Their fights weren't infrequent. Sofia found Cedric to be unnervingly calm, approaching every disagreement with frustrating logic. Sometimes he let himself get lost in the fight, instead just drinking in the sight of her. She could be as tumultuous as the ocean in a storm when the waves grew high enough to lick the bottom of the path that led to Cedric's house. Their home, now. The arguments never lasted long. They had spent too long apart to waste time dwelling in squabbles.

She folded into the culture on the island effortlessly. The goodwives liked her better than they liked him. He feigned jealousy but was truly glad that she fit so well. She stopped wearing shoes, just like them, and learned to cook in their kitchens crowded with laughter.

Ankle-deep in the ocean at dawn, they were married by the village medicine man chanting words neither of them understood the exact translation of, but the meaning was clear. She wore the dress he had first seen her in weeks ago. She giggled as he gave up doing the buttons up by hand that morning and drew his wand to complete the task instead. The symmetry made him smile behind her back.

That afternoon, he came home to find Sofia sharing tea with his mother through the portrait. She admonished him, not sharing the news of Sofia's presence in his life until she happened in to find Sofia reading in an armchair instead of her son. If she hadn't been a figment of the portrait, he felt certain she would have smacked him twice across the arm after he shared with her that they had been married. That day. She immediately started discussing babies and baby names before Cedric could shoo her away. After his mother left, he tried to apologize to his wife. Sofia didn't blush, but dragged him by the hand into the bedroom with a shy smile.

Five months later found Sofia up, pacing, weeping in the middle of the night while absently rubbing the swell of her belly. Cedric sat her down, stroked her hair, and cooed soft words to her until she could calm down enough to tell him what was wrong. She had only just written to her parents to tell them where she was and that she was married to Cedric. He uncurled her fingers from the letter, opened and returned without a response, and let it fall to the floor. He pressed her head to his chest and rocked her slowly back and forth until she fell asleep.

He left and returned before she woke up the next morning, wringing his hands until he consciously schooled them to his side. He made her breakfast, read to her belly, and rubbed her feet at the end of the day. They fell back into their routine. Sofia seemed a little distant, but, ever the optimist, leaned deeply into all of the silver linings she could find.

Seven agonizing days passed with no changes before the Enchancia Royal Schooner docked on Kona Laui. Sofia dropped the bag of ingredient clippings and stared, mouth agape. Tears immediately began collecting in the corners of her eyes as she saw her mother speaking to her father on the deck of the ship. Cedric took her hand in his. He told her that he wrote them a letter a week ago. He told her he had been...forward. She looked at him skeptically. He replaced "forward" with "brash and direct." His palm was sweating as they walked together across the boardwalk. He put all of his energy toward keeping his face collected and confident. He was...intimidated to meet his wife's father in this second incarnation of his life...the man Cedric had grown up resenting, the man who had been one of the driving forces behind Cedric's departure from Enchancia. If Cedric had a choice, he would have never seen the man again. Well. He did have a choice. But he chose for Sofia, not for himself.

The wind whipped Sofia's long, thin dress around her, hiding and accentuating her pregnant belly in turns. Her mother reached her first, delicately touching Sofia's face, then her stomach, then engulfing her into her arms. They wept into each others shoulders, smiling and laughing in relieved stress. The King stood back from the two. Her mother released her and Sofia took a timid step toward her father. They stared at each other quietly. Sofia's lip quivered and she didn't get an opportunity to take another step towards him as her father's gait ate up the space between them and he held his daughter to him.

They stayed for a week and left with promises to come back for the birth of their first grandchild. The King actually shook Cedric's hand before they departed. Sofia never asked Cedric to go back to Enchancia, even with the reconciliation in hand, and just for that he was willing to accept her now near-constant joy that so frequently spoiled his self-imposed brooding afternoons. Making her happy was addicting. He sent out more letters. There were more surprise visitors. Sofia's delight at her constant company was only matched in the way her eyes sought his each time, filled with thanks as he had found how much she needed to be surrounded by the people she loved.

Despite that need to be a social butterfly flitting from friend to friend, from adventure to adventure, she put him first above others. And for Cedric, that was more than enough. He loved being the one to most often make her smile. She loved to make him laugh, which he had so rarely done before. They loved to walk in the early mornings and read and brew potions together.

They loved.

.

.

A/N

And THERE'S the resolve I was looking for!

I evaded pronouns for this. No clue why. Huzzah for variety of style, I guess!

Officially The End :)

Thank you so much again to all of the reviewers and readers, favorites and follows. Hearing from you is such a joy and makes writing in a 'published' setting instead of just my google drive feel so worthwhile.