A/N set in postwar Alagaësia after the death of Galbatorix.

After three months away from his home Murtagh is utterly exhausted. Although he would never admit it he longs to see his wife slouched against the far wall of their room reading oblivious to everything and his stepson running about the house seemingly without a care in the world, his innocence shining like a beacon in the darkest of nights.

These thoughts make his mouth curl in an uncharacteristic half smile as he mercilessly spurs his horse onward. He realizes it would've been much easier for him to stop and spend the night at a local inn, but he's almost there now and doesn't want to stop unless absolutely necessary. It occurs to him how lonely it was being in Urû'baen all this time without Ameline or Anthony to keep him company. Most of the men there seemed to share their time with prostitutes and bar wenches to stop the feelings from surfacing, but Murtagh had no interest in whore nor had he ever needed to pay for sex.

He finally got in the door, it bothered him immensely that the door was left unlocked and he didn't exactly know why. Exhausted he trudged up the stairs thankful to finally be able to sleep in his own bed. On his way down the long hallway he noticed Anthony's door open, curious he stepped inside his stepson's room. The four year old was curled in a ball at the head of his bed whimpering, Murtagh frowned striding over to where the boy slept in unrest. By the time he made it across the room he was tossing and turning violently, Murtagh knelt next to him and felt his forehead thinking perhaps he was sick but he was fine if not a little cold. He pushed Anthony's blonde hair away from his forehead in an attempt to somehow comfort him, immediately his pale blue eyes fluttered open. He stared up at his stepfather with tears streaming out of his eyes then sat up wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I had a nightmare about when dad used to hurt me and mummy." Murtagh grit his teeth not wanting to think about that sickening man abusing his small child and his wife.

"I'm sorry Anthony." He said sympathetically, he really did feel pure unadulterated loathing for the man who had cruelly mistreated his foster child and his mother, thanking every god that he was now dead. "Do you think you can go back to sleep?" The boy nodded sleepily his eyes already drooping; Murtagh leaned over and pulled the blankets over Anthony who still looked at him with apprehension. Murtagh sat beside him and said gently "Hey it's going to be okay, you're going to be hurt here." Anthony nodded once more and closed his eyes apparently believing Murtagh's words. Closing the door behind him he felt his way down the hallway once more trying not to stumble on his way to his living quarters.

As quietly as he could he removed his boots and unnecessary items of clothing then looked over at his sleeping wife. Ameline had her back facing him as she often slept; her nightgown was the softest shade of light blue. Her white skin almost glowed in the moonlight that filtered through a window just above her giving her ethereal look. He ambled over to her side and kneeled just as he had done with Anthony. He stared at her like he always did when he got back from a long trip, he didn't know why he did it but it was a strange tradition he had established for himself.

He started with her face.

It was true she was plain even with honey colored hair and big blue eyes, but there was something he found immensely striking about her. To him she was beautiful.

He moved on to her neck and chest.

He skimmed the column of her neck to the sharp contours of her collarbone and down to her lovely breasts.

Then her torso.

This was by far the most surprising feature as the others had been unchanged by the months, for the normal flatness of her stomach was now replaced with a significant bulge. It took Murtagh a moment to register what this could be. It finally occurred to him that it was his unborn child that was causing this tremendous difference in her appearance.

He fell backwards onto his hands floored by the realization. He heard a faint gasp next to him and became aware that his presence had awoken Ameline whose blue eyes were now boring into him.

"Murtagh?" her voice trembles. He doesn't respond he's too busy analyzing the situation. "Murtagh? Are you alright?" her voice is a little stronger now. "Yes I'm fine." He shakes his head trying to clear his thoughts. "Sorry I'm not fully awake right now."

She bites her lip and hands nervously fidget with the cloth that stretches over her full stomach. She takes a long breath and mutters quietly, "So I assume you know about" She puts her hand on swell. "this." She finishes. He nods dumbly since he has rarely ever been caught off guard. "I didn't find out until after you left and I didn't really have any way of contacting you." She sputters off nervously deliberately not meeting his eyes.

"It's alright Ameline I'm not mad." Finally she looks at him, her eyes telling him everything. She's nervous, she's scared, she doesn't want this to be like last time, and she wants to know how he really feels.

Ameline scoots over in bed giving him a place to sit and he does. They sit in silence for a while before Murtagh turns to her and does something very out of character, he reaches out and strokes her face then leans in a kisses her. It's short but not something they ever really do, even during sex they rarely kiss, both finding it entirely too intimate.

She gasps softly touching her fingers to her lips but before she can say anything he leans in a kisses her again deeper and longer this time. He leans her back onto the bed and to his surprise she responds eagerly by winding her fingers into his hair. Normally when they were intimate she isn't very responsive which is mostly due to the sexual torment she had to endure in her first marriage, but tonight he could feel a shift in her attitude. He reaches a hand under her shift and messages the soft skin of her thigh tenderly, doing his best not to scare her. Slowly he begins to pull it off and she tenses. Ameline was terrified of him inspecting her marred body, but instead of the appalled gaze she instead sees one of the upmost desire.

By now she is shaking but whether from nerves or excitement she doesn't know. Ameline take the initiative and begins taking off his breaches and soon they are both bare. He entered her with the greatest of care making complete sure she isn't hurting in any way, once he is sure he begins moving building speed as time passes.

Ameline has never before known pleasure like this. When she was younger she would hear her maids whisper about their passionate sexual encounters, but after her marriage Finlay she no longer believed those secretive tales of her childhood. She understood now the bliss they spoke of and the feeling of belonging.

After they were finished with their love making he holds her around the waist and lays a hand on her abdomen where their child moves excitedly at its fathers touch. Ameline smiles and interlocks her fingers with his, and for the first time in her life drifts to sleep feeling satisfied and safe.