A/N: The song at the end is by Ingrid Michaelson and is called Far Away. I thought the lyrics fit this story and so decided to include it. The song is rather pretty by itself- go on YouTube and listen to it; it's really good.


We found Ponce de Leon's ship and built a raft out of the wood. We sailed the raft to the nearest port and bartered passage back to my island with the mysterious compass I stole from Jack. I was loathe to leave it, but I realized I wouldn't need it where we were going.

Cutler wanted to go back to my island, but at first, I did not. He managed to convince me. He had seen enough of the world to last his lifetime, and though I had not, we agreed that our lives on the island need not be in the solitude I had before lived. Every fortnight we go to port, and sometimes more often, mingling with the people, trading news and stories, and generally just… living.


It wass a small ceremony, just us and the priest and Brother James as witness. I didn't see why we needed to get married; we knew we loved each other and had already decided to spend the rest of our lives together. Why did we need to say some words to confirm it? But Cutler insisted, and it really was no skin off my back. In fact, I kind of enjoyed it. We are officially man and wife when my skiff, dutifully maintained by Brother James, carries us (Bull included, barking happily in the aft of the boat at the return of his master) back to my island. Our journey has come full circle.


My belly grows larger by the day, and Cutler is fond of laying a hand on it and whispering things to the baby growing inside me. Cutler says that if it's a boy he wants to name him Davos. I think Davos Beckett has a nice ring to it. But if it's a girl, I will name her Mannalin. In a way, we owe this life to her, and I want her to be remembered.

We've been enlarging the hut. Cutler's no good with tools, but he's strong enough to carry the wood and now that he can see he takes simple pleasure in driving the nails home with a hammer. I guess you really can't call it a hut anymore; its more like a house now. We go to the mainland once fortnightly for supplies, and I have begun to sell more fish with the frequent visits. I like seeing the people and talking to them. I still prize our solitude, but I have come to realize that what I always considered before meeting Cutler as peaceful solitude was no more than uninterrupted loneliness. I will forever be grateful to the tide for washing him up on the beach, and for whatever intuition stayed my hand from tossing his body overboard.


Beckett and I sit on our porch, built by our own two hands. I think is oddly fitting that the hut has been lived in by three generations of my family- my father, myself, and now baby Mannalin.

"Your name does not mean peace for naught," Beckett says out of the blue. I am momentarily stunned, but then the flood of a memory washes over me of a day on our hike to the fountain when sleep had been elusive for me. I had said into the silence,

"You know, Cutler, I think my father was wrong." Cutler said sleepily,

"About what, my dear?"

"He always told me that the island was peace, and the mainland was chaos. That's why he named me Winnifred, you know. It means peace. I agree with the island part, but not so much about the mainland. It's chaos, but an orderly chaos. A fun chaos." Cutler never replied, and I thought him asleep, but apparently he had been listening, and he had remembered… it touches me more than I would have expected.

"You have made me whole again, Winnifred. Not just by helping me find the Fountain. Every day has contributed, you have contributed, little Mannalin, too, and every time you tell me you love me, I feel alive."

"I love you, then."

"I love you too."


I will live my life as a lobsterman's wife on an island in the blue bay

He will take care of me, he will smell like the sea,

And close to my heart he'll always stay

I will bear three girls all with strawberry curls, little Ella and Nelly and Faye

While I'm combing their hair, I will catch his warm stare

On our island in the blue bay

Far away far away, I want to go far away

To a new life on a new shore line

Where the water is blue and the people are new

To another island, in another life

There's a boy next to me and he never will be anything but a boy at the bar

And I think he's the tops, he's where everything stops

How I love to love him from afar

When he walks right pass me then I finally see on this bar stool I can't stay

So I'm taking my frown to a far distant town

On an island in the blue bay.

Far away far away, I want to go far away

To a new life on a new shore line

Where the water is blue and the people are new

To another island, in another life

I want to go far away

Away away, I want to go far away, away, away

I want to go far away, far away

Where the water is blue and the people are new

To another life, to another life

To another shoreline, in another life

A/N: And that's it. The end. It's finally finished, and I'm oddly proud of it. I admit it could do with some editing, but my first priority was always getting the chapters out ASAP, so thorough read-overs sort of fell through the floor. I think someday I will go through and revise it, but not today, and not this summer. I think one day, after I've completed that editing task, I will write a companion piece to this that follows Barbossa and Jack on the Pearl about the time that Winifred and Cutler are there. Remember when I teased you with the mystery of why the rowboat was already stocked with provisions? And what ever happened to all their gold? One of many questions I intend to answer… assuming you'd like to know. Tell me what you think in a review.

I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it, and I would very much enjoy a last review from all of you who have stuck with the story till the end so I can hear your overall opinions. (Yes, that means you, anonymous people who read without reviewing. I don't hold it against you, but you DO owe me.) Auf Weidersehen and Good night!