Chapter Twenty-Six;

Absence

"Absence, hear thou my protestation

Against thy strength,

Distance and length;

Do what thou canst for alteration,

For hearts of truest mettle

Absence doth join and Time doth settle."

John Donne, That Time and Absence proves Rather helps than hurts to loves

Connor had been working tirelessly to recover the ground he had lost over the past few months. It seemed not a moment went by that he was not working toward the end of Charles Lee. When he was not holed up in the basement going over letters, maps, and other correspondence, he was doing what he could to care for Achilles. Though he had recovered from his last illness, the hope he would do so again faded with each passing day. Sometimes Connor almost felt guilty for spending so much time focused on Lee and other Assassin duties, or for how often he was absent traveling between the Homestead and Boston. Even so, every time Achilles woke from his deep, feverish slumber, he spent what few words he had berating Connor. His most common complaint was that he was wasting his time sitting by the bed when he could be doing something useful. It seemed even in illness, the old man never changed.

Stephane's letters had become more intriguing. There was an abundance of rumors about the location of Charles Lee, which also concerned the activities he had been engaging in since he had lost favor with Washington. It seemed that without the possibility of political power, he had been spending all his time attempting to maintain and even build his power within the Templar Order. Stephane thought the rumors promising, even suggesting that Connor come and investigate himself. Though hesitant to leave Achilles, Connor eventually agreed after much urging from the old man. As always, he spent every moment he was awake insisting that Connor not waste precious time sitting idly at his bedside. Still, it felt wrong to leave him in such a bad state, though he knew he would be in good hands with Diana and Lyle.

When Diana came to check on Achilles, Connor went out to hunt, anxious for a break from his letters and maps. Cora had always gotten meat from the butcher who had recently made a home in Davenport, and it had been a long time since Connor had found the need to hunt for his own food. It seemed that the Homestead was growing more and more with each passing year. He still remembered well when there had hardly been more than the old manor atop the hill – now there was a thriving community. The lives all the residents had built for themselves, the way they had helped each other and cared for one another... It made him proud, even given him some sense of belonging.

Perhaps due to lack of practice or just poor luck, Connor had little to show for his hunt, though he was not too disappointed. It had been nice to get out and clear his mind, to put his focus on another task. As he headed back to the manor, he spotted Norris and Myriam on their way to the hunting blinds. Since Cora had left, Connor had stayed away from most social interaction with the hopes of evading discussion of her, but he knew it could not last forever. As if on cue, Norris spotted him, raising his hand in a wave.

"How are you," he inquired once they had come closer. "It has been a while," he said, smiling as he always did. Though Norris did not seem to be acting any different, Connor could feel Myriam's discomfort.

"I am well. I have been kept busy with Assassin business," he said, trying to keep his gaze on Norris despite the heaviness of Myriam's eyes upon him. She regarded him with her lips in a taut line, as if she was trying to keep silent. "I will be going to Boston soon," he added, trying to keep the conversation going if only to prevent Myriam from revealing whatever was the cause of her scowl. Norris seemed to understand the implication of his comment about Boston, his smile turning to a serious expression. He extended his arm, and once Connor shook his hand Norris raised his other hand to his shoulder.

"I wish you luck, my friend," he said. Connor nodded in thanks, but just as Norris' hand fell away, the man continued. "Perhaps you will not appreciate my saying this, but as your friend... I believe she will return, Connor. I am sure of it."

Before Connor even had a chance to react, Myriam scoffed loudly, crossing her arms. Norris glared at her for a moment before turning his attention back to Connor, no doubt with the intention to apologize for her behavior. Before he could say anything, though, Connor excused himself and turned back in the direction of the manor. He knew Myriam had always disliked Cora, but he was in no mood to listen to her complaints, and was no longer in the position to give Cora any defense. Ignoring Norris' calls, he continued on, suddenly feeling the weight of his solitude.

The rest of the night was spent in silence, as Diana had evidently already left by the time he returned. After having something to eat and checking on Achilles once more, he decided to retire early. There had been too many nights spent in the basement, pouring all his time and energy into the search for Charles Lee – at least, what little he could do without leaving the Manor. At least now, with Achilles' approval and a few leads to follow, he could leave the Homestead and truly begin to forget about all that had happened.

