A/N: Yay! New chappie! This one's named after my favorite playwright.

Rebecca's POV

I dreamed of him that night. I dreamed Anna was alive, that we were happy together. I was forced to open my eyes to reality all too soon.

After getting dressed, I walked to the kitchens and brought a loaf of bread and some jam back to my room with me. I was going to drive myself crazy with all this free time I had to remember.

Flashback

Murtagh and I sat against the walls of an old, mostly deserted hallway, facing each other, with our legs stretched out almost all the way to the other side.

"I wish it weren't raining," I sighed.

"You aren't the only one."

"Of all the days for it could have rained, it had to be today." I leaned my head back against the wall. Stupid storm.

"I'm sorry, Becca," said Murtagh. "But happy birthday."

"Thanks." I folded my arms and sighed again, staring at my feet.

"Stop!" he said a moment later.

I looked up at him. "What?"

"Stop going on like that. It's your birthday. We should be happy. You especially." He crawled across the little hallway to sit besides me. "Now then. I wasn't sure what you wanted, so just tell me and it's yours."

"I don't want you to get me anything." I blushed.

"But I want to get you something. Please?"

"I don't want anything, though. I already have everything I want or need." And I felt slightly guilty about him getting me something, too. I wasn't very good at accepting gifts. The dress my mother had made me (that I happened to be wearing) was more than enough, and it didn't even fit. The sleeves were too long, and the neckline was far too low. I had to readjust it every couple of minutes, it made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Becca, don't be difficult." He stood, then pulled me to my feet as well. "Please?"

"I told you, I don't-" He took a step forward. His sudden closeness surprised me, and I backed up.

"There has to be something." He took another step forward, and placed one hand on either side of my head, pinning me to the wall.

"N-no," I stuttered.

He touched his warm lips to the base of my throat. "Rebecca."

"I – I don't-" His nose drew a line up the skin of my throat to the point of my chin. I could feel his breath on my neck. I closed my eyes.

"Come now, there must be something," he whispered against my jaw.

"I don't want any presents."

"Your mother gave you this dress." He lifted his face to kiss my eyelids.

"That's different."

"How so?" I could feel his smile against my cheek.

"It – uh – it doesn't fit."

He removed one hand from the wall and ran a finger mischievously along the too-low neckline where my skin met the fabric. "I think it suits you fine."

"I still don't – don't want anything from you."

He took his hand and instead of putting it back against the wall placed it at the nape of my neck, pulling us closer together. "Please?" He kissed slowly down my cheek, stopping just at the corner of my mouth. "Tell me. What do you want more than anything else in the world?" His mouth barely brushed against my trembling lower lip.

"You," I gasped, without hesitating.

He pulled back a little. "Me? But you already have-" He stopped, then smiled. "Me," he repeated. "Alright then."

He took my face in his hands almost roughly, and kissed me, his unyielding lips moving against mine. My heart was beating swiftly, so loudly I was sure he could hear it. One of my hands reached up and traced the perfect features of his face.

He pulled away from my lips for a moment, leaving me gasping for air. His lips traced along my jaw line. I shuddered, then reached with the hand I had been tracing his face with and took one of his hands. I twisted my head slightly to kiss his palm, then the inside of his wrist.

He took that hand out of my grasp and gently rubbed it along my shoulder and neck. He pulled the sleeve down gently, uncovering my shoulder. His lips moved quickly to the exposed skin. I felt dizzy; I wondered briefly if I had forgotten to breathe.

He kissed every bit of available skin, and finally his lips met mine again.

"Come," he whispered, pulling back.

"What?" I asked. The world was still spinning.

"Come." He took my hand and led me quickly through the castle, trying to avoid anyone else who may have been randomly wandering the corridors.

"Where-?" I started.

He stopped, turned to me, and put a finger to my lips. "Shhh." He leaned down and kissed me briefly on the forehead.

I followed him through the rest of the castle to the door of his bedroom. He leaned down and kissed me passionately once more before we went inside, and he locked the door behind us.

---

I could hear the rain tapping gently on the roof and walls of the castle when I woke. I stretched and rolled over. It took me a moment to realize that in my own bed at home I would have fallen off when I rolled, it was much smaller than this one. And I was far too comfortable and warm.

I rolled back over, trying to figure out where I was.

