A/N: So, this chapter is the last proper chapter before my series of epilogues begins. In fact, those epilogues begin during this chapter - which probably sounds weird, but you'll get what I'm doing as it goes on. I've said before I'm saving my emotions for what will probably be a stupidly long and tearful A/N in the final final chapter, but dear lord are those emotions excessive ;_;

Two dinghies sat on the beach - the one Groves had used to transport Beckett here, and the one Theo had taken with the others. When James and Groves were done dragging Beckett's body into the water to be claimed by the sea life dwelling within, those two dinghies would be bound for the two separate ships. The Pearl, and the Endeavour.

She and James would be on the latter of the two, along with Will and Elizabeth. Bootstrap, from what she understood, had elected to re-join Jack's crew, and while whether the couple would remain in Port Royal was still up in the air, they had to return for the time being anyway. Not least because it had been some time since Elizabeth had spent any length of time with her father.

It only made sense that she and James go with them. What else would they do, join Jack's crew? It was just that…well, Theo had never really considered what they might do. Sure, there were times when she'd dared to imagine their future after all of this, but that future had just included a lot of happiness and freedom to do whatever they liked. She'd never considered the minutiae. That, and the events of the day at large, had her standing by the dinghy bound of the Endeavour feeling almost numb with shock over it all.

"You know, if you'd really rather not go, there's still room on me crew for a seer," Jack sniffed.

"I'm not a seer anymore," she pointed out "My knowledge ends here. Now I'm just like every other fucker."

"Oh, well in that case the offer's off the table - be gone with you," Jack grinned wryly.

Theo breathed a laugh "You know, Jack, I'm really going to miss you."

As though it had been purposely covering for them, now that Beckett's body had been suitably weighed down and dragged into the water, the moon was slowly beginning to poke out from the clouds overhead, the pale light gleaming on the waves that lapped at their feet.

"We'll cross paths again sooner or later. I annoy your husband far too much for me to stay away for too long."

"Yeah," she laughed "Well. Thank god for James Norrington's loathing of you."

This would be too sad for her to face if she thought she'd never see him again.

"Is loathing truly the word? Hm. I'd say it's a bit strong, by my own reckoning. Nah, I think he's fond of me, really," Jack winked "Deep down."

So deep they'd find lava before they discovered any fondness.

"I won't ruin the moment by arguing with that," she said, and mentally applauded herself for her diplomacy.

"A moment? Were we having one?"

Theo smiled "I owe you my gratitude, Jack. I never could have changed anything - I never could have saved him - if you didn't give me a chance. There were a fair few times I wanted to hit you-"

"You did, if I recall."

"But if not for you, I wouldn't be here. Thank you."

"Any time," he shrugged "Just don't ask me to do it again."

"No danger there," she snorted "I don't think I've got another adventure in me."

Jack chuckled.

"This one's barely finished. Trust me, once you're all healed up…" he waved a hand vaguely towards her abdomen "And stuck back in civilised society, you'll be pining for piracy again."

"We shan't be in Port Royal for much longer, unless Theodora wishes otherwise," James' voice cut in from behind them, and when Jack turned to look at him he continued drily "If you're quite done trying to poach my wife."

"Jealous, are we, Admiral?"

"Yes. Terribly. I'm uncertain as to how I might sleep tonight."

The way Jack grinned and opened his mouth to respond to that had her downright certain he was about to seize that glowing opportunity for a filthy joke, but the look he received from James in response dissuaded him and proved that miracles did exist.

"Are you ready to go?" James asked, turning to her before Jack could think better of taking the high road "I shouldn't like to linger here much longer."

"Yeah, just hang on a second," she nodded.

Turning to Jack, she held out her arms in the universal gesture of hug-offering, and found herself smiling in surprise when he actually accepted it - even if she had to bend awkwardly at the hips so that her injuries wouldn't press up against him.

"Keep yourself alive, yeah, Jack? I'd miss you too much if I never saw you again."

"You wouldn't be sayin' that if we weren't parting ways," he chuckled.

"That's true. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder," she blinked any bleariness away from her eyes and finally stepped back.

When she did so, Jack splayed his arms out towards James, a cheeky grin on his face. It surprised nobody when James did not accept the offer of a hug - she suspected Jack would not have offered it in the first place if he thought he'd take him up on it. He wasn't able to revel in his smugness for long, though, because James gave an incredibly long-suffering sigh and then held out his hand, offering it to the pirate to shake. Jack blinked at it in mild horror, while Theo grinned and ducked her head, laughing to herself. How was it possible that she managed to love this man more and more every damn day?

Jack, however, was motivated by no such love and considered the hand for barely a moment before lifting both of his own up in mock-surrender, a lopsided grin on his face.

"I'd better not. Fool me once, eh?"