Yet even if he could escape the place where he had made so many memories with her, even if time began to numb the sting of her choice and purpose helped him forget it, his dreams were never so merciful. Almost nightly there would be something of her – a look, a word, even an embrace, and this night was no different. He dreamt that she was with him, slipping under the blanket as she always had if she came to bed after he fell asleep. His arms settled around her, his lips finding the side of her neck as she relaxed. Something smelled faintly of the mint leaves she so often found use for. A gunshot interrupted their embrace, and though Connor could not see the assailant he could feel Cora's blood upon his hands. Quickly, he turned her onto her back, searching for the wound but unable to find the source of the bleeding. Despite all his efforts, she turned pale and lifeless in his arms, eyes unseeing in the moonlight.

Connor woke breathing heavily and covered in sweat, stumbling out of bed and toward the dresser that held a small basin. As he splashed his face with water, trying to push the nightmare away, he could not shake all the faces running through his head – his mother, his father, Achilles, Kanen'tó:kon, Oiá:ner, Cora, his people... All those he had failed. All those he had lost.

Though she had at first relished the daily tasks that kept her busy, they soon turned into drudging chores that led only to daydreaming. If there was one thing Cora had learned in the past few weeks, it was that daydreams were her worst enemy, for without fail she always found herself thinking of Connor. It seemed that everyone around her went about their lives with contentment and happiness, but for Cora each passing day only weighed heavier upon her shoulders. Though she had spent so long wanting a simple life such as this, free from having to look over her shoulder for the next threat, it seemed so much emptier than she had imagined.

If anyone else noticed her lonesome despair, they did not speak of it. Only Felicity seemed to show the slightest bit of acknowledgment. Sometimes Cora caught the woman watching her with a concerned look, but she never addressed the topic out loud. Perhaps it was because they were still getting to know each other, or maybe she had the insight to know that Cora would be reluctant to speak openly about it anyway. Thus day by day, Cora faded more deeply into the background, her presence providing a source of happiness for the others. It was one thing to understand that Aoife may not quite have been apt at picking up on her subtle unhappiness which she was a master at hiding. Riordan's silence, however, was much more hurtful. Was he so blinded by his own happiness that he could not see that she wilted with each passing day?

Between his insistence that she forget Connor and all that had happened to her, his belief that she could so easily put away her past, and his carelessness toward, or perhaps ignorance of her feelings, she found her resentment towards him growing. Soon she found herself resentful of almost everything and everyone, even when she knew in her heart that she was being unfair. Restlessness blossomed, too. Part of her was nervous that Oliver would find her, and she wondered if perhaps she had stayed in one place for too long. Another thing was her loss of purpose. What had she to aim towards now? In theory, she had everything she had ever longed for, yet still she felt so unfulfilled.

It took a while to build the courage to breech the subject with her brother, but Cora knew she had to leave, even if temporarily, whether to search for their remaining family or to hunt down Oliver and be free of his lingering gaze.

"We should talk," she said quietly one night after her brother had come downstairs after tucking his son into bed.

"Anything, sis," he said happily, oblivious of his sister's growing despair.

"I feel as though I have been here too long, especially while Oliver is still out there... I think perhaps it is time that I begin my search for him."

"Are you mad?" he asked, smiling as if it were some joke to him. Though she had expected Riordan to protest, she had not quite thought he would react like this. He had been so understanding, but now it was as if he again wanted to keep her in a neat little box filled with all his preconceptions of who she should be. Though her face grew hot with anger and stubbornness, she kept quiet. "Winter is coming, and it could be months before you find any trace of him. I do not think it is a good idea."

"That is not for you to decide."

"Cora, this decision is for your own protection," he said, his tone similar to the one he used when speaking to his son. When he raised his hand to her shoulder, she swatted it away.

"I am not a child," she said sharply. "I do not need your protection, your permission, or even your approval."

Brows furrowed, he looked at her as if he really was surprised by her reaction. "What has gotten into you?"

"Me? You are the one who is treating me like your child! Are you truly that blinded by your perfect little life? Have you already forgotten who I am?"

Cora could see the anger building in her brother's eyes, but to her surprise he kept it contained. "I have been thinking we should search for Aunt Nuala soon," he said, redirecting the conversation. "Winter is coming, after all. Is this agreeable to you?"

"Fine," she said harshly, folding her arms across her chest. "But I'll have you know, I will not be treated like a child in this household. I have already cast off the chains of one controlling man. I will not willingly allow another's to be fastened about my wrists."

