A/N: I made a spotify playlist for this story for those who might be interested. It's vaguely in order (which is the beauty of my having separated this story into three parts all named after songs), it's pretty eclectic, and it's filled with songs I listened to while writing this beast. I'll put a link up to it on Tumblr (where my username is esta-elavaris), but it's literally just called "CTW" on spotify, my username over there being miotasach.

Six Years Later

James suppressed an exceedingly unprofessional groan as he sat back in his office. They chose Marygrove as Norne's base of operations as far as logistics went because of the port's proximity to home - if they planned well and made good time in travel and business both, they could often be there and back within one day. So long as outside factors did not conspire against them. Or rather, against him. Theodora had not been able to accompany him on this occasion, and hence his desire to conclude matters swiftly arose, for he did so hate to leave her behind in her current condition.

He'd arrived at his office and seen to business quickly - ridding the payroll of a Captain who had gotten a bit too comfortable with his authority, and reviewing the list of suggested replacements for the ship in question - when the lad he employed to keep the more minor matters in order in his absence stopped him.

"There's a man who's been asking for you around port, sir, while you were gone," he'd explained "I told him you were never absent for too long and if he was willing to rent a room he'd be able to meet with you sooner or later - didn't want to give him your home address, just to be safe."

"Good," James had replied - for the last thing he wanted was some idiot who told every potentially vengeful pirate from his past right where he might find him and his "Where might I find him?"

"I said I'd bring him to you, sir, when you returned - if you're willing to wait?"

"Very well."

What he'd wanted to say was 'and you couldn't have done so when I'd first arrived?', but there was no changing that now, and thus he was resigned to sitting and waiting and watching the afternoon sun creeping in warm and glowing through the window. It mattered not - he would leave tonight either way, for if he remained and slept here for the night he would find no rest and worry himself sick. It just meant he'd have to be twice as careful on the road, travelling alone at night.

It was only when he heard the door downstairs ring open and the fall of boots on the hardwood flooring making their way up the stairs to his office that it even occurred to him to cease his worrying, and consider who might've been seeking him so desperately to begin with. So long as it was anybody but Jack bloody Sparrow, he'd be pleased. Six glorious, blissful years without him were still not enough.

But he hardly thought Sparrow would wait here for long - were he inclined to wait for James at all. No, he'd be far more likely to traverse the entire region of northwest England, knocking on (or down) doors until he came across the right one. He also certainly would not approach with anything resembling quiet or good manners.

The Turners, perhaps? But no, surely they would go straight to Keswick, and last he'd heard they boasted no less than three children by now, and so were unlikely to remain idle and cramped here. This was shaping up to be a real mystery.

A knock sounded on his office door, the glass panes in it too mottled to give away the identity of his visitor, and then it swung open and James found himself blinking in surprise at the sight of Theodora Groves, standing in the doorway and looking very much like he was unsure as to whether he was allowed to be there.

"Lieutenant Groves?" He rose, rounding the desk.

"It's just Mr Groves, now - and it was Commodore Groves, before that."

A great deal of the tentativeness drained from his posture as James smiled and shook his hand. He'd known that, of course - his promotion to Commodore, at least - but last time he'd seen him, he'd been a Lieutenant.

"Of course, I knew that. Old habits," he said in the way of an apology, shaking his old friend's hand "How are you?"

"I'm well, mostly. Although I've a tale or two to tell. Is Mrs Norrington here? Word reached me of her surprising amount of involvement in the business, I had thought that when you came, it would be both of you - it seemed…neater to only tell this particular tale once."

"I'm sure you did hear," James said grimly "A small number of the men take issue with it. Typically the least skilled, and typically the ones who don't last long."

Through his insistence more than Theodora's. He was far less willing to see his wife sneered at than she was willing to be sneered at - although she gave as good as she got, and even won a few over thanks to that fact.

"It's all right, they quickly learned I was the wrong man to gripe to on that matter - and I can provide names if need be. Or at least descriptions. And nobody who knows the two of you should really find it surprising."