The callback to their very first meeting, although Theo had not witnessed it in person, served as a stark - and now, a very welcome - reminder as to how far they'd come. Giving another roll of his eyes that was dangerously close to being good-humoured, James redirected the hand that he had offered, resting it on her shoulder.

With a final nod and a tired smile to Jack, she grasped James' hand and allowed him to help her into the dinghy while the others said their own goodbyes. It was time to go.

Six Hours Later

The bed Theo next woke up in was a far more comfortable one. Upon returning to the Endeavour, James had tried to insist that Governor Swann take the Captain's quarters - in part because it was a nice gesture, but also because they didn't really relish the idea of dwelling in what had so recently been Beckett's living space. However, Swann refused and Groves made a good case for why James should take it. Theo had just about been dead on her feet by that point, her energy being spent on healing and bare-bones functioning, but she'd heard bits and pieces - points about how his taking up the Captain's quarters rather than slinking off below deck would cement his return to his proper station and the general consensus that he'd done nothing wrong - and she'd agreed with them all.

She'd shared his reservations as far as personal distaste for Beckett went, obviously, and that had only grown when they stepped into the quarters, dog-tired, and found it housed a giant portrait that was easily three times the size of the man himself. Happily, she found that once she'd removed any clothing that wasn't her shirt (which, given its bagginess, doubled decently enough as a nightshirt), with James' help, and slid under the covers, her body didn't really care whose bed it was in. For lack of less saucy phrasing. James had hardly stepped back outside again before she was out cold.

It was still dark out when she next opened her eyes, meeting James' gaze as he slipped back inside.

"Don't tell me I slept the whole day."

"You've scarcely slept the full night," he shook his head "It is not yet dawn."

"You look knackered. Surely this lot could sail back to Port Royal in their sleep."

"I had to show enough face to reestablish a presence," he said ruefully, undressing as he spoke - although he hadn't gone so far as to return to his full wig and regalia, instead seeing out his duties in the clothing she'd last seen him in "What comes next will be fragile, and we'll have to tread cleverly if not carefully, so that we may take our leave with anything resembling ease. But they are in Groves' hands now, which sets him up nicely as my successor, and thus can do without me for the time being."

Bruises littered his form, more and more exposed in angry shades of red and purple with each piece of clothing he rid himself of, and she made no effort to keep the concern from her face by the time he rounded the bed to climb into the free side.

"Are you alright?" she asked "Some of those look nasty."

"It's not myself that concerns me," he said.

"All the more reason for me to be concerned."

Her point was dampened a bit when she tried to roll onto her side to face him, and ended up cursing heartily for her troubles - but she kept at it, because if she had to lie on her back for another hour she'd really go mad.

"Are you well?" he asked quietly.

"I'm better than I was this morning…or yesterday morning technically, whatever. And this time tomorrow, I'll be better than I am now," she murmured "What about you?"

"I…" he hesitated and then admitted "I could not stop thinking about you, when I was out there."

"Oh?"

"The reality of, well, the reality of the matter has been sinking in - slowly, but gradually. There has been so much to contend with, I suspect for weeks and months to come it will hit me in stages, by degrees. Perhaps that's a good thing, for it would likely have me bedridden if I had to take it on all at once."

"That's fair - although I think you're underestimating yourself."

"I underestimated you," he countered "To live with the weight of that, for all of this time? I knew you grappled with something, and I knew you were strong, but this…I have soldiers who would balk at such an undertaking."

"Everything worked out in the end."

"It must have been terribly lonely - going through it all alone."

"James," she breathed, gazing at him "A lot of what I've faced here has been difficult, and scary, and often bloody well impossible, but it was never lonely. I haven't been lonely - not since…since you. Since we became us. That's what made the most difficult times here so difficult - after I left Port Royal that first time, and- and when Elizabeth accepted the proposal, because that was when I felt like I didn't have you there with me, regardless of where you were on a literal level, and that was when I really did feel alone. But otherwise? Every other time, throughout ninety-nine percent of everything? Maybe you didn't know what you were standing by me through, but you stood by me still. Unflinchingly. Without doubt."

"I seem to remember a few angry tirades mixed in," he pointed out drily.

"Mm, but you're very handsome when you're angry."

The grin he offered then was more handsome than his anger. By a mile. Theo couldn't help but return it as he replied.

"You do realise that if I said something similar to you, I'd lose a limb?"

"Only if you said it to me while I was angry. Plus I'm aware that I'm just absolutely stunning all of the time, anger included, so I'm not sure it counts when it's a blanket thing," she was painfully aware of the irony of her lying there teasing like this now, when she looked like she'd just been thrown into a blender. Twice.

"But it isn't such a blanket thing in my case?"

"Dare I bring up the wig again?"

He smiled again, softly this time "I see you're feeling better. And fear not, you shan't have to lay eyes upon said wig for much longer. We return to Port Royal for as long as it takes me to make certain arrangements, and for you to rest, and then we get our honey moon."