Riordan narrowed his eyes, scoffing as she walked away. The motivations behind his sister's antics were beyond his reasoning. What was there for her to be upset about? Here she was, reunited with her family, living the life that had been robbed of her, and yet she still was not content?

As soon as Cora had slammed the door, Felicity entered the room once more, a weary expression on her face. "What was all that?"

"Just my dramatic, stubborn sister," he said bitterly, sighing as he slumped against the wall.

"I heard your argument," Felicity said, keeping her distance as if she was not quite prepared to comfort him. "I do not think she is being unreasonable."

"Are you serious?"

"Riordan, listen," she said gently, her hand resting upon his forearm. "She has lost everything she built for herself, and-"

"But she has gained all she ever wished for! She told me herself she had spent her years longing for home!"

Sighing, Felicity stepped away from him, leaning against the table. "I know you want things to be well, and I do not doubt that you wish for her happiness, but... Have you not noticed that what happiness she has shown has been rather contrived?" Felicity watched his brow furrow as if he had truly not considered such a thing before. God be merciful, her husband surely could be unobservant. Cora's unhappiness was more than evident to anyone who took time to pay even the slightest bit of attention. Sure, she may have taken part in conversation, chores, and family activities, but that alone did not mean she felt at all fulfilled.

"You need to put away your idealistic conception of how she should feel, and instead put your effort into understanding what she is feeling."

"Felicity... You do not understand."

"I understand that she has lost the man she loves," she said softly. "That is enough to bring anyone into a state of despair, not to mention that she probably feels as though she has lost what little control of her life she had managed to gain."

Riordan relaxed, sighing as his wife's words finally broke through. "Perhaps it truly is I that does not understand..."

Stepping forward, Felicity took his hand between hers, dropping a kiss across his knuckles. "All you have to do is try."

Cora and her brother did not speak for days after their argument. All was not lost though, for where her relationship with her brother struggled, her relationship with her sister grew and even flourished. One night, Aoife had even put her in a fit of giggling as they had done as children, spending late nights acting silly. Though they had been so different as girls and often argued, they had always found common ground in the small hours of the morning, and it seemed nothing had changed. Cora listened to Aoife's joyful ramblings about her and Nate, and in time she even found herself beginning to share bits and pieces of her own life.

One day, they and Felicity had been coming back from a trip to the market when it had begun to storm. The three of them had made a run for it, and when they had returned home soaking wet and laughing hysterically, Cora had almost forgotten everything that had kept her so downcast. Yet as they always did, her troubles soon returned, the unhappiness now so furrowed into her heart that nothing seemed to be able to remove it. Even worse, along with it came restlessness and the constant fear that she would be found. It was that worry that finally drove her to speak to her brother.

She caught him early in the morning before he went about his daily work. That night she had hardly slept, anxiety and regret keeping her so mercilessly from sleep.

"Cora?" In the dim light of dawn, he squinted as if it would help to see her better. When he was close enough to be sure it was her, his brow furrowed. "Is something wrong?"

"I need to leave," she said firmly. "Whether to look for Aunt Nuala, or just to get away... I cannot bear to be so idle anymore, and I fear I have been here too long."

He nodded, sighing as if he had known this was coming. "Are you afraid Oliver will find you?"

"I know he will. He will never back down now."

Riordan was quiet for a few moments. "If you feel you must leave, I cannot stop you, but I hope you will choose to finish what we have started and find Maebh and Aunt Nuala."

In truth, that had been her plan all along. There was nowhere else for her to go, and though she could have done fine on her own, some part of her was not prepared to be fully alone. Though she had suffered in longing and loneliness, at least there was someone there. Though she may have wished it otherwise, she knew herself well enough to understand she was not yet ready to leave. "Very well," said said softly.

"And I also hope you will not protest if I accompany you," he said, his tone rather humble.

She was quiet for a few moments, and Riordan began to worry she would say no. Instead, she looked up at him, speaking gently though there was a flash of defiance in her eyes. "I will not. It would be best to leave in the next few days, what with winter coming. Talk it over with your wife and let me know of your decision."

As she turned to go, Riordan called her back. "Cora..." Against her better judgment she stopped, though she did not face him. "Can we not have peace? No matter what has passed between us, I would like for us to forget it and begin again."

Cora knew she would not forget any time soon, but she had little emotionally energy nowadays and did not wish it to be spent in anger and argument, and so she turned her head to the side and nodded before continuing toward the house, leaving Riordan to wonder if he had truly damaged their relationship beyond repair.