"Theodora is not here - as a matter of fact, I was preparing to return home to her. If you're up for a journey tonight?"

"Of course. In truth, I was hoping you'd say that."

"She would never forgive either of us if she didn't see you. Come - I don't mean to rush you, but we should leave now if we're not to arrive in the wee small hours."

They rode too quickly for conversation to be at all possible, but James suspected Groves was not in much of a mood to chat. The fact that he was dressed as a civilian (and named as such, these days) set his mind somewhat at ease - if this had been official Navy business set to drag him back into a life with which he had no interest in, there would have been missives bearing the King's seal, as well as a lot of pomp and ceremony. Theodora's dreaded wigs would have been involved. There was not, which suggested that this was personal. And Groves, while more or less unchanged by time, appeared tired. A shade thinner than before, with dark circles threatening to emerge beneath his eyes.

Whatever troubled him was personal, and if he no longer bore a military title and had sought them out not only at their place of business, but wished to speak to both of them upon finding out they had equal authority in said business…well, it hardly took a genius-minded sort to puzzle out where this was going. But Groves was almost as proud as James could often be, and would likely need some time mustering enough comfort to make whatever request he had.

The fact that offering that time and space aligned well with James' goal of returning home that night was only an added bonus. It had been dark for hours when their horses slowed and the sight of home, which always drew a smile from James, began to poke out through the trees.

As their horses slowed to a stop when they neared the main house, a little blur of white and brown streaked out of the front door - a five year old girl, her dark hair flying about her as she ran towards them barefoot in her nightgown. James' eyes widened at first and he slid quickly from his horse, Groves doing the same from his own, the worry he'd been dutifully beating back throughout the entire day resurfacing with alarming speed. Until he saw that his daughter was smiling, and not rushing to seek his aid.

When she reached him, hardly slowing from her sprint, he caught her and lifted her up, trying and failing to bring any sternness to his face as she grinned at him.

"It is late - you should be abed," he said.

"I was! Mammy read me a story hours ago. But I stayed awake and then I heard the horses."

"Where is your mother?"

"She fell asleep in the sitting room. I snuck out."

She said it so proudly that James struggled to keep amusement from mingling with the disapproval on his face.

"You should not have."

"I heard the horses!" she repeated again in protest.

"I've scarcely been gone a day," he pointed out, but relented when her lower lip threatened to wobble "How did you spend it?"

"We went fishing!"

"You did?"

"We did! And we saved some for you from dinner. Who's this?"

"This is Mr Groves. He's an old friend of your mother's and I."

"And what's your name?" Groves stepped forward, extending a hand for her to shake.

"Antonia Norrington," she shook his hand "It's nice to meet you."

James suppressed a smile at the bemusement in Groves' eyes, as it was clear he'd expected her to shy away and refuse to speak.

"Come, you must go inside," he allowed her to slide from his arms towards the ground "Wash your feet, and then wake your mother while we see to the horses. And then bed."

"But-"

"Bed, Antonia. I will see you in the morning."

Seeing that he was in no mood to be argued with, she pressed her lips together and strode away on muddy feet.

"She's all Theodora," James said to Groves, the words all the explanation that might be needed.

"There's much of you in her, too," Groves replied.

"In her colouring, perhaps, but I would have eaten my boots before I tested the boundaries of the rules set before me by my father."

Although, in truth, power by fear was not something he wished to establish over his own children. Perhaps when they were teenagers, unruly and willful, he'd find it in him to be sterner.

"How many do you have?"

"Theodora carries our second presently," he said.

Groves appeared surprised at that, and he knew why - many couples in their position would be on their third or even fourth by now, but he continued.

"She may be tired when you see her, it does not come easily to her."

"Motherhood?"

"Her condition," James corrected grimly and Groves flushed at his misunderstanding "You remember the injury she sustained? It is not without its complications. But she will be pleased to see you, even if she needs to retire swiftly."

But if she'd taken Antonia fishing at the nearest lake today, it was a good omen.

