It had been so long.
Murtagh lurked at the edge of the entrance to the castle, unsure of how he should proceed. The castle looked the same as it had when he was living in it, under Galbatorix's rule, yet the feeling that emanated from the people who lived in Ilirea - renamed, he'd heard, since Galbatorix's fall - cast the formerly dark place in a very different light.
She was up there, somewhere, Murtagh was sure of it. And yet there seemed no proper way to move forward.
Eight years has certainly changed this city, Thorn commented, swinging his spiky head from side to side in order to take everything in.
Murtagh didn't answer in words, but he knew that his dragon could feel his silent agreement.
When they'd met Eragon while winging their way back towards the city, he'd told them of everything that had transpired since he and Thorn had chosen to leave for a time. He and Thorn hadn't been surprised to learn that Roran had been made an earl, and that he and Katrina were now expecting another baby to be a brother or sister for their eight-year-old daughter and their five-year-old son.
They had, however, been shocked to learn of - and see - Eragon's own child, a girl with dark hair like Eragon's and green eyes like her mother's. Eragon had explained to them, his voice filled with sheepishness and pride, that Arya had come to visit him a few months after he'd departed Alagaesia. Nine months later, their daughter was born. Murtagh was pleased and surprised to find that the young girl, Dialyn, resembled him in certain undeniable ways.
Remembering the little girl had brought a smile to his face, but when he looked up at the castle again, his smile disappeared and his heart filled with nervousness. The biggest reason he'd returned to Alagaesia was somewhere in that enormous building, completely unaware that he'd decided to come back.
Murtagh, Thorn's musical voice said softly. Go. I'll be here when you return.
Murtagh hesitated a moment longer, then nodded determinedly. I'll see you in a while.
And without further hesitation, he strode in through the castle's open gates.
The interior of the castle had probably undergone the most drastic change. Someone had thought to paint the walls a much lighter colour and put in windows, so that the entire wing he walked through seemed to shine in the darkness. When he reached the stairwell, he stepped forward and started climbing without pause, knowing that if she were anywhere in this castle, it would be the topmost level.
But he turned out to be wrong in that respect. For as he alighted on the seventh floor, someone exited a chamber on the far end of the wide hallway. His heart skipped a beat.
The person took a step in his direction.
Murtagh suddenly had trouble breathing.
And Nasuada turned and looked him in the eye.
Even from the opposite end of the corridor, Murtagh could hear her gasp. Her eyes widened in disbelief, as if she were wondering whether or not what she was seeing was real.
As if in a trance, Murtagh walked forward.
A strange expression crossed Nasuada's face, and she started towards him. Then, before Murtagh had really registered what was happening, they were both running full tilt down the corridor. A moment later, the world around him fell away and Nasuada hurtled into his embrace.
Murtagh wrapped his arms around her so tightly he felt he must be crushing her, but Nasuada didn't seem to care at all. She threw her hands around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, while Murtagh picked her up and swung her around as though she didn't weigh a pound.
When he set her down, they stayed, wrapped around each other, for a time Murtagh couldn't possibly have named. Nasuada was murmuring something in his ear that he finally identified as the same phrase, over and over: "I missed you. You're back. Thank the gods, you've come back."
Murtagh finally pulled his head away from Nasuada's to look her properly in the eye. "Yes. I'm back. And now, I have no intention of ever leaving again."
She smiled radiantly at him. Murtagh's heart swelled.
"I love you," he said, repeating the words he'd said to her as he left her side seven years before.
"And I you," she said back to him, her smile growing. She too had echoed the words of their last conversation since he'd left, but this time their words were filled with promise and not farewell.
Murtagh felt his eyes flutter shut, almost of their own accord, and he leaned in towards her. Nasuada's smile seemed to split his face in two as Murtagh's warm breath caressed her face, and then finally as his lips touched hers.
Murtagh felt as though a giant weight in his chest had finally been lifted; an emotion and an anger he hadn't known he'd been holding onto had at last disintegrated as he kissed Nasuada. As her fingers wound through his hair and pulled him closer, Murtagh realized that finally, for the first time in many long years, he was happy.
When Nasuada pulled back to look him in the eyes, the expression on her face made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. She seemed to be doing a little of both.
"You're here," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "You're really here."
He nodded, and bent to brush his lips against hers again. "I'm finally home again."
But it wasn't Ilirea he was talking about, the place where he'd been born. It was Nasuada he spoke of. Looking into her eyes, he felt that yes, he was finally home again.