Archer was always having dreams, and tonight, he dreamt of Jeanne.

He wasn't sure why, because he hadn't dreamt of his former lover in years. He dreamt of her with inspiring vivacity. Her golden hair tied behind a yellow hairband, framing her round face. Her large, blue eyes staring up at him.

In some kind of way, he missed her greatly. He missed the simplicity, the predictability. No physical fights, hardly any verbal ones. Emotions out in the open, actions as a form of accountability. And the biggest part he missed? It had never been unrequited.

Jeanne had been soft and unproblematic because she'd been tired, always fighting to live the next day. She knew the kind of hell no pirate or sailor ever could, and that made him feel like he was her partner, her equal.

In fleeting moments, Silta felt like that to him. During the adventure, but never in the quiet moments afterward. He'd grown confident in the presence of others, but he lost it lost that surety around her.

Archer dreamt of Jeanne. Simple, returned love.

Maybe it was because the way he lost Jeanne was preferrable to the way he lost Silta. With Jeanne, there was a firm line of separation, no pull to go back or circumstance that put them together.

Archer dreamt of Jeanne. He dreamt of round eyes and yellow hairbands. He dreamt of her and her smile, the teeth that didn't cut him, the woman he should've spent his life with.

But maybe dreaming wasn't quite the word for it.