Epilogue: 5 Years Hence

A pall of anticipated mourning had fallen over the London townhouse where Weatherby Swann had taken up residence for the last few years of his life. The former Governor of Jamaica had fallen ill and it did not seem that the old man would rise from his bed again. Many of the ton of London came to pay their respects, but it was much to the puzzlement of the staff when a very fine lady came to call at midnight, of all hours. She was accompanied by a swarthy gentleman in an absurd large black periwig, and though they were both dressed to the nines the butler would not let them pass until Estrella, the only maid Swann brought with him from the Caribee, urged that they be allowed passage inside.

With eyes wide with disbelief, Estrella exclaimed, "Why, this is…Mr. and Mrs…Gryffin, good friends of the Guvnor! Oh he will be so pleased you have made it, do come in. Sims, take their cloaks. Come now, come upstairs."

Estrella ushered them inside Weatherby's room, placing a chamberstick on the bedside table for light. When she went to wake the sleeping old man, whose breath exited his lungs with a wicked rattling wheeze, Mrs. Gryffin stayed her with a touch to her shoulder. "Please allow me, Estrella. Thank you."

The maid stepped back to give the lady room, and she carefully seated herself upon the bed. With a gentle hand upon his shoulder she whispered, "Father? Can you hear me?"

The old man's eyes slowly opened, regarding the woman before him through half closed lids. Yet soon they opened wide with disbelief, and his bony hand went to clasp hers in a weak grip. "Elizabeth?"

She smiled, tears shining in her eyes. "Yes, it's me."

With tears of his own in his clouded eyes Weatherby reached up to touch her face. "As beautiful as your mother, child. But oh dear. Perhaps you shouldn't be here…"

"Shhh," soothed Elizabeth. "It's alright. No one but Estrella recognizes us. Do you think she shall raise the alarm?"

Elizabeth shot a wry look to the maid in question, who was watching this scene unfold with clasped hands and dewy eyes. It only just occurred to the girl that this reunion might be considered a private affair, it was such a touching scene. Flustered, Estrella gathered herself, mumbling that she would be back in a little bit with refreshments, surely they had had a long journey etcetera etcetera as she flitted out the door.

"Oh my dear girl." Weatherby held her hand to his cheek. "You look well. Too much sun, perhaps."

She seemed to positively glow with vitality.

Elizabeth paid Jack a warm smile, who stood by watchfully at the foot of the bed in his ridiculous wig, a pair of tinted spectacles perched on his nose. "Yes. Jack takes very good care of me."

"All those pirate stories when you were a girl. If only I'd known…" Weatherby tried to laugh good naturedly, but it only turned into a coughing fit, and Elizabeth steadied him best she could. She noticed with a heavy heart when he was done that blood stained his handkerchief.

"Father, I have come to make you better. I want you to drink this." She drew a small silver bottle from her reticule, unscrewing the stopper.

"What is it?"

"Tis life itself."

Weatherby coughed again, though there was a sparkle in his eyes that had been absent for years. "Indeed? My, you have been busy in your adventures."

Elizabeth chuckled a little, and caressed his cheek. "You have no idea. But trust me. Come now, bottoms up."

"Dear child. I have been poked, prodded, and dosed with every foul physic conceivable to the medical profession. I wouldn't get your hopes up. It might just be my time."

"Nonsense. Besides. You want to live to meet your grandchild, don't you?"

Disbelief and joy played over Weatherby's face, and he looked between Jack and his daughter. In another life he might have been appalled by the thought of his little girl creating offspring with the infamous pirate Jack Sparrow, but now he simply could not shake the joy and disbelief that she was here. "Truly?"

"Truly." She extended the bottle, and in a shaking hand Weatherby clasped it. She helped him bring it to his lips, and the old man drank the bottle down. With a smile Elizabeth set the empty container on the bedside table. "Now then, that's settled. What would you say to a little voyage, father? We have so much lost time to catch up on."

Weatherby couldn't help but smile at his daughter's enthusiasm. Though he did miraculously feel better already, a strange tingling sensation spreading through his limbs, he simply counted it down to the happiness of seeing Elizabeth once more. It had broken his heart when he lost her, and he'd resigned himself to never seeing her again. But surely he would be coughing again in no time. He'd been coughing for nearly a year now, and it was hard to conceive it could ever go away. "I'm not so sure that I am yet fit to travel, dearest."

Elizabeth just laughed. "Oh, you will be, father. You will."

She looked to the full length mirror across the room with a smile. Weatherby's gaze followed hers, and his mouth hung agape for the man who looked back at him. No longer the picture of a man on the brink of death, skin no longer tallow, once hollow cheeks and clouded eyes now regaining their vitality once more. "Elizabeth!" Weatherby exclaimed, raising a hand to his cheek. It was supple—and his hand! He looked with amazement at his hand, no longer gnarled and arthritic, his fingers straight and strong. "What on Earth was in that bottle?"

She just laughed joyfully, embracing him tight, knowing his body could withstand it and so much more, now.

"You might not believe me if I told you…"

The End

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH, every one who has stuck with me to the end of this and left such lovely and encouraging comments! Bless your black little hearts, and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it! :D