"What did she mean, she read her a story?" He enquired.

"An, erm, Irish tradition. To tell a child tales before bed - myth, folklore, fairy stories, that sort of thing. They're hard to come by here, but she recorded the ones she remembered most when she still carried our first, and they make a routine of reading them still now. We named her Antonia Lauren - after our fathers, Antony and Lawrence."

In part because the first pregnancy was so difficult at times that when they finally met their daughter, deciding to wait for a boy to name thusly seemed to be tempting fate. Indeed, it proved a disguised blessing that it took such efforts for Theodora to fall pregnant to begin with when they discovered what a toll it seemed to take on her. He did not think he could bear to witness it if it was her permanent state of being, however great their reward at the other end.

"Might I offer forth Theodore if the next is a boy?" Groves teased.

"People would only think he was named for his mother," James pointed out.

"But I would know the truth, that would be quite enough for me."

"I'm not sure how I feel about you naming my baby before you've even said hello to me, you cheeky git," Theodora's voice sounded from the entrance to their little stable.

Both of them turned to look at her, finding her standing there in her nightdress, dressing gown, and heavy black boots, her hair trying to escape from its plait and a round bump poking out from the confines of the robe.

"And anyway," she added, greeting Groves with a grin as he approached her "We've already settled on Jack for a boy."

"We have not," James replied emphatically.

"You said you liked it better than Cutler."

"In the same way I'd rather lose an arm than a leg."

Groves chuckled, holding Theodora at arm's length before he offered a loose hug that had to be given at an awkward angle thanks to her condition "You haven't changed, you know."

"We're going to have a very serious discussion about my waistline's usual glory."

"I was referring to your face."

"Oh, well in that case thank you. It's good to see you - I was certain I'd misunderstood Antonia when she said who was with James. I'm guessing you're staying with us?"

"I can get a room in town if it's too much trouble."

"Don't you dare. Our maid's gone to bed for the night, but I'll go and get our guest room ready-"

"No, you will not," James cut in - and Groves appeared relieved that he'd saved him the trouble.

"I'm not waking her up so she can make a bed," she protested.

"Of course not - I'm quite capable of doing it myself," James said.

"Or I could do it," Groves offered "Or, again, go to town."

"You're not escaping me that easily - and you're our guest. We're not going to cast you out into the night."

"Have you forgotten I was a soldier?" Groves asked "I'm sure I could survive."

"In this room only one of us has been choked by Davy Jones - think that makes me the winner, lad."

"Of a contest nobody wishes to be part of," James added.

"Eh, a win's a win."

James smiled despite himself, shaking his head as he continued to brush down the horse. Over Groves' shoulder, Theodora caught his eye and winked with a cheeky grin of her own.

"It is cold - you should go inside. I'm almost finished, I'll see to it that the stables are locked up correctly."

Groves, it appeared, was still accustomed to heeding his instructions without question, but it spoke to exactly how weary Theodora was when she nodded and did not argue, instead telling Groves that she would show him inside. James waited until their footsteps retreated before he let his worry show.

"So, correct me if I misunderstood, but you said you were a soldier. Not anymore?" Theo asked Groves as they walked into the house.

He was distracted - at first with making sure that she wasn't about to spontaneously heave backwards and go tumbling down the stone steps that led up to the front door (fair, considering the worry James had no doubt imbued him with), and then by staring about their entrance hall with a small smile on his face.

Few things had ever brought Theo as much joy as this sprawling country home of theirs nestled in the mountains, half-built by their own two hands, to their own liking. If it was to be their reward after all they'd been through, it was a hell of a reward.

"When you said I should address my letters here to a cottage, this wasn't quite what I pictured," he remarked.

"Why didn't you just come here rather than to the offices? I'm guessing that's where you found James."

"I didn't like to intrude - showing up on your doorstep after so long seemed…presumptuous."

"Oh please, intrude and presume, you're always welcome here. It's good to see you!"

"And you, although it still feels strange not to refer to your husband as sir."