A few days later, they were set to depart. Felicity had half reluctantly agreed to let them go, torn between wanting her husband and sister-in-law safe at home and understanding their wish to find their Aunt and sister. At first, Aoife had insisted she come as well, but Cora did not know what possible dangers they could be walking into, and though Aoife had seen her share of war and threat, Cora thought it safer for her to stay home. As Cora and Riordan rode away, she turned back and watched them waving goodbye. It was still hard to think of herself as a permanent resident here. Though she had been there near a month and had settled into everyday life, she still felt a sense of restlessness, as if she was awaiting something or was only passing through.

Though Riordan had asked for peace between them and Cora had granted his request, she still made no effort to try to mend their relationship. After all, he had only desired harmony with her, not true resolution of what had transpired between them. He had not asked for forgiveness, had not even offered an explanation of his words, and so she was no longer inclined to try. No doubt Riordan had given up as well, for he did not speak a word to her as they rode towards the site of their Aunt's old home. Though they knew she would not be there, they hoped speaking with some of her neighbors may give them a clue as to where to begin their search.

It was not a long journey. Her father had often taken the children to visit their Aunt for the day, leaving after breakfast and returning in time for dinner. As they rode on, she found herself lost in memories of him, how he had loved his sister so dearly, how much they all had laughed every time they were together. When she was very young, she had spent the duration of the journey sitting in front of her father. He would often race his horse forward, and she could almost hear her giggles in some little crevice of her mind, her father's laughter booming from behind her.

When they arrived, they saw that the house was now occupied. A little farm, perhaps several years tended, had been planted in its vicinity, and she could see a woman hanging the laundry just where her Aunt had once completed the same task herself. She could almost see the woman turn to greet her, her Aunt's brown eyes shining with happiness, dark curls pulled into a neat bun.

Riordan's voice drew her from the illusion. "Should we talk to them?" He motioned toward the woman Cora had been observing, and now she could see her blonde hair hidden partially beneath a cap.

"No. They are unlikely to know anything," Cora said. "We are better off asking the neighbors that were here at the same time Nuala was."

They spent the better part of the rest of the day doing just that, but came up with nothing substantial to lead them towards her. Some claimed they knew where she had gone, but due to the inconsistencies between each person's story, it was hard to separate fact from rumor. Cora had wanted to follow each possibility, but Riordan was concerned with time and returning to his wife. After arguing over their next step, they finally came to a small agreement to stay the night in a nearby inn and begin again in the morning.

When they entered the inn, a barmaid came to greet them. After wiping her hands on her apron she gave them a sweet smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Have you any vacancies?"

"Certainly," she said, beckoning them behind the bar where the keys must have been kept. "One room or two?"

"One will suffice," Cora said. Nodding, the woman disappeared beneath the counter, returning with a key which she set on the bar in front of them. As Riordan dug around for coin to make payment, the maid engaged Cora in a conversation.

"So what brings you through town," she asked pleasantly.

Though Cora could feel Riordan give her a sharp look, she pressed on. They had already spent the whole day asking every resident of the town they could get their hands on about their Aunt's location. It wasn't as if it was exactly a secret at this point. "We have been looking for our Aunt."

"Oh? Perhaps I know her, what is her name?"

Cora hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Nuala Wescott." At the sound of her name, the maid's face grew white, and Riordan turned toward her, leaning in.

"You know of her," he said, forming the words not so much as a question but instead as a statement of fact.

The maid spoke in a quiet voice. "Aye, I knew her."

"Can you tell us where she is?"

"How am I to know your intentions toward her?"

"We have no ill intent," Cora pleaded, "She was my father's sister, and we have long wished to be reunited." Despite her words, the maid still appeared unsure. "I could tell you what she looks like, I could tell you of her marriage... Anything to make you believe my words."

The woman was silent for a few moments, obviously considering Cora's plea. Something had struck a cord within her, though, and she gave a curt nod, grabbing Cora's arm and pulling her along into a deserted storage room.

"I pray I am not making a mistake," she said quietly, almost to herself. Looking up, she stared long into Cora's eyes. "But you have the look of her, so I believe you are telling the truth."

She could almost feel Riordan light up at the maid's words, and Cora herself let out a breath she had not noticed she was holding. "Will you take us to her?" Riordan asked eagerly.