"I'm sorry," he murmured so softly I almost didn't hear him. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Memories of last night came rushing back. I smiled. I reached out for him, found his hands in the darkness, and pulled myself closer. His arms encircled me, cradling me to his chest. My lips searched, hunting along his throat, to his chin, till finally I found his mouth.

Murtagh kissed me softly for a moment, then laughed quietly. "I was afraid you'd be scared, or angry, or hurt. That maybe I had taken advantage of you last night. That maybe it wasn't…fair, or right, or-"

"Of course not." I kissed him again.

"Good," he whispered against my lips. His arms held me tighter, pulling me even closer to him. His skin felt warm against mine.

One of his hands curved around my elbow, moving slowly down my arm, across my ribs and over my waist, tracing along my hip and down my leg. He paused for a moment, his hand curling around my thigh. Then he pulled my leg up, hitching it around his hip.

I stopped breathing. Despite the cold of the rest of the room, I felt suddenly hot. His lips brushed against the base of my throat. "I love you, Rebecca."

Before I could pull myself together enough to reply, he rolled to the side, pulling me on top of him. He held my face in his hands, angling it up so that his lips and tongue could reach my throat. My breathing was so loud it was almost embarrassing, but I didn't care quite enough to be ashamed.

"So, you're happy right now, then?" he asked.

"I – I'm always happy when I'm with you," I managed to gasp.

"Sore at all?" he teased. He hadn't been exactly gentle with me last night, and he knew it. I felt his lips against my ear. I shivered.

"A little, but I'll – I'll live."

He pulled my face back to his, and my lips shaped themselves around his own. Slowly, he rolled till he hovered over me. He held himself carefully so that I felt none of his weight, but I could feel his hard body pressing against my own softer one. My heart was hammering so loudly that that it was hard to hear him speak.

"I love you," he whispered again. His tongue traced the shape of my lips.

I let out a little sigh, and closed my eyes. He pulled away for a moment, then brought his lips back down to mine.

"Master Murtagh! Are you there?" Someone was banging on the door.

He looked up toward it, surprised, and slightly annoyed. "Yes."

"Tornac needs to speak with you. He says it's important."

"He does?"

"Yes. Er, should I come in, or will that be all?"

"You may go. Thank you." We heard footsteps die away in the hallway.

Murtagh groaned a little, then rolled off. "I should be going."

"Now?" I asked.

"Most likely. Tornac isn't a very patient man." He sat up in the bed, then slid out and pulled on some of his clothes. He began to hunt around the room for the rest of them.

I sat up as well, pulling the blanket up with me so it covered everything below my shoulders. "When will you be back?"

"I'm not sure. Do you need to be anywhere?"

"Not really."

"Alright then." He got down on the ground and looked under the bed. "Have you seen my shirt?"

I shook my head.

He cursed briefly and stood. He turned to me. "You can go back to sleep now, if you want."

I shook my head again. "No, I'm awake." I climbed out of bed, the blanket still wrapped around me, and began the hunt for my own clothes as well. He watched me, a small smile on his face.

"Here's your shirt," I said, finding it under a chair. I threw it at him. He put it on. "Do you mind?" I asked once I had found all my clothes.

"What?"

"Turn around."

"What? Becca, there's nothing I haven't seen, after last-"

"I know. Turn around anyway."

He rolled his eyes, but obeyed.

"There," I said after I was dressed. I walked over to him. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" I teased.

He took my face between his hands, and leaned forward to kiss me.

"Murtagh!" The messenger was outside the door again.

He stopped, inches from my face. "What is it now?"

"Tornac had something come up, and he says he'll meet you in an hour, down at the training fields, rain or shine."

"Alright." He rolled his eyes.

"An hour isn't that soon." I stood on tiptoe to reach up and kiss him. He sighed. "I should be getting ready for…for nothing really, I guess. For the day," I whispered. I turned to search the room for a brush.

He came up from behind and swept me off my feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Come here." He sat me down on the bed.

"Murtagh, he said Tornac was meeting you in just an hour, do you really think-"

"Shhh. I know. It's not that. Just…let me brush your hair for you."

"What?" I had always felt safe when I was with him, but suddenly felt a little panicked.

"It'll be fine. I want to try something. Hand me the brush in the drawer of that nightstand." He sat behind me.

Cautiously, I handed it over. "There's really nothing to worry about, Becca."

"We'll see."

He was gentle, running it through my hair slowly and carefully. It felt good. I had always loved having my hair done when I was younger, but as I grew I started just brushing it out myself. I closed my eyes. "That feels nice…"

"See?"

