children sleeping outside.

The stars fluttered in the night sky.

The family left Staithes the next morning.

All of them, the dogs included, had one last walk in the water shortly after dawn. They could hear the crying of the seagulls long after they had ascended back to the top of the bluffs. The road seemed steeper climbing it than it had on their descent to the market town.

Charles let out a breath, and squeezed Elsie's shoulder. "Well done," he said. "I'm glad that ride is over, and I'm sure you are too!"

"I am," she said beneath her veil. She was not happy to wear it again, but knew it was the right thing to do. Just to be safe.

They took a less traveled road, one that went north of Loftus, before meeting the main road again. Their journey west was much faster. It was only partly due to them having a much lighter wagon, with only a few choice rams and ewes that Charles and Elsie had bought before they left the market.

Everyone was eager to get home.

Stopping at the king's palace in Painswick, they were welcomed again by Rosamund. The king, Marmaduke, was there as well, so they did not linger long.

Robert, Charles and Elsie agreed afterward, was much more fortunate with his mate than his sister was with hers. The ruler of Painswick did not seem a bad sort, but he did seem exceptionally dull and interested in little except hunting. Elsie was certain his kingdom was ruled mostly by his wife.

Rosamund had given Thomas several letters, all to members of her family. "I trust you," she had said to him outside the gates of her palace, "more than the messengers Marmaduke hires. They sell gossip like wine-sellers before a feast."

She had taken letters from Thomas and Charles, after asking what their contents were. They were short letters sent to Edward and Drake to tell them when the family would arrive back at home.

A rider, a personal servant of Rosamund's, would deliver them.

"Couldn't you send your letters with him as well, milady?" Thomas had asked, confused. "I am honored that you would send them with me, but there's no need." Charles had been no less perplexed.

"Your servant will have to go to the king's hall as well to give Thomas's letter to Edward," he frowned.

"I am aware of that," she had said. "I consider him more trustworthy than Marmaduke's men, but I only trust he will deliver your letters quickly. He may open them himself out of curiosity. My own letters have been opened by him in the past." She sighed. "I would not send Fred with yours if it wasn't more important that your letters arrive before you do."

"Indeed," Charles had agreed. He had written to ask May to go to the house and sweep it out before they arrived. Alfred and Andrew would return any day - if they had not already. No doubt Drake would be happy for his son Jacob to help with his farm again.

Neither he nor Thomas liked the idea of their letters being read by someone else, but there was nothing in them to interest a simple messenger from Painswick.

"Thomas," Rosamund had turned to the young man, "it is more vital that my letters to my brother and his family arrive unopened than that they arrive quickly. I know I can trust you to put them into their hands."

She had sent the family on their way with gifts of food.

Daisy sighed, glancing up at the sky. The rain had passed by, but instead of leaving a freshness behind, the air was more stagnant than ever.

"What's wrong?" Elsie asked. Her hood was down, and she was very grateful they were back in Robert's kingdom again. She would not have been able to stand the veil in the heat.

"Nothing," the girl sighed again, fidgeting. "I'm just ready to be home. I'm tired of sleeping in the wagon, or under it, or in the tent – when you and Papa let us, that is," she grinned. "My whole body aches from sitting all the time!"

"Mine too," Elsie glanced in the back of the wagon. Thomas and Charles sat on either side, half-asleep. "Especially my bum."

Daisy laughed through a yawn, nodding. "I hope Master Drake got Papa's letter, and May swept out the house. No one's been in there since the last moon!"

"If she hasn't, then we'll do it. Open the shutters, let air inside-"

"It's likely just as stifling there as it is here," Daisy grumbled. Elsie bit back a chuckle.

"You sound like Charles when you talk like that. Only a short way to go," she reminded her. "We passed Thirsk already. We should be able to see the trees around the shrine soon."

In a little while, she drove the wagon off the main road and onto a smaller path. The horses nickered. "You see?" Elsie said, keeping a tight hold on the reins. "They know their way home. We're nearly there."

The fields around Drake's farm were in full growth. The corn growing to the sky, the barley rich with nary a weed to be seen. A lad carrying two buckets on his shoulders saw them coming. He dropped them and ran towards the low house.

"We're here!" Daisy squealed, and called back to her father and brother. They both woke, rubbing their eyes. As Elsie drove closer to the house, a man and woman stepped outside.