"I can tell you where I last knew she was headed, but that was years ago... I do not know whether or not she still remains there."

"That is more than enough," Cora said. Even if her aunt was not there, such a promising lead was encouraging. Cora scarcely slept that night, kept awake by all the possible scenarios of what could happen running through her head. Oliver was in the back of her mind, as well. It was only a matter of time until he found her, and she was determined not to lose sight of that. Part of her wanted to abandon this search and try to find him instead, but she knew her responsibilities lied with her aunt and sister, at least for now. By early morning, they were on the road once more. The maid had said it was only a day's ride, and they hoped to arrive by dusk.

"To think they have been only two days' ride this whole time," Riordan commented as they neared the town. Cora nodded, trying not to get her hopes up. Despite Riordan's optimism, it was more than likely that Nuala and Maebh would have moved on – things had never been so simple for her before, and she did not expect that to change now. Cora rested most of her hopes on some information that would lead them to where they really were.

The maid had directed them toward a large manor home where, according to her, Nuala had taken a job as a servant in order to get by and make enough money to start off on her own. It was easy enough to find, as it was a large home upon many acres. From the front, neither of them could see anyone, so they dismounted and headed towards the door. Cora could sense Riordan's excitement, his anticipation for what they might find, but she felt oddly placid, as if she knew deep within her that there would only be yet another lead on an endless trail of promising information.

Riordan was the one to knock, but no answer came. He tried several times before Cora could see the hope begin to drain from his face.

"We should go," she sighed.

Riordan turned and glared at her, as if she had suggested they give up the search all together. "Go where? We did not come all this way for nothing!"

"If you would only hold a moment, you would hear me suggest that we find lodgings for the night and try again tomorrow. Your eagerness will not make them appear more quickly."

Riordan rolled his eyes. "You could try to be a bit more eager yourself."

"I was the one who suggested we go in the first place," Cora said. She was beginning to grow tired of how short his temper was when he was anxious. "Do you really think I would abandon our plans so quickly?" Her brother said nothing, but the look on his face was answer enough.

Her own temper beginning to rise, Cora turned and headed for her horse. "Let's go before I do decide I've had enough of you," she mumbled under her breath.

"Excuse me?" Though Cora had mostly meant the words in jest, Riordan seemed to have taken them seriously. "I am tired of your snide comments," he grumbled, following her towards their horses.

"Says you," she shot back, turning to face him.

No doubt their petty squabble would have turned into a full fledged argument, if not for the child that rounded the corner. The girl seemed to be no older than five, and held an empty bucket in her arms. When she saw Cora and Riordan standing there she appeared startled, glancing over her shoulder in the direction from which she had come, as if to see if anyone else would be coming to her aid. Not wanting the girl to be frightened, Cora smiled warmly.

"Hello there," she said, taking a step forward. "We've been sent to give a message to the master of this house. Do you know when they will be back?" The girl shrugged.

"My name is Cora," she said, trying a different approach. "What's yours?"

"Una," she said, her little voice full of apprehension.

"Is your mother or father around, Una?" Something about that name seemed familiar, but Cora could not quite place it in her memory. Just then, a woman's urgent voice beckoned the girl, and as Una turned in response, Cora looked up to see her aunt staring wide eyed back at her. For a few moments, the three of them stood staring at each other. Unlike the other two such reunions Cora had experienced over the past few months, she was the first to step forward, running toward her aunt. As soon as the two women embraced, Cora felt as though she was a little girl again, safe in the arms of a parent. Though her aunt was no substitute for her parents, she could not deny that sense of protection and care that she had experienced as a child.

Riordan approached from behind, and Nuala embraced him as well before taking a step back, holding both of them at arm's length. "Look at you," she said softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "Both of you the spitting image of your father." She smiled sadly, then placed a finger under Riordan's chin. "But you with your dear mother's eyes." Riordan smiled, placing a hand on Nuala's shoulder. "Oh, how you both have grown." With a sigh, she pulled them both into an embrace once more before finally stepping back, quickly wiping her eyes. The years had treated her aunt well; though there were a few wrinkles by her eyes when she smiled, she seemed even more beautiful than Cora had remembered.

"How did you find me? There is so much I wish to know..."

"There is so much to tell," Riordan said, glancing at his sister.