"Yeah, well, after our third anniversary he magnanimously permitted me to be on a first name basis with him, so I've just gotten used to it myself."

Groves snorted, shaking his head as she led him into the sitting room, still in her fetching dressing gown and Docs combo. Taking up the blanket she'd previously fallen asleep under, she wrapped it around herself and gestured for Groves to sit.

"I'd offer you a drink, but I'm afraid the bar cart is in the cellar for now."

"The cellar?"

"Mm. The smell knocked me sick, and then the sight made me think of the smell. A casualty of war. I've gotten over it now, but we've yet to drag it back up because we keep forgetting..." and also because when she got sick, she got so sick that she ended up badly dehydrated, which prompted her husband to - understandably - be very cautious when it came to reintroducing prior triggers "...so you'll have to wait for sir to return for that."

"I shall find a way to survive."

"Good, saves us burying you. You still haven't answered my question."

"What question?"

"You're not a soldier anymore."

"Ah," he made a face, shifting on the sofa with a grimace "Yes. Apparently not."

"It wasn't…your choice?"

"When Admiral Norrington left, I rose up in the ranks and did rather well for myself. Unfortunately, there was a nasty skirmish last year and I took a shot to the leg," he straightened his right leg out before it, shifting and flexing the muscle with a grimace "I was deemed unfit to continue."

"What? Are you alright? You- I thought you were walking fine, I didn't notice a thing."

"I've mastered the art of disguising my gait," he said "It's not too bad, but they believe there's still shrapnel inside. I get flare ups, and the powers that be concluded it makes me unfit for duty."

"You're joking."

"Sadly not. They did give me a fine enough pension, there's no mark against my name, but I cannot remain idle. What else am I to do? Take up a trade?"

"You want a role in the company?" Her eyes lit up.

"I wish to work for you - wherever I may be useful. You've achieved great things here. Not only here, but across the seas. I would be honoured to lend a hand to that."

"Oh you have yourself a deal. Take three ships."

"You should discuss it with your husband first," Groves said drily.

"Is that why you're doing this? You're that averse to using his first name, and if he employs you, you can call him sir again?"

"You've caught my cunning ploy - to avoid social faux pas. And I may be fairly confident in my abilities where sailing is concerned, but I doubt I could man three ships at once."

"Then you're not the man I remember," she sniffed.

"It did not take long for the reunion to sour, I see," James commented, stepping into the room.

"I had hoped to be here for at least an hour before I proved a disappointment," Groves replied mildly.

Her husband had clearly ventured into the cellar, for he brought with him a bottle of brandy, two glasses, and - to Theo's delight - a tea cup filled with fruit juice for her. Non-alcoholic drinks that spanned beyond coffee, milk, and tea were not yet particularly common, but she'd arrived just in time for cases of scurvy to be linked to a lack of citrus fruit, and so James' history on the high seas, as well as their company, meant not only did she not have to explain the phenomenon of drinking fruit juice to him, but that they had regular access to it. It was a godsend.

The concept of not drinking alcohol during pregnancy had been fairly newer to him, but he'd seen the logic in it pretty quickly.

"Theodore can't man three ships at once," Theo explained.

"Then my decision to name him Captain of at least one of our ships may have to be reconsidered," he said as he handed her the cup, and then began to pour the brandy for himself and Groves.

"What?" Groves blinked "I hadn't even asked…How did you…?"

"You sought us out at our place of business," James pointed out "Suggesting it was indeed business that you wished to discuss. The navy seldom grants leave for the amount of time it would take you to sail here and back to the Caribbean, and I cannot think why else you would come all this way in person."

"I would never ask for a captaincy outright," Groves said immediately "It wouldn't be fair - it's one step away from nepotism."

"Hardly," James scoffed "Your qualifications are there. You rose to Commodore after we left, what am I to do? Make you an ordinary seaman? That would not be fair. A position just became available, as we had to rid ourselves of an individual who abused his authority for his own gain. You have come at the perfect time, his former role is now yours and we can discuss it more tomorrow."

