The end! And a HUGE thankyou to the Mouse in the Opera House, Phantomfr33k24601, Flute-Angel, Kaptain Jack, Mango Schmango, MarvelousThings07, sugerpeanut, Aleviel, Dark fea, Rokhal, Saloma-Kiwi, callisto-nastasia, dora7484, iamobsessedwithharrypotter, xLady Jackal, Lilyfish, Becki-ox, DancingWithOceanWaves, and Sarah Cartwright for reviewing/listing as a favorite/putting on alert/etc. And, an especially big big BIG thankyou to frenchhornfreak and englishfreckle, both Willabether and Sparrabether respectively, for reading my Norribeth story! It's fabulous to know that we can have peace amongst the shippers.

The fact that POTC belongs to me is nonexistant, andenjoy the final chapter, everyone.

Much love! Have a good life.

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THREE WEEKS LATER

"Good day, James. I trust you are well?" Weatherby's jovial tone echoed through the hallway, resounding into the sitting room, where Elizabeth sat reading a book. She looked up at the sound of her father's voice and, putting her book down on the settee, stood up to walk across the room.

"Yes, sir. All is well. I believe you wish to speak to Elizabeth?" James' genuine cheer followed.

"Both of you, really," was the answer James received, and he motioned for the butler to take Weatherby's coat. Elizabeth stopped in the doorway and turned around, seating herself back into her chair as Weatherby entered the room, spreading his arms wide. "How's my daughter?"

She pretended to be surprised and stood up, a smile lighting her face. "Father!" she pulled the old man into an embrace, grinning at James, who was feigning jealousy. "What a lovely surprise."

"Yes, well." Weatherby pulled back and motioned for Elizabeth to sit back down. She did as she was told, patting the empty space next to her. James sat beside her, placing his hand on hers, and throwing another smile at the Governor. Weatherby was leaning back into his chair, rubbing his hands together, looking quite flushed.

"I do believe you've been wed five months now, have you not?" Elizabeth's father began.

James and Elizabeth could only nod.

"And James has yet to, er..." Weatherby's eyes twinkled, "engage... with you?"

"I don't quite understand your statement, Father," was all Elizabeth found in her voice.

James bit his lip and leaned over, whispering in her ear. Elizabeth listened closely, struggling to concentrate on what he was saying, rather than the feel of his breath on her neck. His whispers were barely audible above the thudding of her heart, which was speeding up at his almost inapt closeness. Eventually he pulled away, pink-faced and smiling nervously at the old man frowning in discomfort across from him. Elizabeth's jaw dropped, but neither man tried to correct her stance once seeing the dazed look in her eyes.

"Ah... that... that is true, Father."

Weatherby nodded solemnly, an anxious grimace spreading across his face. "I believe the reason for this was my own... er, request?"

"Yes, sir."

The Governor's face broke into another smile. Elizabeth felt a slight twinge of annoyance at her father's abrupt change in mood again, but instead of boldly commenting as she usually did, she sent him a quizzical look. James, however, had more than an inkling of what Weatherby was going to discuss, and couldn't help wiping the sweat off his nose. Weatherby clapped his hands together, "Well! I find that, in the course of events, I do wish for grandchildren. So, James..." Weatherby gestured towards Elizabeth, "as you please."

He left the room, leaving a flabbergasted James and Elizabeth in his wake.

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Dinner that night was the most frightening thing either had ever experienced. Having been born and raised into equally repressed families, both James and Elizabeth were well learned of displaying a neutral façade. Both were making use of their practised detachment - Elizabeth's mind was racing in anxiety and anticipation, while her face showed relative calm; James' mentality was a chaotic, almost hurried jumble of thoughts.

James, however, was not as successful in obscuring his emotions - he dropped his fork from a shaking hand whenever he so much as glanced at Elizabeth. The fact they were sitting across from each other made it difficult not to look, and the worrying lack of apprehension on Elizabeth's part did not help his own flustered state. Elizabeth sensed his fear, and in a feeble attempt to reassure his confidence, sent him a light smile across the table. After he dropped his wineglass onto the floor, she thought it best to just let him be.

For the rest of the meal, Elizabeth made several attempts to start a conversation, but to no avail. The only positive result she received was a nervous grin from James, which soon disappeared into another stare at his plate. He made an effort to eat; in the end he couldn't make his jaw crush his food, let alone swallow. Elizabeth could only watch sympathetically as her husband stumbled through his dinner.

"You'll be fine," was all she could say. James only nodded.

An eternity later – or perhaps it was a quarter hour; James had trouble keeping track of anything – Elizabeth placed her cutlery together, beaming at James, who hastily wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. Elizabeth followed suit and, taking his quivering hand, placed a kiss on his cheek. He bit his lip in unease, leading his wife to their bedroom. James didn't understand it; for months now he had longed for this day, yet all he could feel was trepidation. A third of him was overjoyed, but only slightly. He had some idea of what to do, but he'd never…

Elizabeth, noticing his lapse of mind, opened their door and let herself in. James trailed slowly after her, stopping to turn around and close the door. As the lock clicked shut, he froze completely. There was a pause in the air as the sound of the rustling of material echoed around the silent room. James closed his eyes, his hand still resting on the doorknob, mind frozen in vulnerability.

"James?"

He shivered involuntarily. "Yes, Elizabeth?"

She covered herself with the blanket, sliding underneath the sheet. "There's no hurry, James. Nobody will force you."

James swallowed, "No, I… we can… will… tonight." He let go of the doorknob and turned around, facing his wife. "Now."

Nothing further needed to be said. He knew it was the moment he had lived for. She knew how much he had longed for it. He knew, the moment his lips touched hers, that there was nothing left to fear. She knew it was what he had wanted, what she had wanted, what they had wanted. James knew, holding her close, that nothing mattered, nobody else mattered. She was the sun, he was the earth.

Everything was her. Everything was him.

They were sated, joined, entwined as one.