Jora smiled at the way Sage’s voice softened when he spoke of Liz, but her expression turned gentle—understanding—at his next words. She knew what he meant. That weight of pain shaping someone, the way peace sometimes came only after the storm had taken half your sails with it. She pressed a kiss to his temple, murmuring, “Then we’ll live in a way that would’ve made it all worth it—for both of you.”

When he shifted to teasing her, she rolled her eyes, feigning offense. “Excuse you. I am not bossy. I’m assertive.” Her grin widened. “And someone had to take charge, seeing as you were too busy trying to flirt with me with blood dripping down your arm that one time.”

She was teasing too, but beneath it was warmth. Familiarity. The kind that came from years of shared moments, hard-earned trust, and a bond forged in more than just passion—it was home now. It was theirs.

At his next words, though, her grin faded into something softer, more tender. She rested her forehead against his for a moment, her breath warm and steady. “You deserve that happiness, Sage,” she whispered. “And even on the days when your mind tries to drag you somewhere else—I’ll be here. Pulling you back.”

She knew he still struggled. She saw it in the way he sometimes stared too long at the sea. The silence that would settle over him in the evenings. But he fought for them. For her. And she’d do the same every damn time.

She chuckled as he wrinkled his nose and spoke about their daughters, nudging him playfully. “Oh, you’re absolutely done for. Especially if they figure out how to pout.” Her grin returned, wicked and proud. “You won’t stand a chance.”

She leaned into him, arms curling more tightly around his waist. “But that’s alright. I think you were made to love like this, Sage. Fiercely. Messily. Completely.” Her eyes closed as she rested there against him, voice softening to a murmur. “And I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

Jora watched him with a quiet kind of love as he kissed her knuckles, the gesture gentle in contrast to all the fire and fight that had once defined his life. There was no hesitation in his words, no wavering in his voice. And she believed him—believed that he would go through it all again, just to find this. Just to find them.

She gave a soft smile, one that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Then I guess we’ll just have to make sure it was all worth it. Every damn step.”

Her grin turned sly when he protested her being bossy, and she arched a brow. “They’re not the same thing. Bossy is what you call a woman when she’s right and you don’t want to admit it.” She snorted, amused. “And that ‘small scratch’ was bleeding down your whole damn side. I should’ve smacked you for even pretending it wasn’t bad.”

Still, her hand never let go of his. She liked the way their fingers fit together—firm and certain, even when the world wasn’t.

But the shift in his tone didn’t go unnoticed. She stilled, her thumb brushing over his knuckles as he voiced his fears, quiet but raw. She didn’t rush to reassure him. Instead, she let the silence settle a moment, heavy but not smothering.

“You didn’t hurt me, Sage,” she said softly, but firmly. “You didn’t. Even when it got bad, even when you panicked—you pulled away. You stopped. That matters.”

She turned her head to press a kiss to his temple. “And if it ever happens again, we’ll face it together. I’m not afraid of your ghosts.” Her voice didn’t waver. “But I won’t let them take you from us, either. We’re stronger than they are. You’re stronger than they are.”

She let the mood ease again, chuckling as he flopped onto the bed with a dramatic groan. “Mhm. Get used to it. You’ll be surrounded by pouting, giggling girls and you’ll love every second of it.” Her tone was light, teasing—but there was truth there too. He would love it. She already knew.

Then, a little quieter, as she trailed her fingers across his chest, she added, “We should teach her to swim soon. Lyra, I mean.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “I know she has some sea nymph blood thanks too you, but since we're practically surrounded by the water I think it's a good idea just in case" she tells him. "Plus we'd get to enjoy some swim days with her" she adds.

Jora snorted softly at his grumble, though the fondness in her expression didn’t falter. She leaned over to nudge his side with her elbow, just enough to make her point. “You say that like you don’t adore every second of being bossed around,” she teased, eyes twinkling. “And besides… don’t act like you’ve ruled out the possibility of a boy. It’s not like we get to pick.”

She paused, then added with a smirk, “Unless you’ve been hiding some secret magic that lets you choose your baby’s sex, and if that’s the case I have questions.”

Her gaze softened again, thumb brushing against the back of his hand. “But if our next is a boy… maybe he’ll be the one to drag you around for once. Ask to help on your ship. Follow you like a shadow.” She smiled, clearly enjoying the picture of it. “Or maybe he’ll be quiet, like Lyra. Stick close to my skirts and watch the world before stepping into it.”

She looked at him more directly. “Whatever we have… girl or boy, loud or shy, wild or cautious… they’ll be ours. That’s what matters.”

Her hand drifted to his chest, fingers splaying lightly over his heartbeat. “And they’ll grow up knowing how to swim. How to fight if they want to. How to pick strawberries and patch sails and tell stories and stitch wounds and not take shit from anyone.” Her smile quirked. “They’ll know how to be kind and clever. Just like we wanted to be, back when we didn’t know how.”

When he agreed to the swimming idea, her smile widened and she nodded. “Good. Lyra’ll love it. She’s been eyeing the deeper water lately, but she clings like a little starfish.” She glanced at him. “Might be good for your nerves too, letting her learn some independence in something safe. Something we can teach her.”

The mention of her mother made her pause, but she gave a small nod. “She’d like that, I think. She doesn’t say much, but… she’s trying. For Lyra. For us.” There was a beat of quiet. “It means a lot, you wanting to know her.”

Jora huffed a laugh at his initial comment, rolling her eyes as she leaned into him with a smirk. “Well, lucky for you, I happen to be very good at bossing you around in bed,” she said sweetly, clearly proud of herself. Then she snorted again, shaking her head. “Honestly, I don’t expect you to be strict at all. That’s my job. You’re gonna be the soft one. The one they run to when I say no, all big eyes and pouty lips.” She gave him a playful glare. “Don’t you dare undermine me, sailor.”

Still, her expression softened as his laughter filled the room, warm and real and rich in a way that still sent little shivers through her chest every time. She loved that sound. It meant he was okay. He was happy. And that meant the world.

“I think so too,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Whatever comes next, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

She fell quiet for a moment, just enjoying the image he painted—Lyra, drawn to the sea like he was. It made sense. Their daughter had a curiousness in her, a tug in her bones toward the waves. It felt like destiny. Jora’s fingers traced absent shapes along his arm as he spoke. “She’s already yours through and through,” she said softly. “The sea’s in her blood because it’s in yours. She’s got your fire.”

And then came the topic of her mother.

Jora sighed, not in frustration, but in thought. She listened, letting him speak, and then she nodded slowly. “She is family,” she agreed. “But she’s cautious. Careful with trust. Especially when it comes to me.” She paused. “It’s not you, Sage. Not really. It’s what you mean. How much space you take up in my heart. She’s always been afraid of losing me to someone else. She doesn’t say it, but I know it.”

She turned to look at him directly now. “You don’t have to win her over, but you can show her who you are. Let her see what I already know. You’re not some reckless pirate who’s gonna drag me into ruin.” A faint smirk flicked across her lips. “You’re the reckless pirate who’s building a home with me. Raising a kid with me. Thinking about swimming lessons and baby names and talking to my mom.”

Her hand came up to brush his cheek gently. “You don’t have to be perfect for her. You’re already everything to me. That’s more than enough.”