Groves gawked for a few moments, and then breathed a laugh, shaking his head before finally nodding.

"I…yes, sir."

"We've not yet drawn up the employment contract," James pointed out in response to the formality.

"Old habits, I think," Theo said with a tired smile.

That tiredness must have shone through more than she intended, too, for Groves' brow furrowed.

"I have kept you up - you were sleeping before I arrived."

"I was trying to wait up to see if this one got home safe," she shook her head before she nodded in James' direction.

If he hadn't been back by tomorrow night, her venturing out into the wild to go looking wasn't entirely beyond the realms of possibility. From the half-amused, half-exasperated look on James' face, he was well aware of that fact.

"The guest bed hasn't been made up yet," she pointed out as he helped her stand.

"I'm rather adept at falling into beds," Groves said, and then spluttered and winced at the amused grin that prodded out of her "God, that sounded terrible. What I meant is that I can sleep where I land. Just point me in the direction of the room and I shall be fine."

That much Theo could happily do - and she made a mental note to give him a nice little starter bonus so he wouldn't hold her poor hosting skills against her. But also mostly because she was happy to have him back. Judging by James' face, he was too - or he at least knew he could count on Groves for competence.

As James closed the door to their bedroom behind him, Theo walked to the hearth and threw a few more logs into the fire, then used the mantle to keep herself steady as she stepped out of her boots and kicked them aside. She couldn't reach them to lace them up to begin with, a fairly new stage in this pregnancy, so getting them off was fairly simple. When she'd shrugged off her dressing gown and slung it over the chair, she turned to her husband to find he'd already stripped off in record time and was in the bed already, watching her with a smile on his face that was so soft she found she couldn't tease him for it.

"What?" she asked, pretending not to marvel at the fact that after so long she could still bloody well blush under those looks of his.

"I don't think I shall ever come to terms with just how beautiful you are. Do you realise that?"

The soft smile gained a hint of amusement to it when she felt her face go crimson as she sputtered and then laughed, shaking her head.

"Coming from the world's most handsome man, that's quite the compliment."

"Hardly," he scoffed.

"Oh, you are. Do I have to start listing all of your best qualities again? It's quite a bit of fun, I could do it in my sleep."

As she asked, she lowered herself down onto the chair by her vanity and began the arduous task of unravelling her plait and brushing her hair.

"With your ability to find marvels in the mundane, we'll be here all night if you go down that route."

"Oh please, I was hated in Port Royal for snatching you up for a reason. Well, it's infuriating. Or at least it was - way back when, before I was free to act on my terrible lecherous thoughts. Do you know when I first started fancying you, I tried to look at you as little as possible?"

"You did not."

His disbelief was tinged with amusement as he watched her in the mirror, his eyebrows creeping upwards as he smirked at her.

"I did! I thought maybe if I didn't look at you, it'd all fade away."

"I'm guessing it did not work, given where we are now."

Theo wondered if the prominent bump she was sporting (for the second time, no less) was a bit of a giveaway as far as that was concerned. Or maybe it was the whole 'taking a knife to the gut' thing. Gestures like that didn't tend to be motivated by disinterest. Not often, anyway.

"No it didn't, because you had to go and have that bloody voice, and if I started blocking my ears and singing whenever you were around, you'd have really thought I was losing my mind. Still, I'm surprised you didn't notice."

"Perhaps because I was attempting to undertake the same strategy."

"Attempting?"

"Briefly. Unsuccessfully. You are very beautiful."

She couldn't help but smile in response to that - and then it widened when her smile drew one of those hopelessly soft, loving smiles from him. A truly vicious cycle.

"And you're a shameless flatterer," she said, beginning to re-plait her hair to keep it out of her way.

"I, my darling wife, am making up for all of that horrible time when I was doomed to pretend that I was not aware of your striking looks."

"No mention of my dazzling personality, I see."

"That took longer - it's an acquired taste."

Theo breathed a laugh, shaking her head as she tied the emerald green ribbon at the end of her hair.

