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Too long—I have been gone too long. The ship has changed, the people have changed. My Sinbad has changed.

I knew it the moment I looked into those oceanic eyes of his. My connection with him is still there, but it has grown weak from those years of disuse. He is my light, my love, and here he is, reduced nearly to the dark state of those he fought. The light in his eyes has nearly gone out…and I know I am the cause.

Oh, I hated looking him in the eyes! I almost couldn’t—those eyes of his asked a million questions that I never had any hope of answering. Why did you do this to me? Why did you leave? Didn’t you see how much I cared…how much I loved you? Look what your absence has done to me! The worst part was that there was no accusation at all in his piercing blue gaze. His eyes bored into me with his unanswerable questions but, though I felt waves of guilt and remorse for leaving him so abruptly like I had, there was no accusation anywhere in his eyes. Just those horrible questions and, burning behind them like a fire slowly dying for want of attention, was a wounded love…a love for me.

Allah, I called silently to his god, why has he not abandoned me and gone on to foster his attentions on another? Even when I was here, I was sullen and closed. I did not let him near me, did not tell him how I felt or give him any opening to talk to me about how he felt. And when I left him… Why does my memory live on in him still? But my questions, like Sinbad’s, went unanswered.

There was another with them, a girl too young for her old, old eyes and too old for her delicate innocence. At first I wondered if that wounded-puppy look was all for show, but then I realized that was simply her character. Yet all the sailors respect her…I can see in her eyes that no one’s tried to throw her overboard. I don’t think she could emotionally live through such an attack on her gender. I see that respect they give her…it’s the respect I won from them. They won’t heckle women on board the Nomad anymore.

Dermott was with her. I can feel something he’s hiding from me…he has become quite protective of his temporary mistress. I suppose there is something about her that would make men want to protect her. She’s so tiny, and at times she can look so damn lost and pitiful… I don’t want to like her—I know she has feelings for Sinbad—but I can’t help but pity her situation. To be wandering aimlessly about the seven seas with no home to return to…all because she’s lost her memory… I never had a home to return to, either, but at least I knew what I wasn’t missing. That feeling of not-knowing must be awful.

My Doubar isn’t as jolly, either. I don’t see as many new Firouz-inventions as I thought I would. Rongar seems quieter, more off in his own world. Am I just imagining it? Is time merely taking its toll on these people? Or is it something else…? No, I can’t think that I am the cause of this change in the crew. I was with them for a year, no more. Who am I to presume that my absence changed something between the rest of them? I’m simply me.

The Nomad, thankfully, looks nearly the same. A smaller storage room has been changed into a cabin for the girl. I don’t know why Sinbad didn’t just put her in my old cabin…another question to ask him when next we meet. I didn’t know if I would be welcome here…I still don’t know if I’ll stay…it all depends on certain things…

Someone knocks on the door. I look up from my sword, which I had been in the middle of polishing. Sinbad seemed a little sheepish when he gave it back to me earlier…as if he’d been embarrassed for me to find out he’d kept it with him and taken care of it like it was his own. I was surprised he had done so, but I’m definitely thankful he did. This old blade has never been so well taken care of, though it’s been a prized family heirloom for four generations. "Come in," I call, trying to keep my voice pleasant and calm. I have learned a lot while in Master Dim-Dim’s care the past two years, and there’s no point in falling back into bad habits now. I don’t need the cover of cold impersonality anymore…I hope.

It’s Sinbad. Somehow, I think I knew it would be. He pokes his head around the door and smiles hesitantly before stepping all the way in and latching the door behind him. I don’t quite know what to say—I can feel my face and hands getting warm from the way he’s looking at me with those deep, piercing eyes of his.

"I wanted to talk to you," he says quietly. I try to look away, but his eyes are drawing me in as if they could capture me just by staring at me hard enough. They’ve turned colder…but I can still see the warm, friendly Sinbad behind that almost pirate gleam. He’s changed all around—his clothes, his hair, everything. I don’t like it.

I nod in response to his statement. What is there to say? I want to talk to you, too? What the hell have you done to yourself? Where’s the Sinbad I know? He sits down next to me on my bed—he’s so close I can reach out and touch him if I want to…which I do, but not right now. I want to hear what he has to say.

Those blue eyes draw me in…I swear I could drown in them easier than I could in the ocean outside. He raises a hand as if he wants to touch my face, but then he lets it fall again. "Maeve…" he says, and his voice is barely audible. I wait for him to speak again. If there’s one thing Master Dim-Dim tried to teach me while I was with him, it was patience. If there’s two, the second would be forgiveness.

"Maeve, I can hardly believe you’re here again," he whispers. The end of that sentence is half of a breathy laugh, but it’s more a laugh of relief and astonishment than anything else. "I…when that wave took you away I thought for sure you were dead. Then when Dim-Dim told us you were alive and safe, I thought for sure our paths would never cross again, or if they did that you’d be going your way and we’d be going ours…I never dared hope that we’d get another chance…that I’d get another chance."

I swallow hard. Is Sinbad really saying what I think he is saying? I look deep into his eyes, so shaded now by disappointment and heartbreak, and old anger and fear. There was much he feared, and there was much that made him angry. Turn away from the anger and fear, I urge him silently. Your Allah knows I know what I’m talking about! They’re not worth your life…they’re not worth your soul. But of course, I don’t say it out loud and he doesn’t hear me.

"Maeve," he says again, "I promised myself that if I ever got another chance to tell you this, I’d take it and I wouldn’t hesitate one moment more. Maeve, I love you."