Theo smiled in wonder at the thought, also because he still said the phrase carefully - like it was two separate words. But she was feeling better, and so she frowned thoughtfully, at the top of his head.

"You know, now you've said that, I think the wig is growing on me."

"Theodora," he groaned, but it did nothing to disguise the good humour in his voice, deepening it impossibly still.

"In fact, I'm sad to see it go."

She had to lie on her left side to face him, so it took a bit of manoeuvring to bring her good hand up to toy with one of his dark locks.

"You're impossible."

"And you're still impossibly handsome with the wig," she said - sincere, then "But you have to admit, there were some good times in it. Like when you saved me from drowning or dying of exposure. That was fun."

"That…" he said "...was the singularly best thing I have ever done."

Hearing from her husband that he was overall pretty pleased that he'd saved her life back when they'd first met probably shouldn't have made her as emotional as it did, and if he sat her down and told her that he'd been more pleased by a really good shot he made in some battle she probably wouldn't have been thrilled, but James Norrington's list of accomplishments was three times the height of the man himself. Maybe more. There was just something in actually hearing that she stood above them all that threatened to overcome her.

"You know, for a man who claims he's no good with words, and that he massively prefers actions, you really know how to bowl me over with them every time."

"After what you just confessed to me, I must do my best to keep up."

"You do far more than that."

"Good," he said, shifting so that he could lean over her and press his lips against hers.

It couldn't go anywhere further - they were both exhausted and held together by duct tape and determination at this point, but that didn't mean they could not kiss for the sole pleasure of kissing itself. Although there was a hefty amount of gratitude in there, too. At being alive, at being together, at finally being able to look to the future.

Theo wasn't even able to thread her fingers through his hair, what with her right hand being in the state that it was. Instead, she lifted it and pressed the backs of her knuckles to the side of his face, brushing them downwards, across the stubble beginning to form at his jaw. She strongly suspected the action made her look like something out of Tarzan, but at least his eyes were closed. In any case, he hardly seemed to mind, his lips slotted over hers and his own fingertips ghosting up over her cheek, then back down again, over her chin and down her throat until they ventured to the back of her neck and threaded upwards, burying themselves in her hair and pulling her impossibly closer still.

When he broke away, it was only to murmur an I love you against her lips before he kissed her again, repeating the process a few indeterminable moments later. If there was any doubt in her mind that the kisses were meant to contain all of the intensity of the ones he thought he'd never be able to give again, the words cemented the suspicion, for they were uttered with the same goal. Which was why, damn the pain, she grasped at his shirt with her dodgy hand and used it as an anchor, sighing happily as she returned his fervour.

There was no way of telling how long they'd been lying there, lost in their kisses and proclamations of love, but they only pulled back when the aches and pains and fatigue finally demanded to be felt. Even so, when they did part, it wasn't much of a parting - their noses still brushed, and when her eyes opened she found his own roving over every detail of her face as though he still didn't dare believe she was here, alive and well. It was a feeling she knew, and she also knew he probably saw much of the same thing reflected right back at him.

"Did I hurt you?" he murmured.

"Not at all," she shook her head a little.

Stiffly uncurling her fingers from his shirt, she slid them up to his shoulder. She suspected she'd aggravated them the most, but she didn't really care. Getting comfortable again was a slow, halting matter as they both tried not to aggravate the other's bumps and bruises while still remaining close, but soon she leaned against him in the bed while he reclined on his back, one arm slipped behind her with a palm pressed against the flat expanse of her back to steady her.

"A life, for the both of us," he mused quietly.

"No more knowledge of the future," she murmured in relief.

"No more secrets."

"No more secrets," she agreed, speaking softly into the darkness "In that spirit, though…"

His chest tensed below her hand and she continued quickly.

"It's nothing sinister. I wasn't even going to bring it up, not tonight, but…Jack gave me something. A parting gift?"

"Nothing sinister and Jack Sparrow are two things that I rarely, if ever, associate with one another," he remarked drily.

"Do you remember the mushrooms Tia Dalma gave me? Well, the ones he passed on to me in Tortuga, I mean?"

"I remember the heart attack your reaction to them threatened to induce."

"She had more. He found them, and he gave them to me while you were dealing with Byam."

"Ah," he said slowly, and then took a moment to gather his thoughts before he responded "I trust you realise that she mightn't be the only one they bring you to?"

"They wouldn't be weighing on me so much otherwise," she admitted quietly - and then hoped Achtland wouldn't take offence to that fact if she was listening.

"But there's also no guarantee," he pointed out.

"I know that, too," she said "There's…there's enough for two. The both of us could go."

"It seems a moment in which my presence may be intrusive," he murmured.

"Never," she shook her head "I'd want you to be there. If you would want to be there."

"I don't express my misgivings out of a lack of desire," he reassured.