"Arse."

"A handsome arse, though, or so I hear."

"It's one of your best features."

"Theodora."

After so long together, he was losing his ability to play at being scandalised by the things she said.

"What? I'm making up for all of that horrible time when I was doomed to pretend I wasn't aware of your fantastic backside."

"You're terrible."

"You love me."

"Deeply."

"Well, it's mutual."

"That's a relief, I must say."

His eyes were fixed on her as she finished fiddling with her hair and then stood, crossing the room towards him.

"Speaking of that deep, all-consuming love, I'm worried you may have overdone it today," James said, extending an arm to help her slowly lower herself into the great vast but cosy bed in the middle of the room, loaded with quilts and blankets beyond counting.

"If I had to keep staring at the walls, I was going to go mad."

"You could have sat in the garden, then," he said drily.

Theo rolled her eyes fondly, settling down with a quiet sigh before she spoke again - this time hesitantly.

"I don't know how many more of these I have in me, James. I want more - this one, obviously, and one more after at least, but the fact for all we know there'll be five or six more or however many before I end up too old…"

The best guess they had as to her difficulties, and it was best guesses that they had to rely on given the state of medicine now, was scar tissue left by the old stab wound. It made it all very hit and miss regarding whether her body decided to cooperate with pregnancy - becoming pregnant wasn't something that happened quickly, although the process of trying was fun enough to stem complaints, but even the ones that did take were often uncomfortable at best, as this experience and the one with their daughter was telling her.

Before this one, she could always kid herself that perhaps her first was just a difficult one. Now, though, it was looking like all of them would be.

When added to the horror that childbirth could be in these times (something that had threatened to overwhelm her with dread during her first), it didn't make for a great time. The relief that washed over her the moment it was done and the baby was sleeping in her arms made it worth it…but it took a long nine months to get to that.

"When I remember my outrage regarding that device in your arm upon first learning of it, I feel like a fool," he muttered ruefully.

Theo smiled "I can't believe I've made a modern man of you."

"Am I really so curmudgeonly and old fashioned?"

As he asked, he raised a hand to scratch at the stray streaks of grey just barely beginning to creep into the short beard he kept neatly trimmed close to his face. It was a new addition, appearing only this last year - prompting Theo to joke and ask if her pregnancies were as hard on him as they were on her. At the first sign of self-consciousness that flickered across his face thanks to it, though, she'd made it her mission to kiss every errant streak of grey she could find - hair by individual hair, if she had to - and show him exactly how attractive she found it. She only stopped when he finally said that believed her when she said she loved it, although she suspected he held off voicing that belief just to draw out the ministrations. Not that she was complaining.

"Not at all," she said "In fact, you're modern as all hell for this time. Part of why I love you. You tolerate my own modernity much better than any other man here could. Acquired taste or no."

"Tolerate isn't the word I'd use."

"I didn't want to push my luck by accusing you of enjoying it - considering everything in the beginning."

"It was all more than worth it."

"I would have to agree."

"There are…ways. Surely," he said "To prevent another conception? Not every couple out there can boast twenty children. I cannot pretend to know of the remedies that women whisper amongst one another, but I do know that those remedies exist…"

"Half of those remedies are poison in very low doses aimed at finishing off a pregnancy before they can finish off the mother. The other half are ineffective superstition, dreamt up by people who think that if you boil a gallon of water down to a shot glass, you'll get a shot of super strength, highly concentrated water."

There were other remedies - ones she might consider, things like finessing a barrier out of sponge, inserting it before sex and fishing it out afterwards, but it hardly seemed sanitary.

"Pulling out?" He suggested.

It amused her that even here, in their bedroom, he made the suggestion with a cough and a blush - apparently deeming it very dirty indeed.

"That's a great way to get pregnant. Although the chances are reduced a bit if we time things right."

"There's always abstinence."

"Nah, I don't think there is."

"I shall take that as a glowing review of my performance."

"It's the phrases like performance review that really keep the spark alive," she said drily, and he snorted.