"Fine. You were right and I was wrong. For once." He laughed and continued brushing my hair.

"What do you think Tornac wants?"

"Besides to ruin my life? I don't know."

"I'm serious."

He put the brush down and ran his fingers gently through my hair. "He might send me away for a while," he admitted. "He's made sure I've been trained well. He might test me, see how well I can control troops, travel, etc."

"What?" I turned back to look at him.

"It's possible. Turn you're head, I'm not finished." I turned back. He began braiding my curly, normally impossible to manage hair.

"I don't want you to go away," I said childishly.

"Don't worry." He finished braiding it. "Lovely." He kissed the top of my head.

I turned back around to sit on the bed and face him. "Are you sure?"

"Rebecca," he laughed, and leaned forward. "It's alright. I'll be back."

"You'll never leave me, right? I mean, for good?"

"I love you," he whispered, his lips barely brushing against mine. "I will never leave you."

End of Flashback

In the end, he had though, hadn't he? Just a month or two after that night, when I got pregnant with Anna. He had broken his promise. He had done a lot to me. He had left me broken, destroyed, with nobody but myself to try to pick up the pieces. Well, nobody but Anna and myself. I expected things to get harder when she was born, and they did, but they also got easier in a way. Life was more bearable.

Flashback

At the end of the day, I waited for Murtagh in his room. He walked in slowly, looking tired and slightly ill.

"What's wrong?"

"The King has…he's changed."

"Here, sit down." I walked over to the bed with him and we both sat. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember a month or two ago on my seventeenth birthday, when I met him for the first time? Then, he was charming. He painted a beautiful picture of all of Alagaesia for me, he had me convinced that I wanted to follow him, wherever he went, whatever he did. But now, all he can do is scream and yell and curse."

"About what?"

"The Varden's burned down three bridges in the south. He wants me to take a detachment of troops and destroy Cantos."

"That's horrible!"

"I know." He didn't look at me, he just sat there and stared at his hands.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure." I could tell he was lying.

"You mean, you just don't want to tell me."

He finally looked up at me. "No, of course not Rebecca, I just-"

"It's alright." I smiled halfheartedly.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"So…are you feeling any better?"

"A little. I didn't throw up that much this morning."

"Good. Did you eat anything?"

"Yeah, a lot actually."

"Good." We sat in silence for a while, until we heard a knock on the door.

Murtagh stood and walked quickly across the room to answer it. He opened it just a crack. He and the person outside the room whispered for a moment, then he nodded, shut the door, and sat back down next to me.

"What was that about?"

"I can't tell you."

"Yes, you can."

"No, I really can't. I've sworn in the Ancient Language I won't tell a soul."

"Very well then."

"Overall, I guess this hasn't been one of your better birthdays?"

"Not particularly." It was silent again.

This wasn't like Murtagh. Not at all. He was always so full of energy, so passionate, so…so talkative and mischievous. I reached out slowly, and gently touched his hand. To my surprised, he didn't pull away, but rather squeezed mine back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?"

"I'm a liar."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say.

Someone knocked on the door again, five times, once fast, three slow, the last one fast again. A signal.

"Rebecca," he was urgent now, scared, his eyes wide. "I love you."

I was confused. "I love you t-"

He seized my face between his hands, and kissed me with a hunger not far from violence. His lips were hot and urgent against mine, I didn't know how to respond. So I just sat there, motionless, as he kissed me again…a third time…a fourth….a fifth. His lips and hands were rough against my soft mouth and skin.

He pulled away. "I love you," he repeated, looking me in the eye. I nodded. Then he stood and left the room.

I sat on his bed, alone for a long time, trying to make sense of what had happened. Eventually as the darkness fell over the castle and day turned into night, I heard the clashing of metal on metal and shouts from outside and went to the window to investigate.

In the dim glow of lantern light, I could barely make out two figures fighting against several others. I squinted, trying to get a better look and possibly identify who they were.

No.

Murtagh was one of them, fighting along side a man who had to be Tornac. Grief clawed at me, ripped me into shreds. Tornac fell. I heard Murtagh's scream, and saw him whip his blade around, killing, stabbing, and blocking faster, given strength by his rage and his pain.

I couldn't look away. One soldier fell, and then another. He did not kill them all, but eventually he broke free, riding away from the castle. Away from me.