I open my mouth to say something, but he gently sets two fingers against my lips and goes on. "Just a minute, Maeve, let me finish. I love you." He takes a deep, shaky breath and runs his fingers through his hair, which has grown even longer and looks like it is in need of a good wash. "I know I’m not the person I was when you knew me before. You’re probably not the exact same person I remember, either. But that doesn’t matter to me. I have to tell you so you’ll know, no matter what comes after. I love you. I died when you left…it was as if I didn’t know how to go on anymore. I knew I cared deeply about you, but I never knew how much I depended on you until you suddenly weren’t there anymore. I’d look around the ship to see you…and I couldn’t find you. I’d wait for you to come on deck like you so often did and stand at the bow of the ship, but of course you wouldn’t because you weren’t here." He leans in closer, his eyes boring holes through my soul. "I’m sorry, Maeve, but I had to tell you. I couldn’t have lived without letting you know how I feel. I don’t know what you’ve been through these past two years, but I want you to know that no matter what, I love you in this moment and I always will."

I can feel tears burning in the back of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not right now. I lean forward and close the gap between us, resting my forehead against his. "Sinbad," I whisper, "you have changed." I run a hand through his hair before cupping his face in both my hands, running my thumbs along the smooth skin above his stubbly chin. "And so have I. There is much I have learned since I had to leave; about myself, and about other people as well. I’ve learned that I can’t live my life like I was trying to live it—without other people. I need people in my life to lean on when I just can’t do it myself." I take a breath; this is the part I have the most trouble vocalizing. "I need you."

A sudden exultation of warm air tells me Sinbad has been holding his breath throughout my revelation. I smile gently. "I love you, too, Sinbad. I just haven’t been able to admit it before, not even to myself. Do you know how much I hated being separated from you?" I glance down. "Sometimes I’d just go and sit on the beach, hoping that if I wished hard enough that I’d see the silhouette of the Nomad appear on the horizon. How awful is that!" I laugh breathily, and the captain of the Nomad returns my laugh. "Throughout those two years, Dim-Dim tried to teach me how to trust, how to let go of my hate and anger. What he didn’t realize was that you’d already given me my first lessons in that. You taught me more than Dim-Dim ever hoped to, Sinbad. You taught me how to love."

His hands reach up, then, and I feel him trace the contours of my face with a light, almost reverent touch. I let go of his face and drop my hands so they rest in the crook of his elbows. One of his hands tangles itself in my hair, cupping the nape of my neck gently as he brings his face forward to mine. My eyes flutter closed as I feel his gentle kiss, something I’d been hoping for and longing for ever since the last time we’d kissed, after defeating the Vorgon. And as his lips touch mine, I know I could never leave again. We are bound together now, no matter what anybody else says. He is my sailor, and as much as I hate to admit it, he’s nabbed himself a sorceress. This is where I belong.

Late that night, as I lie in my bed—my bed, which I haven’t been in for two years—comfortably curled around a slumbering blue-eyed sailor, I let the tears come. They aren’t tears of pain, or sorrow. They are tears of relief, of joy. Joy that I have finally been able to tell Sinbad how I feel, and that he feels the same. Relief that I have returned to tell him this before the pain and anger he feels consumes him fully. I tighten my grip on him slightly, almost as if touching him can renew the hold I know I have on his heart. I saw it in his eyes. The healing process has begun.

There will definitely be some changes around here. First off, my captain is going somewhere—anywhere—to get a decent haircut and a shave. Then we’re going to find his old clothes, or something that looks like his old clothes, and I’m going to burn this rediculous outfit he’s wearing… Just wait, sailor…you dared to change on me, now I get to change you back!

His arms tighten around me in response to my movement. I look up from where my head has been resting on his chest, and I see those beautiful shining eyes awake and gazing at me with the most rapt expression I’ve ever seen…

"What are you thinking?" he asks me, a little half-smile on his face. He raises one hand and traces the tear-stains that have nearly dried up on my skin. Instead of answering, I decide to ask him a question that’s been bothering me since I’ve been back.

"Sinbad, why didn’t you give that girl my cabin when she came on board?" I ask. Bryn! I chide myself. I have to start calling her Bryn!

My love’s face becomes serious again. "Because this is your cabin. After you left, I couldn’t bring myself to move your things…and I didn’t want her going through them. I know it’s silly, but…"

I silence him with a passionate kiss, after which I lay back down against him, feeling his arms wrap around me once more. I snuggle into his warmth and close my eyes, though I’m not really tired. Sinbad takes the hand I’ve stretched out over his chest and cups it in his own, running his thumb over the smooth skin on my palm.

"Things are going to be different now, aren’t they?" he asks. "You’re a full sorceress now, right?"

"Mm-hm," I say. "But don’t worry—my aim is as good as ever."

He chuckles, and I can feel him smile. "That’s a relief…so what do we tell the guys?"

"About what?"

He grins again—he knows I know what he’s talking about. "I mean, about us. They’ll have questions…can I tell them I tamed myself a sorceress?"

It’s my turn to grin. I raise my head and give him a wicked smile. "Only if I can tell them I tamed myself a sea captain…Sinbad, no less, Master of the Seven Seas."

He laughs, his dimples reappearing even through that disgusting stubble. "Maybe we should just let them figure it all out on their own," he says. By now I can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s getting sleepy. I kiss him again, loving the fact that I can do that whenever I want, and snuggle down into his warmth. His arms tighten around me, and soon he falls asleep. I’ve tamed me the Master of the Seven Seas, I think, but then I smile ruefully. I don’t want the Master of the Seven Seas, I want Sinbad. I’ve touched the elusive inner core of him, the special part of Sinbad that few get to see. I smile again, a real smile, and close my eyes. Here, in Sinbad’s warm, protecting arms, I’ve found home.