"It's hardly my first choice, either, but if it's for the sake of your health…"

"I'll be fine," she sighed, smoothing a hand over her bump "It's really bad on the good days. It's just the bad ones that are no fun."

Their first hint that maybe the old injury would present a problem was in her periods. Those had been painful as all fuck. At first she'd waved it off as her body getting used to having them again, but when it continued each month, it did present a worry.

Truth be told, though, there was a part of it that was a bit of a blessing in disguise. The prospect of falling pregnant easily was a far scarier one in this time than the reverse. She was constantly, painfully aware - especially while expecting - of the fact that she lived in a time where complications could, and often did, mean death. Her ability to get through her first without any hiccups had bolstered her courage, but the worry was still there - and James shared it, however much he hid that fact. It was just difficult to remember that silver lining when she was wracked with pain and cold sweats that had her panicking for the safety of the unborn babe.

But they'd yet to face any real disasters. Just discomfort. And discomfort she could do. For now.

"I have a feeling this one's a boy," she steered the conversation back to lighter matters.

"Oh? Are your supernatural powers returning?"

His teasing was dampened by how thrilled he seemed by that prospect. One of each was certainly a tempting notion.

"Intuition. It feels different from last time. But on that note - I've been thinking. I don't know the legality of it all, but I don't want Antonia pushed out if it is a boy."

"Of course not - I could never push her out."

"No, I mean…with Norne, with whatever inheritance they might have lined up before them, whatever. I'm not going down the route of 'sorry, you don't get a thing because you're a girl and them's the breaks - go find a nice lad and be quiet'."

"I'm not sure it would be wise for her to be sole heir to it, though," he said "Not least because in the end it would leave everything in the hands of whomever she happens to marry. If he would be the unscrupulous sort…"

"As if we'd ever let that happen."

"If she's anything like her mother, we mightn't have much say in the matter."

"Blaming me? Coming from the famously quiet and demure James Norrington?"

"Ah, but I'm permitted to be difficult - I'm a man."

He couldn't even manage to keep the grin from his face in response to the withering look that earned him, and she knew her influence was far too strong now that he was beginning to take delight in being a wind up merchant.

"I won't pretend not to understand your cause, even if it goes against the thinking I am used to," he said slowly - and oh so diplomatically - becoming serious once again "But I also cannot pretend, modern as I aim to be, that it would not set her down a difficult path. One in which she fears marrying, lest she lose what she has."

"I wasn't going to suggest just giving her everything, either. It doesn't have to be completely one thing or the other."

A few beats of silence went by, and then he replied.

"You wish to split it all equally between them."

"It's fairest. They all get an equal share - if one is more enthusiastic about it than the others, then they get to take the running of the thing on. If they're all interested, they work together. It's not…foisted on one or another before they can even speak, before they even have a say."

"It's a neat solution on the surface, I'll concede that, but it could stir discontent. Just because it would not go to one over the other by coincidence of birth does not mean it could not lead to ill feeling or disagreement. Situations like these so often do."

Theo nodded, but wasn't too fazed by what he pointed out.

"We'll raise them better than that. You know we will. To work together to figure out a solution that everybody's happy with. They'll be a team. We'll be a team. All of us. They won't value money or- or good sodding business above each other."

"Is it that simple? I'm not sure anybody ever intends to raise the types who turn this sort of situation into a disaster," he mused.

"But the people who manage it are far inferior to us."

"That is very true. And I can see the virtue in not allowing the handling of it all to be left up to chance - or fate. No matter how kind it's been to us, from where we sit now at least. It's something to consider. But not now."

"Not now," she agreed "Our daughter is already very protective over her future sibling, you know. I think if she was going to get jealous, it would be now, while she's little - it doesn't seem like the sort of thing that just springs up in adulthood from nowhere."

"She is?"

"Mm, she wanted to take a sword fishing with us so she could protect me and the baby from piranhas."

"Piranhas?" He chuckled "When were they introduced to the Lake District?"

