A/N: I'm so, so sorry for making you wait so long for this last chapter. I guess you probably don't care that I've been busy out of my mind, but that's why it's taken so long. Still, it's the first multi-chapter piece I've ever finished. I'm a little afraid that I turned Daine into a simpering dolt at the end, but all in all I think it's good. But anyway, I hope that you enjoy the ending!

And if you feel so inclined, you can feel free to check out some of the other stuff I've written.

Chapter 9

In the days following the hurroks' attack, Daine mostly stayed in her room at the inn. Numair remained by her side for the majority of the time she was recovering, from injuries now as well as illness, and on occasion Amily and a few other benevolent people would stop by. From these visits she gleaned that although some people were beginning to question her lineage, fewer still were willing to risk her power or Numair's to cause her trouble.

It was for the best, she supposed, that she had finally faced her past, but she couldn't help but feel that she hadn't really conquered it. It had taken years for her to heal, or at least learn to live with, the wounds that Snowsdale had inflicted on her—and now she had to go through that healing process all over again. In her mind she knew that she was not worthless, that she was respected and loved, but something in her still believed what she had been told so long by the villagers here.

Worse still, she had doubted Numair, and something in her still doubted—not that he had been unfaithful to her, but that he would want to be with someone like her.

As her body recovered, Daine began to feel more and more that if they would just leave Snowsdale, everything would go back to normal, although she was aware that this was silly. Still, when Numair suggested that they go on a walk for a change of scenery, she was more than happy to jump on the idea of leaving the room that was beginning to feel like a prison cell.

They walked in silence through the village, with Numair's protective arm around her waist. As they passed the last houses, Daine began to relax into his embrace. They made small talk as they walked slowly down a frosted path into the forest surrounding the village; Daine told him about the time that she had gotten lost in that same forest because she had been intent on following a mother chipmunk to her nest. By the end of the story, though, she was out of breath, and the two of them brushed the snow off a fallen log so they could sit down.

"How do you feel?" the mage wanted to know, the two of them having avoided the subject of her health for the duration of the walk.

"I'll be feeling much better as soon as we can finally leave here," she informed him stubbornly; they had been over this several times.

"Magelet, I understand that you want to leave Snowsdale behind you as soon as possible," Numair replied with a sad smile that told her he was remembering Carthak, "but we both know that you're not well enough to be on the road again."

Daine crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at her lover. The worst part was that she knew that he knew—to an extent—what she was going through.

"I'm well enough to walk this far, aren't I?" she pointed out, refusing to give it up so easily. "And it's not that far to the next town, and I'll have Cloud."

"Daine…" Numair began frustratedly, but stopped himself as understanding crossed his face. "The past never stays in the past, does it?"

The young woman nodded in agreement. "It's fair strange…If this had been anywhere else in the world, I don't think it would have ever crossed my mind that you weren't being faithful. Here, I can tell myself I'm not mad or fatherless or worthless anymore, but part of me wouldn't blame you if you did want someone else."

"Daine—"

"You deserve someone who trusts you, Numair," she interrupted. "After all these years together, I still leapt on the first chance I had to doubt you. How can I tell myself I'm good enough for you if I'd do something like that?"

Numair took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something. Daine bit her lip; this was it; he was going to reject her once and for all.

"Daine, I've been meaning to ask you something," he began, "and I should have asked it long ago."

And then he did something entirely unexpected.

Numair got off the log that the two of them had been sitting on, and knelt in the snow in front of her. He took her hands in his large ones, and met her eyes steadily. And then he spoke.

"Veralidaine Sarrasri, would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

The tears that she had been holding back escaped. She hadn't even dared to hope for this, after all that had happened. "But…I'm not—"

"You have done nothing that I can fault you for," he told her solemnly. "If nothing else, I am not worthy of you."

Daine sniffled a little, but was more confused than sad. How could she be sad any more? It was an impossibility. "But why? They always said...no respectable man would ever want to marry me."

"Ah, but you forget, Magelet," Numair told her, an impish grin crossing his face. "I'm no respectable man." Daine laughed and embraced him, still puzzled as to why he would want her of all people, but ready to accept it as a question she might never know the answer to.

"Am I to take that as a yes?" he wanted to know, smiling childishly. Daine laughed again and kissed him for her answer. When they were done, both were breathless. "I suppose so," Numair answered his own question.

"Now, we'll need to pack," he informed her. Daine found herself being picked up, and squeaked in surprise. "After all, we'll want to tell Jon and Alanna and Onua the good news in person."

Daine just smiled and snuggled happily into the mage's chest. Perhaps something good had come of going to Snowsdale after all.

The End...

...For Now