A dog streaked from a shaded area near the goat pen towards them. The wagon had not come to a complete stop before Daisy jumped off the side.

"Daisy!" Charles yelled, trying to stand up.

"It's all right," Thomas said, a line on the side of his face. "She just wants to see Remme."

Daisy and Remme hit each other at the same time. The girl fell over, laughing, hugging the animal, as Remme licked her face.

"I missed you!" Daisy cried. "Oh, and here's Freya and Ve-"

Charles had opened the back of the wagon. Freya raced over to Remme, in the process knocking over Daisy again as she tried to stand up.

"I think they're excited, don't you?" Charles asked Elsie in an undertone, helping her down from the wagon.

"Yes, a little," she smiled at the two dogs, who whimpered in joy, nuzzling each other. Ordering Ve to stay by the sheep, she gave Daisy a hand to help her to her feet.

"Welcome back, Charles," Drake unharnessed the horses. He patted their noses. "You've taken good care of my animals, I see."

"Thank you. They were wonderful," Charles shook his hand. "The journey there was more difficult than the way back, thank the gods. How are our animals? How is the flock?"

"Doing well. The only problem Jacob had was boredom, but your lad Andy came back two days ago, so at least we've had some relief. May's at your house now. We received your letter two days ago." Drake looked down at Freya and Remme, who were still quite excited. "Remme was a great find. A better hunter I've never seen. Listen," he said, holding a small pouch of coins, "I'm willing to give you fifteen for her."

Smiling, Charles shook his head. "No. I appreciate the offer, but we're not selling her."

"If I can't persuade you, maybe I can persuade your wife," Drake looked in Elsie's direction. She had covered her head again with her hood.

"I doubt it," The smile on Charles's face faded. He did not miss the gleam in his neighbor's eye. And yet he knew it was rude to not at least introduce Elsie to Drake. "You can ask her, but I warn you, she will likely say no." He gestured for her to join them.

Elsie reluctantly made her way to the two men. It was not the look on Drake's face that made her hesitate. She was long used to that by now.

It was more the pinched face and suspicious eyes of his wife watching her.

Why should I care what she thinks? A mortal woman who thinks any female short of the priestesses is after her husband?

And yet she did care.

"Drake, this is Elsie," Charles said. "Elsie, this is Drake, May's brother."

"I'm pleased to meet you," Elsie took one look at the man's face and knew it was hopeless. He gaped at her openly, his eyes vacant.

At least Richard and other men in Downton had the restraint to be polite.

Charles cleared his throat. "Yes, we were talking about Remme. Drake made an offer for her."

"For Remme?" Elsie asked, raising her eyebrows. "That's very generous of you, but I'm sorry. We aren't selling her."

Drake's mouth still hung open. Thomas and Daisy glanced at each other, rolling their eyes.

"By the gods," Thomas muttered. "Is he going to slobber on the ground like one of the dogs?" Daisy stuffed her fingers in her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"…generous," mumbled the farmer.

His irate wife had had enough. She marched over to them and thumped her husband on the back of his head. Charles winced. He had a feeling it was not the first time that had happened.

"Ow!" Drake roared, holding his ear. "Oi, woman, what's the matter with you?"

"You disgrace yourself!" she snapped. "Can't even talk to the woman without looking like a fool!"

Despite not liking the way Drake looked at her, Elsie felt rather sorry for him.

"Mistress Petunia," Charles replied, "We were only talking about the dogs."

"Will you take his offer, then?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"No," Charles and Elsie said together.

"We thank you for letting us borrow her then, and for bringing our horses back in one piece," Petunia grabbed Drake's arm. He flinched. The two of them headed back to the house, Drake leading the horses, his wife berating him the whole way.

The family exchanged awkward glances.

"Let's go home." Thomas said in the sudden quiet.

"Good idea." Elsie divided the various bundles and water skins from the wagon that were theirs, and everyone carried something. Charles whistled for the dogs to guide their sheep, and they set out towards the meadow.

"Please tell me you won't ever be that jealous over me," Charles murmured under his breath.

"Of course I won't," Elsie playfully nudged his arm. She knew her husband had eyes for no one else.

A/N 2: I know, I know. Chapters getting them to Staithes, then I bring them back all in one. But stuff happens back at home...