"It's just that…well, I can't help but feel like this is probably the only chance there'll ever be for it to be all of us together. In the same- well, it's not quite a room, but you know what I mean. He's…he was…we were so close. I know you've already met him, but I didn't get to see that."

If saying who he was outright was too painful, referring to that closeness in the past tense was a close second as far as agonising admissions went.

"I'd like for us to all be together. If we can be. But if you're too tired, or if-"

The hand that was not at her back came up to clasp her hand that laid at his chest - but in his care not to aggravate it, he held her palm more than he held her hand properly.

"My thoughts are only with what is best for you. If you'd like me to be there, then I would be honoured at being included. When?"

That was a good question. Had she been presented with the prospect of this possibility a day or two ago, she'd have thought that she'd have immediately wolfed down the mushrooms the moment the opportunity to do so presented itself, horrific taste or no. But now that the opportunity was real, now that it was presenting itself, she felt strangely apprehensive - caught between wanting to seize the pouch from where it sat in the pocket of her breeches on the floor, and wanting to forget they were there at all. Overall, though, she knew that if she didn't think of them, nor speak of them, they would be all she thought about until she at least conjured a plan of action.

But all of that was too much to voice, and so she spoke of another very valid concern instead.

"You're tired."

"I am," he confessed "But I won't find true rest until we're home again. Truth be told, I'd only intended to come in here, lie down, rest my eyes, and bask in the company of my wife rather than make any real attempt at sleep. I seem to remember last time they knocked you out for much of the night, and you awoke refreshed the next morning."

Well. That was a fair point. Theo nodded slowly.

"Where are they?" he asked.

"I'll get them," she said.

He protested somewhat as she slipped - haltingly - from the bed and took up the breeches, mostly just to prove to herself that she could. She enjoyed the prospect of being bedridden about as little as anybody would, but it was something she'd be willing to tolerate if it meant she'd heal well. The last thing she wanted was to be that idiot who made their injuries worse because they insisted on going to the gym with a sprained ankle. That being said, when she could move, she tried to do so - because the longer she lay there, the longer she drove herself mad with half-baked conspiracies that her range of motion had been forever hampered by this, like if she rested for too long her body would forget that it could move. It felt good to disprove them.

Lying back down and getting comfortable again was more difficult than getting up had been, but James helped her with a hand at her back, and then her shoulder, bearing some of her weight as she slowly reclined again so that she wouldn't have to use any of her core muscles, aggravating her wound.

There was a light sweat on her brow when she was finally settled again, and she was a little bit breathless as she held the pouch between them, but otherwise she was well - and proud of her tiny victory.

"Are you up to this now?" he asked "You're sure? Even if your father does yet wait on the other side, I'm sure he would not fault you if you chose to rest for the time being."

There was something about it being voiced so concretely, framed in the way that he did, that sealed the deal. That made it real in her mind. Emptying the contents of the pouch into the palm of her hand, she nodded to him and he took up around half of the pale, dried mushrooms in his fingertips and then looked at her, waiting for her signal. When she nodded again, they threw them back like they were doing shots together, wearing matching looks of distaste as they forced themselves to chew and swallow.

Theo settled back down after they were finished, nestling closer into his side and pressing her lips together, doing her best to pretend she wasn't nervous. Either she did a piss poor job at that, or James just knew her well enough not to buy it, because the hand that snaked around her shoulders and came to rest atop her right arm squeezed gently in reassurance. By the time she started falling asleep, she wasn't even aware that she'd closed her eyes.

When she woke up, a hand still rested atop her upper arm, but it was not James'. It was rougher, and slightly smaller. Just as she did not recall falling asleep, she did not remember where she had fallen asleep, and panic gripped at her blindly and all at once - thoughts of Beckett's face, of Mercer's face flying through her mind and sending her eyes flying open as she scrambled to push herself up…and immediately cried out in pain for her efforts.

But the hands that scrambled against the bed were not in the bed at all, meeting only cool moss and damp dirt. And that jolted a bit of reality into her; right on time for a voice to meet her eyes.

"Steady there, lass. You're alright, Theo - d'ye hear me? You're fine. Safe."

Of course he'd understand where her mind had gone. He might not have seen the kind of battle that she had, but he'd still seen battle nonetheless - and a war was a war was a war. Breath stuttering in time with her heart, she finally lifted her chin…and saw her father, kneeling on the ground beside her. It was then that Theodora began to cry.

In reality, cry was a bit of a mild word for it. No, she bawled - heart-wrenching, all encompassing sobs as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him tightly enough to crack a rib. This time she didn't give a crap about the pain.

"You'll set me off," he warned with a sniff - as if he wasn't already damn well sobbing too "You've done yourself proud, Theodora Byrne. So, so proud. I've never been prouder - I couldn't be prouder. I didn't know it was possible to be this proud."