Tears fell fast and freely. I backed up from the window and collapsed on the bed. He was gone. Forever. I was never going to see him again.

Gone.

End of Flashback

He had left. But he had come back. If love was worth living for, was it worth dying for? Was it worth all the grief and pain and hurt? I still didn't know if Murtagh was worth living for. But Anna certainly was.

Flashback

"Good girl," said Elsie, the midwife, as she dabbed at my forehead with a wet cloth. She leaned down and kissed my forehead. "I'm proud of you."

I was too tired to respond. I just nodded, breathing heavily, and looked up at where the other woman, Rosa, was. She was holding a little bundle she had wrapped up in a white blanket, and was rocking it gently. The bundle was crying.

"You want to see your mama, don't you?" she asked. "Alright. Here you go." She walked across the room and held it out to me.

I suppose I must have looked scared for a minute, because Rosa whispered, "It's alright, don't be frightened. She's a beautiful, healthy little girl."

Slowly, I reached out and took the baby from her hands. I cradled her in my arms. "It's alright," I whispered. "You don't have to cry. You're safe, I've got you. I will never let anything bad happen to you." I laughed a little, tears streaming down my face. "It's a little scary out here, isn't it? It's a big world. But don't worry, I'll keep you safe and happy." I kissed her on the tip of her nose.

She looked like her father. I wished he was here to see that. She had hair, black and curly, and she was pale, though her cheeks were red. Her blue eyes looked exactly like his, like deep, crystal pools of liquid sapphire. I suddenly realized what day it was. She and Murtagh shared the same birthday. He would be eighteen today. If only he were here.

"She's hungry," said Elsie.

I looked up at her. "Um, I'm not really sure how…"

"Well, I'm certainly not!" she laughed. She was right, she was even younger than me.

"I've had six children," said Rosa. "Here." She helped me arrange my baby against my chest.

"She's beautiful," commented Elsie. "She really is."

"Thank you."

"What's her name?"

"I don't...Annabelle." I named her after a beautiful princess in one of the old stories I used to read. The princess had always been lucky and happy and lived happily ever after with her true love. I wished luck and happiness and love upon my little girl. In the story she was also kind, and gentle, and clever. I wished that upon my baby as well. And Murtagh had commented once that he liked the name, though I couldn't remember when or why. I liked it too.

"Annabelle. Beautiful."

Suddenly the tears were falling again. "Look what I brought into this world," I said. "Look at her. She's so beautiful, innocent, pure. I did that."

"Yes you did," said Rosa.

"You were right. It was all worth it in the end." Yes, labor had been long and painful and hard. But now this, this beautiful little girl, had been the result of nine months of waiting and over four hours of pain. "My little girl," I whispered to myself. "My baby. My Annabelle. I'm her mother." Mother. I had never really liked the word, my own mother and I hadn't been best of friends. But now it took on a whole new meaning, it was special, sacred, beautiful.

Anna finished eating and fell asleep. I rocked her and held her close.

"You should get some rest too," said Rosa.

"Yes, you really should. You deserve it."

I looked down at my baby.

"I'll put her in the cradle. There's nothing to worry about, you're tired and sore and you need to sleep. She'll still be here when you wake."

I nodded. "Thank you." I drifted off to my dreams.

End of Flashback

Rosa and Elsie had been so kind to me. Eventually I had left, I'd gone to more or less live off the streets with my baby. They sent me with blankets and money, even though I told them I would never be able to repay them. I had slept on the streets for a while, then gotten work at the Inn. They didn't pay me much, but they fed me and gave Anna and I a place to live. So many people in this world had been kind to me. It almost wasn't fair to them for me to think about killing myself.

Elsie had been worth living for. Rosa had been worth living for. Everyone who had been kind to me at the Inn was worth it, Anna was worth it. Murtagh was worth it.

So that was it then. Suicide was no longer an option. There was too much for me in this life. Too much worth living for.

A/N: Yeah. I wasn't sure about the ending on this one, but I sort of wanted to just wrap it up. Hey! That chapter was long too! Don't get used to it though.

Also, I know that as far as ages and whatnot go, I'm not really following the book. But does a year in either direction really matter? I'm trying to keep everything making sense as far as the books and this story, but it's hard so sorry if I mess up. I give you permission to rant.

Oh yes, and I know the flashbacks weren't really in order (well, in this chapter they were, but in the other one they weren't and all together they aren't) so…yeah. I hope it wasn't too confusing.

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