"I suppose I am getting ahead of myself anyway," Nuala said, placing a hand upon the child who was clutching at her skirts. She bent down, looking the girl in the eyes before glancing back up at her niece and nephew, beaming with joy. "Una, meet your cousins."

Cora smiled, gasping at the news. "You have a child?" Her aunt had always struggled to conceive, and all had assumed she was barren. To know that her dream had been fulfilled... Oh, how she knew her father would have doted upon the girl.

Riordan's demeanor changed as soon as Nuala introduced her daughter, a grim look settling over his face. "Maebh..." he uttered, sure he was going to hear the news he had feared.

Instead, as if on cue, another figure appeared from behind the house, a confused look on her face. She had scarce caught sight of her siblings before barreling towards them, embracing Cora so hard she almost tumbled over. As the girl cried, Cora held her tightly, hardly believing she was the same person she had last seen. Was this how it had been when Aoife and Riordan had first seen her? Now fourteen, Maebh had begun to enter womanhood, and indeed was already as tall as her elder sister.

"I thought... I thought you were dead," she muttered between sobs. "I thought I would never see you again."

"I know," Cora said softly, smoothing her hair. Caught in a whirl of emotion, she held her close and vowed she would not let anything happen to her again.

The journey home was one of laughter and joy. They exchanged stories and memories, both bitter and sweet. Nuala had explained how cruel her husband had become after Cora was taken from them. When she had discovered she was with child, she had taken Maebh and fled, only to discover her husband had become ill and died not long after. Originally, she had intended to go farther from home, but after hearing he would not be able to come after her she settled down, securing a position as a servant in a wealthy household to make a living, and then putting her midwifery skills to use. In time, she had taken the position of the town midwife, the old one having become too old. Cora, too, told her about what she had seen in their time apart, though she did not go into detail about anything. There would be time enough to speak of such things later, after the jubilation of being reunited had ebbed into the rhythm of everyday life.

Upon their return to Riordan's home, another tearful reunion ensued. Finally, what was left of their family had been united, and all seemed to be lost in their joy. Though Cora was indescribably happy to have everyone together, still she found herself struggling to feel as though she truly fit in there. In truth, part of her was certain that she would never truly belong anywhere. Perhaps that was what kept her mood so dreadfully stagnant – it wasn't the loss of Connor or the loneliness, but the fear she would feel like a stranger in her own home for the rest of her life.

Daily routine comforted her. Whether it was the distraction or the feeling of normalcy, she relished the work and the community. After making sure her apprentice had full control of the care of the pregnant women of her former residence, she began to take up work with the midwife who oversaw their township. Though Cora herself didn't quite have the heart for it at first, she often tagged along to assist in whatever small way she could. It was nice to see Nuala so passionate about her work, and the two grew closer every moment they spent together. It was a bit harder with Maebh. She was much more reserved than she once had been, but at least Cora knew how do deal with it. In time, their relationship grew stronger as well.

A few weeks later, paranoia again began to creep into Cora's heart. Some days, she saw Oliver everywhere. Though she wished to go, to end things with him once and for all, she knew actually leaving would be harder than she hoped. Riordan would not approve of her going alone. Despite the fact that she would not hesitate to disregard his overbearing orders to stay, she did not want to leave in conflict – not when they all had just found each other again. When she finally decided to discuss it with him, he asked her to postpone the matter until after dinner, which she begrudgingly agreed to. As it often was, dinner was filled with such life, as she had not experienced since she was a child. Every night they would share the day's events, sharing in the laughter, the gossip, or the anger.

When the laughter died down that night, Felicity rested her hand upon Riordan's, looking up at him so lovingly that Cora felt a sudden pang of loneliness.

"Actually, we have something to share," Riordan said, glancing at his wife. Her lips were in a taut grin, as if she was trying to contain her happiness, and when she looked back at everyone else, her smile finally broke through.

"I am with child," she said softly, a blush lightly touching her cheek. The room erupted in squeals of joy and words of congratulations. Cora stood with the rest of her family, smiling widely as she awaited her turn to embrace them. Aoife and Maebh had practically lept across the table, yelling something about how they had known all along. Aunt Nuala had tears in her eyes, Una was jumping up and down muttering about a baby, and even Nate had grasped Riordan's arm in congratulations. Perhaps most sweet was just watching the two of them steal glances at each other, glowing with love and happiness. Despite the difficulty she and Riordan had been going through, she truly was happy that he had found so much joy.