He fell backwards onto his backside and, given how they clung onto each other, Theo went with him, trying to stifle her cries enough to muster thoughts before she could even move on to worrying about words. He smelled like home - that smell that was impossible to notice unless you left for a long time and then returned - and of that beard oil he'd always loved so much. It was a smell she hadn't even realised she'd forgotten until she was reminded of it, and that just made her cry all the harder.

They sat like that for a long time, crying and hugging on the ground, her dad rocking her slightly like she was some sort of terrible overgrown baby, smoothing his hand over her hair. It was a long time - the whole night, it felt like - before they managed to stop crying, and longer still before they stopped relapsing into smaller spells of sobs.

Finally, they released their hold on one another and he shuffled back while remaining sitting so he could get a good look at her, and she was able to do the same with him. He'd gone far greyer in their time apart, growing just a shade thinner too, and she felt terrible that she might've had something to do with that.

"How long has it been?" she asked "For you? I don't know how time…"

"A couple of years, give or take," he answered "About the same, really."

She nodded, not sure what to do with that information now that she had it. It was good in a way, really - she'd been traumatised as kid by an episode of Doctor Who, where he left a woman alone for what he thought was a minute and it ended up being a lifetime. The idea of everybody back home being dead in their own timeline before she'd even been pulled aboard the Interceptor in this one was a horrible thought. Too horrible.

"You've stopped dyeing yer hair, I see," she sniffled, wiping at her eyes.

He grinned and then laughed "You're still a cheeky piece of work, then. Good. And if we're to sit here and talk of who looks like they've been through the wars as of late…"

It was then that he trailed off, the smile slipping from his face as he took in her hand (highlighted all the more by how she wiped her face with it), and then the spot where she'd been stabbed, even though her current shirt was not bloodied and gave no indication of it.

"If you hadn't killed them, I would have found a way to do it meself," he said grimly.

Theo was already opening her mouth to profess that it hadn't been her - not totally, and definitely not in Mercer's case - when she noticed that it wasn't her that he spoke to at all, but somebody over her shoulder. She'd forgotten all about James. Turning her head, she found him standing beside the log on which Achtland sat, both of them watching the scene that had just unfolded. Achtland's impossibly beautiful features were serene, impassive even, but James' brow was furrowed and his eyes were filled with sorrow. They were back in Achtland's forest clearing - the one that appeared to be Ireland, but could not have truly been Ireland - the campfire from last time still burning merrily beside them, although it didn't feel like it gave off much heat for the size of it. It only added to the dreamlike quality of the place, even though she felt more lucid than she ever did in dreams.

Wiping her eyes yet again, Theo forced a smile and waved him over.

"I hear you two have already met," she said.

Her father's hand below her elbow helped her rise slowly to her feet, and he responded as he helped.

"Aye - it's good to see you again. I'll resist the urge to start with the 'I told you so's," her dad greeted.

"If you did, I fear I would deserve it," James answered, approaching.

"I'm sorry I wasn't around to introduce you two properly," she said, looking between the two of them.

It felt like some sort of strange dream - and she supposed it was, in a way - to see them both side by side. She'd long made peace with the fact that she'd never see it, or so she thought, and while she was thrilled and overwrought to have been proven wrong, it also gave her a painful awareness of what they were being robbed of. No taking their future children (if indeed they were to ever exist) to see their granda. No big Christmasses all spent together. No more fishing, camping, or hiking trips together - and no introducing James to any of those traditions. No more movie nights. No more going to him for advice.

Christ, she'd lost it all before once and she'd mourned it then, but now she felt like she was losing all of it all over again - only this time it was weirdly worse, because she knew that she was losing it. She hadn't known back then, when she'd touched the stones. By the time she did know, it was already done. There was nothing to do because there was nothing that she could do; not besides mourn. Now? Now she felt like the bones were being ripped out of her one by one.

Tears burned her eyes once again, and the lump lodged itself right back into her throat. This time, however, she thought it. If this was to be her last chance, she refused to spoil it by sobbing incoherently all the way through it.

"Then you'll also know I knew him before we met - I saw it all," there was a beat of silence and then he coughed before adding "Not it all, mind. Not everything, so you can stop looking all embarrassed, I'll go to me grave not knowing what yer arse looks like, lad."

The joke, at least, jolted her out of her tears somewhat and yanked a few watery laughs out of her. While she expected James to be horrified by it, and maybe he was a little, she was surprised to find him giving a rueful snort, shaking his head for a few moments as he searched for how to respond, before he finally looked to her.

"I can see now where Theodora gets it from."

Her dad's hand landed at her shoulder and he squeezed. It stayed there as she began to fend off a fresh round of sobs.

"We've no more mushrooms," she murmured.

It had to be acknowledged. Even if doing so hurt.

"I might be wrong, but I don't think you need them," her dad replied "First few nights I was brought here I was absolutely off my face, right enough, but not every time since. My liver couldn't've stood it."