"It's the thought that counts. We'll work on the geography at a later date."

"Zoology, surely? Or marine biology?"

"We should probably puzzle that out before we try to teach her it."

"That may be wise. Hattie is married now, you know."

"She is? I was so surprised to see Groves that I didn't even think to ask…she didn't mention it in her last letter."

"A recent development - just before he left. A blacksmith. It appears to be an endemic in Port Royal. Many a young hopeful man must be rushing to the profession."

"I never saw the appeal."

"Indeed, thank God."

"Although if you do want to start swinging a hammer around shirtless in the cellar, I wouldn't complain."

"Would you settle for watching me try to manoeuvre the bar cart up the steps in the morning? I may become boastful and vow to do it without breaking a single decanter."

"Most men would move the bottles separately."

"I am not most men. I am capable of far greater feats."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that. Fine, it'll do for now. But if I'm to go through this a third time, you better set about constructing a forge to keep me happy."

"Most women settle for flowers. Jewellery, perhaps."

"I am not most women."

James grinned at her "Indeed, you are not."

It was a smile she returned until she was sure her face would crack, nestling closer to him as they settled down, his left hand smoothing down her back out of habit, gently rubbing some of the ache out of the lower half as it settled there. Sighing her contentment, she pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw, her hand finding his free one, her fingers threading through his.

"Have I told you how much I absolutely, completely, devastatingly adore you recently?" She asked quietly.

In moments like this, she was so content that it often threatened to bowl her over - knocking the air from her lungs and leaving her struck by her inability to comprehend that it was even real. That it was possible to be this happy. That they'd actually gotten here, after how things had started.

"Oh, not for…hm, hours, I think. At least not since I departed at dawn. Perhaps even a full day," he teased lowly.

She knew it wasn't just her, either. She saw her own feelings reflected back at her whenever she looked at him in these moments - in those soft, adoring smiles, or in how the sternness or the exasperation that he often wore so well (and still handsomely, damn him) drained away, like he trusted her to see the warmth. The lightness. The levity. Him. That in itself was an honour, but all of this? This life they had? This was a blessing. Through and through.

"That's horribly inattentive of me, I do apologise," she snorted.

"I'd forgive you anything, you know that," he was teasing her back, but there was still a sincerity to it which only added to the butterflies he still managed to instil in her, the better part of a decade down the line.

"I love you," she said, despite knowing the fact that there was no need to say it, teasing aside "More and more every day. More than I ever thought was possible. More than I ever thought I could without it terrifying me."

"I would never dare doubt it," he said, pressing a kiss to the hand that held his, and then shifting so he could press another to her lips, slow and filled with all of the adoration that threatened to send her dizzy every day "And I love you, too."

There was also little need to voice it on his end - they said their words, vows never to doubt, out of a sense of tradition now, honouring a time when things weren't so easy. As if they could ever forget that time - and as if forgetting it would allow them to grow complacent with what they now had. All that they'd fought for, and all that they'd almost lost so many times. But complacency never did come naturally to either of them, and likely never would.

And still, she adored hearing him say it all the same.

A/N: I dead ass put Theo and James' genetics into one of those "what will our children look like" calculators so I could get an idea of how likely it would be for their kids to inherit their hair and eye colour. It ended up being 50/50 across the board, so I then flipped a coin to decide said hair and eye colours so it really would be random. The downside of this is that, thanks to that calculator, my targeted ads now think I'm pregnant.

Also - one last historical nugget for old time's sake - the thing about people boiling down water thinking they can get a gallon's worth of water in one sip is true. Or at least it was around a hundred years after this story.

Finally, I wrote the chapter after this one before I wrote this one, because this one features far more Theo and James directly than the next one does, and I wanted the last chapter I wrote to be more fully about them, right down to saving the final scene here for last - because I don't tend to write chapters completely chronologically anyway. So, as of this chapter, I've now finished writing this story. I'll post the next, final chapter sometime over the course of the next week. Prepare yourselves. Again, saving the emotions for the next one, but man. There were tears.

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