As she wondered how long Felicity had known and how far along she was, a terrified feeling began to swell in the pit of her stomach, and she sank back into her chair, her eyes fixed on the little vase that sat in the center of the table as she tried to remember the last time she had bled. Between adjusting to life here and searching for Nuala and Maebh, she had lost track of such things. Surely the last time had been before she had left Davenport... Yet now she could not remember quite how long it had been.

Suddenly, all other noise seemed to fade away. As her hand spread over the bodice of her dress, she dared not even think the words. It couldn't be...

"Cora?" Her sister's voice snatched her from her thoughts, and she looked up only to see almost every eye upon her. "Are you alright?" As Aoife stepped toward her, her brow furrowed with concern, Cora stood and nodded, feeling almost detached from her body. After managing a few words to excuse herself, she fled to the sanctuary of her room. As soon as she had closed the door she sank to the floor, trying to will her monthly courses to come upon her. To think she could be with child... She could not even bear the notion.

A knock came softly at the door, and Cora stood, pressing a hand against the wall as if to keep her from falling. "May I come in?" The voice of her aunt was oddly steadying, and though Cora did not know how to face anyone she found herself opening the door to her anyway. As soon as Nuala had shut the door behind her, Cora leaned against the wall, covering her face with her hands.

"You look as though you have seen a ghost," she said gently. "What is the matter?" Sighing, Cora let her hands fall away, averting her eyes as soon as she saw Nuala's worried gaze upon her. How was she supposed to admit her fears? And what if they were true – what if she truly was with child? What would she do then? Turning, she braced herself against the desk in the corner, squeezing her eyes shut.

When the words finally came, they sounded detached. "I cannot remember the last time I have bled."

Nuala's sigh was audible behind her, though it seemed more a sigh of empathy rather than one of judgment or disdain. Letting her head drop, she tried to breathe deeply in order to keep the knots in her stomach from twisting into an anxious nausea. Then, she felt a cool hand across her neck, careful fingers sweeping her hair behind her shoulder. Raising her head, she looked into her aunt's eyes, and though she had no reason to expect her to be harsh, she was still surprised to see the gentle look of compassion in her eyes.

Speaking in a voice of reason, Nuala spared her any words of condemnation. "Do you bleed regularly?" Cora shook her head – the stress of her life had often caused her to be irregular, but she still felt as though it had been longer than normal.

"Then perhaps it is nothing, especially with all that you have been through in the past few months." Nodding, Cora stood up straight. Though she was still unable to shake the fear that gripped her, it helped to hear a logical voice to steady her worry. It wasn't that she did not want to be a mother. On the contrary, motherhood had always been something she had dreamed of, something she had coveted. But to imagine going through it all without Connor, to look upon the face of their child knowing she may well never see him again... It was impossible to imagine.

Nuala's fingers drifted across her back in a comforting, motherly touch. "There is no need to worry just yet. I know it is easier said than done." Taking her hand, she led her to the bed where they both sat down. "What is it that most frightens you?"

Cora was quiet for a few moments, afraid admitting her fear would make her sound so ridiculous. Yet she knew that here of all places, she was safe and listened to, and Nuala had already proven that judgment was not an activity she often engaged in. "I fear being alone." The words seemed so inadequate to describe what she felt. It wasn't solitude itself that she was afraid of, but that she would be without love, without happiness, without the ability to fully trust and be comfortable with someone in every possible way.

"But my dear, you are not alone. We are all here to love and support you." Nudging Cora with her elbow, she gave her the slightest smile. "Even if some of us may not show it in the right way."

Cora smiled in return, but it soon faded as she struggled to find the right words to explain what she really meant. "I know, but..."

Sitting up straight, Nuala looked intently at her niece. "But that is not the company you seek, is it? You long for another..." Cora looked up, her dark eyes telling the other woman everything her lips held back. "You truly love him, the man who would be the father of this child, if there is one."

"Yes," she whispered. "I loved him." Turning her face to the side, she closed her eyes. "And I love him still."

Nuala lay an arm about her niece's shoulders, wishing she could soothe her fears and her longings, but knowing no word would ever suffice. She could almost feel how torn between two worlds Cora was. She herself had known that agony well enough, and would not wish it upon anyone. Still, talking to another was better than dwelling silently in solitude, so Nuala tried to keep Cora occupied, at least for now, though not bothering to make small talk, for she knew her niece would not appreciate attempts at distraction.