All eyes turned to Achtland then, seeking either confirmation or denial. She returned their gazes evenly for a few moments before she spoke.

"Your kind are not often able to see what is not directly before you. The mushrooms, the beverages, they merely lower your defences and allow me to make contact."

"They unlock the door, so you can open it," Theo murmured.

Queen Achtland smiled like a proud mother "Just so. It may not be as easy without, but it certainly remains possible."

When Theo breathed a sigh of relief, the goddess continued.

"I would, however, caution you against taking these meetings for granted. This mightn't be the last, but it's hardly the same as calling upon a loved one who resides some ways down the street. Already you have resided where you do now for almost two years, and yet this remains our second meeting, Theodora Norrington - and you are hardly the only mortals under my care."

She was probably making lots of very good, very wise points, but it was difficult to heed them under the all-consuming relief that this would not be the last time. For all that it failed to dry her tears. It did, however, leave her able to think a bit more clearly.

"A moment, if you please?" James asked.

At first she thought he meant that he wanted to speak to her dad privately, but then he looked in Achtland's direction and Theo blinked in surprise. He'd shown little other than distaste and distrust for the being. Then again, he had offered Jack a handshake tonight, too, so he must've just been in a very good mood.

"How is everyone?" Theo asked as they stepped away to the other side of the fire.

Her dad still watched her intently - like he thought he was going to be tested on the tiniest details of her appearance the second they parted ways again. She knew she saw differences in him, the toll that the last couple of years had taken on him, so she couldn't help but wonder what differences he saw in her. Christ knew she hadn't exactly spent the last couple of years kicking back with her feet up.

"Torn," he admitted "You should've seen how things were in the beginning. The search parties, the scale of the effort. You're well loved, my girl."

"I know," she murmured "I know."

"You are here, too, by the looks of things," he cast a glance in the direction of James, speaking intently to Achtland who appeared thoughtful but largely unmoved "I've seen few men so heartbroken as he was last night."

"I know that, too. He's a good man, dad. A great one."

"And I know that," he admitted with a snort "Otherwise I'd be giving you the ear beating of a lifetime for risking what you did for him."

"What can I say? I get that from you."

He smiled ruefully "And from your uncles, no doubt."

"They're torn?" she brought him back to the matter at hand.

Grimacing, her dad scratched at the back of his neck and then sighed before speaking frankly - like he always did.

"On whether there should be a funeral or not."

Theo's eyes fluttered shut "Fuck."

"Didn't start 'til you'd been gone a full year - and even then it was only a few. S'pose there'll likely be more who just don't want to say it to me, though. Don't let that fool you, though, there's plenty who insist you're still out there somewhere. That you'll turn up. You see it happen, right enough, missing people croppin' up after ten, twenty years being gone. They want to believe it about as much as I did, and they'll never stop hoping 'til a body's found."

"And a body never will be found."

"No," he sighed "I expect not. Unless I'm at the mercy of some very strong delusions right about now."

"I could pinch you."

"No need, I'm not half as creative as I'd need to be to dream up all of this," he snorted "Something from Taken I could conjure up, but this? My daughter was transported to a fictional land of pirates? Not my speed."

"You just want to be Liam Neeson," she smiled sadly.

"Theo, you know as well as I do that if somebody'd taken you, they'd have been dead within the month."

"Don't let James hear you, he'll get nervous."

Her dad snorted "Aye. Well, he's no need to be. He's a good one - wanted to knock some sense into the two of you on more than one occasion, but I don't think I would've handled any of it much better."

"You taught me everything I know," she said quietly "I don't know what I'm going to do now that…"

Now that there was little else he might have the time or opportunity to teach her ever again. Tears stung her eyes again and she looked directly upward. The sky here was strange - oddly empty and featureless, despite the sunlight that she'd seen shining through the trees last time she was here. The "day" on this occasion was bleaker - grey, with fog threatening to infiltrate the clearing.

"C'mon now - none of that, don't be daft."

Despite the sternness of his words, there was a distinct wobble to them that betrayed his emotions. Even if she hadn't noticed that, the way his hand threatened to shake as he rested it on her shoulder was unmistakable.

"I meant what I said," he reiterated as she tried to pull herself together "I could not be prouder to have you as a daughter, Theodora. Watching all you've done since you were taken - there are things you did that I don't know if I'd have managed it."

"Oh please, you were a soldier."

"Exactly. I was given my mission, and I used what I had along with my wits to see it through. You? You took it all upon yourself, you formulated a plan, and you stuck to it. You succeeded. Without a team. Without help, a lot of the time. Without proper training. I'd bet money on there being a thing or two you could teach me at this point. You learned it all on your feet, taught yourself it. You don't need me there holding your bike steady while you pedal anymore."

They'd never really been a lovey-dovey little family. Theo had always more or less chalked that up to who he was, and who she'd been raised to be thanks to that. Yes, he cared, and he loved her, and he was proud, but they didn't sit about saying that. What was the point?

"I thought there'd be more time," she murmured, shaking her head.

He'd been young when she was born - well, by her standards. Barely past twenty. And he was in good health, fit and eating right. Barring some terrible accident or stroke of ill fortune, she'd always more or less assumed she'd have him around until she was at least in her sixties. Maybe her seventies, if she was really lucky. And by then her own kids would have been grown, and they'd have learned as much from him as she had. It seemed a naive thing to bank on, but also a ghoulish thing to doubt. But now, more than ever, she was faced with how she'd taken it for granted. And Achtland had just warned her against that.

"Foolish of me, probably," she added.

"Foolish?" he echoed with a grin "Christ, they really have made you one of them. We're both fools, though, because so did I. And I've seen enough to know better."

"So have I now."

"Are you going to do it? Give them a funeral?"

"No," he said readily "You're not dead. Even if I didn't know this, I wouldn't bury you 'til I was sure, and I wouldn't be sure without a body."

Any temptation she may have had to play devil's advocate - to argue for things like closure for the people who could not know, or cover stories - faded to insignificance when she heard his tone. He would not hear any argument, and she didn't want to spend this time arguing.

"Thank Christ you do know," she murmured.

He made a noise of agreement. As terrible as this was, it was worlds better than his not knowing.

"I'd tell them if they'd believe me, but they wouldn't. And I do know," he echoed in agreement "And I also know you're far happier here with me new son-in-law than you ever were at home."

"I wasn't unhappy at home."

"Maybe not, but you were lost."

"But now I'm found?" she asked drily "Was blind but now I see?"

"I'll tolerate the fancy words, but if you start spouting bible verses at me I'm outta here," he laughed, shaking his head.

"You like him, then."

"So much that I keep forgetting he's English."

"I don't hold it against him, either," she gave a soft smile.

"Speaking seriously, though, if I liked him less I'd be begging for you to find a way back," he said "I'd have liked to have spoken to him more, but he's a good man. A damn good man. You had a fair few rotters hanging around in the past, but him? No comparison. No contest. Just a shame I didn't get to grief him a little bit in the beginning."

"He'd have borne it with impressive amounts of decorum."

"All the better, I like a challenge."

"So do I, turns out," she said ruefully.

"Oh, it was never Keira's game once you turned up. Not as far as he was concerned, anyway."

Theo snorted, mostly at his referring to Elizabeth like she was her actress "I'll take your word for it. I wonder what they're talking about."

The they to which she referred was James and Queen Achtland. He'd started off speaking to her pretty intently, but James was often intense about anything he took even half-seriously, so that didn't narrow it down nor offer many hints. Achtland listened to him not without compassion, but it appeared she was largely unmoved by whatever he was saying - answering in short sentences and with slow, firm shakes of her head. Her responses did not change as James' temper appeared to build, but something odd changed in her expression. Not quite amusement - but something close to it, although she didn't appear to be laughing at him, either. It was a sort of fondness. Theo wondered if she had new competition.

"He's asking her if there's any way I can be brought through to your side," he said.

Whipping her head around to stare at him, she took a moment to really comprehend what he'd just said.

"What?"

"Mm. And she's telling him the same thing she told me the first time I asked - the first time I was here and actually believed any of it."

"It's…not possible," she didn't frame it as a question, because she already knew.

If it was, he'd have been there, fighting with them today. The thought of that had her feeling oddly grateful, but that was all she was really pleased over it for.

"No. 'Fraid not. Anybody who knows you can see that you belong here, but apparently I don't. Your man's having almost as much trouble taking that for an answer as I did."

As if sensing their attention on him, James turned his head and upon finding them watching him from across the great campfire, he sighed and bowed his head, finally stepping away from Achtland.

"She gave you the same answer she gave me meself, I expect," her dad said.

James' lips pressed into a thin line.

"I had not intended to share my aim unless I found myself successful in pursuing it," he replied "I hoped to stave off disappointment. Although I expect I am not the first to ask - nor would I have been the last."

He looked to her as he said the last part, an apology in his eyes. It was an unneeded one.

"Thanks for trying anyway," Theo offered a sad smile.

"Of course," he said - like it was a given that he would try.

And, knowing James, maybe it was. But she'd learned her lesson here about taking things for granted - and where he was concerned she would never take his presence as a given. Not after everything they'd gone through. Which reminded her.

"I think it's my turn with the big'un," she murmured, casting a glance in Achtland's direction.

As if she knew what she was saying - which, to be fair, she probably did - the goddess was watching her expectantly, a small smile on her face. It looked a bit unnatural, but that didn't really mean anything sinister. Her features were so otherworldly that they almost looked like they shouldn't be able to move, much like a statue or a porcelain doll.