"Forgive me for asking, but... Why did you part?"

Sighing, Cora stood straighter, looking her aunt in the eye. "For you to truly understand... It would take some explaining... About what happened after they took me from you."

Nuala nodded, pursing her lips as she recalled Cora being ripped from her arms. "We have not yet spoken of that day," she said softly, her voice detached and her gaze fixed on some far off thing.

"No, we haven't." Cora's voice brought her back to the current moment, and she gave her a reassuring smile.

"If you wish to talk about it, I have all the time in the world to listen to you. If you don't, I accept that. You know I am always here for whatever you need." Cora knew it was true. Her aunt had been the only person who seemed to truly care for what she needed, even if it meant putting aside her expectations or being patient. Yet still she had pushed against her instead of falling into her, and she knew she must stop being so stubborn – at least in this case.

And so she began to speak, telling her story in full yet again. Nuala was a patient and careful listener, and Cora spared no detail. By the time she was finished she had shared even that which she had kept from her brother, from the harsh realities of her time in captivity to the passions of her time with Connor.

"For so long I had a purpose that drove me on," she said when she was finished. "And then, that purpose became confused, and eventually with Connor I found I did not need some grand purpose to sustain me... Life itself, and love, became enough."

Nuala let her words hang in the air a few moments before continuing the conversation. "Why didn't you tell him of what happened with Oliver? Would he not have understood?"

"I am sure he would have, but... I thought I could protect him, that my leaving would distract those who would wish to harm the people I care for in order to get to me, including him. Especially him. And though I still stand by that choice and that reasoning... I have begun to doubt myself."

"Do you not think of going back?" She asked softly.

"All the time," Cora admitted, sighing. "But the way I left... He would never accept me back, and I do not blame him for it." Nuala pulled Cora close, for once unable to find words of comfort. Every possibly path seemed full of hardship. Even so, Nuala had no doubt that Cora would come through whatever path lay before her.

They had been watching her for a month. Though the men were growing anxious, Jeremiah knew the time was not right. Many had tried and failed to capture Cora, and he was determined not to become one of them. All of the others had made the grave mistake of underestimating her. Perhaps it had come from their long time knowledge of her. Jeremiah's own second in command had constantly doubted his methods, insisting taking her down would be of little difficulty especially as outnumbered and isolated as she was. It was true that she had not carried visible weapons upon her person since her arrival in this little township. Yet while the others had taken that as a sign of her comfort and assumed she would be unsuspecting, Jeremiah knew otherwise. He was not oblivious to her resourcefulness, and he knew she was clever and quick-witted. Even without a pistol or a blade, if they gave her a moment to think up a plan, she would. Jeremiah's intent was not to give her such a moment.

Charles, his reckless second in command, seemed to voice his displeasure almost every day. "Why don't you give the order to strike?" He asked as they stood against a building just near the market, where Cora was accompanying her sister-in-law to purchase the week's food. She laughed at something the other woman said, picking up an apple and turning it in her hand as she nodded along to the rest of the woman's story. "You can see she's vulnerable enough... She is at ease in her own home, she is unarmed. There is no need to wait." Her sister-in-law, who's name Jeremiah had learned was Felicity, completed the transaction, and Cora turned, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned upon the stand, a blank look on her face.

"My skill is observation, Charles. All the others who took the path you suggest have failed." Just then, Cora fiddled with her braid, taking a subconscious survey of her surroundings. "See that?"

"What?"

"She is not as unaware as you wish to believe. We must wait until she expects nothing."

"Waiting until she is completely at ease could take weeks, months even," Charles complained. "And what if she never lets her guard down? If I was her, I would not."

"All people fall into comfort eventually," he said, watching as a younger girl came around the corner, nudging her way between Cora and Felicity. Laughing, Cora gave her a light shove with her hip before tenderly tucking a loose strand of hair back into the girl's bun. Smiling, Jeremiah glanced at his companion. "If you truly wish to speed things up, all we must do is exploit her weakness."

A/N: I can't believe how long it's been... Life just got in the way, I suppose. This semester killed me, so I hope you'll forgive me for not updating in so long. Luckily, I do have another chapter ready that I will post in a few days, and hope to get a few chapters done during the break, especially since we're reaching the end of this story. I apologize if this chapter is rough, but since it's been so long I just wanted to get it out to you!

Don't forget to review! Thanks to all who reviewed since last time!