Her dad's hand slid from her shoulder as she stepped away, making slow progress around the fire. James stretched out a had, a silent offer of help, but she waved it away and when she did, he stepped instead towards her father. She heard them begin to speak as she approached Achtland.

"You have my apologies, sir."

"Call me Tony, son - we're family now. Might as well act like it with what time we've got."

"I should have believed you. When you said she survived."

"You were scared."

"...Yes."

"So was I. Don't worry about it."

Their conversation faded into murmurs - either not meant for her ears, or because she was distracted by Achtland as she approached. Once again she was dressed from head to toe in deep green, shades that seemed richer and more vibrant even than all of the dense foliage that surrounded them.

"Sit by me, Theodora Norrington," she greeted after staring at her for a few long moments with something that closely resembled smugness.

Theo stared at the space on the log beside her like it was some great obstacle, and one graceful hand slowly extended out towards her so that she might help. The goddess' hands were like ice, but she was glad for the help, and slowly managed to sit at her side.

"Thank you," Theo said quietly.

"You should heal swiftly. My hand will reside in that, too, for I'll keep my promise to your love."

"Will I be able to…er…will we have children? With the area, it could be a concern…"

"Would you not prefer to discover the answer for yourself?"

"Not really, no."

"A shame, for you must. I shall not tell you."

"Ha. Yeah. That sounds about right. Well…thank you for that, too, then - the healing - but it wasn't the help sitting down that I was talking about when I said thanks. It was…everything. I don't think I thanked you last time."

"You were fearful," she echoed Theo's father's words from moments ago back to her somewhat "However, I help those who help themselves. I told your husband that, and I meant it in more ways than one."

Theo mulled over the words slowly.

"Was it always a given, then? That I'd save him? So long as I tried?"

"Darling girl, nothing is ever a given. Your saving his life proved that, did it not? Calypso speaks of destiny, and yet even that was swayed here and now. Countless possibilities, countless fates, were born and grown from the moment you woke up in your new world. Some perished before they had a chance to take flight, others were averted, and some are now etched forever in history. You shall never know all of them, nor how close they came to existence. And now they matter not."

The possibilities were making her head hurt. How many nights she'd spent, unable to sleep turning over possible outcomes over and over. And now none of them mattered. Over the course of one action, or ten, they shifted from painfully pressing to utterly insignificant.

"I hardly know what to do with all of the freed up headspace," she murmured.

Achtland smiled - and this smile was beautiful rather than unsettling "Look to the future."

Theo breathed a laugh. That was hardly something that was new to her. Although it was newly pleasant.

"Thank you for the opportunity, then, to do what I did. It's weirdly more comforting to know it was me, and not some pre-ordained thing. Although I don't think I'd be saying that if I hadn't succeeded," she said "And for the help."

"And I give you my thanks for the occupation, Theodora," Achtland smirked, lifting a hand and smoothing it over Theo's hair as she considered her "Pass them on to James. I would do so myself, but I fear he has not much fondness for me. I have heard your gratitude, and I accept it. Now go - to your father. I suspect it's him you wish to see for the time you've left."

Her words were laced with the suggestion that her time here was drawing to a close - for this visit, at least, and Theo planned to take her at her word that she couldn't grow comfortable enough to rely on the guarantee of a next time. The urgency had her rising without help, albeit with a wobble once she was on her own two feet, and returning.

"How's it going?" she asked in greeting.

"We've managed to evade an Anglo-Irish war thus far," James said drily.

"Oh good, give it at least another couple of days - we need a break," she said brightly - but that brightness quickly faded as she inhaled shakily and continued "I get the impression we don't have long left here."

She did not pass on Achtland's thanks for the entertainment, for she didn't imagine James would take those thanks with much cheer at all.

For someone who'd just told her c'mon, none of that, her dad looked damn well dangerously close to blubbering, too…she noted through her own tear-filled eyes, suddenly having no idea what to say. Stepping forward, her dad pulled her into a bear hug - one which she responded to by clinging onto him like she might be able to drag him back into her world with her.

"I'll give the two of you a mo-" James began.

"You're not getting away that easy - come on, lad, bring it in."

Theo laughed into his shoulder, turning her head to see James staring at him in dismay.

"Bring what…where?"

Removing one arm from around her, her dad reached out and all but yanked James into what was probably the most awkward group hug in the history of man (for her husband, at least) but - bless him - he did not fight it. Theo closed her eyes, and tried to commit the smell of that damn beard oil to memory. The last thing she remembered was choking out an I love you, and having it returned in kind, rasped out into the top of her head as a tear or two soaked into her hair.

When she opened her eyes to broad daylight what felt like a second later, it was James' arms - and James' arms only - that remained wrapped around her, and she was caught between laughter and tears. But, to her surprise more than anybody else's, it leaned more on the side of the former than the latter.

A/N: Twenty pages on Google Docs. Twenty pages. I'm so sorry.

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