Hal woke up covered in a thin layer of sweat, restless and uneasy from a dream she couldn't remember. The room felt uncomfortably hot, a sign of the growing summer months. Even though it was warm year-round, the high levels of humidity grew worse during this time of year. She stretched, annoyed that she had wasted good water bathing and already felt gross.

She turned so that the soles of her feet were planted on the cool, dirt ground, rolling her shoulders to loosen them up. She probably could've returned to her cot by now. Especially after sounding off on the rider the way she had. Yet she had resounded herself to the bench once more, irritated that she still felt some level of responsibility to his well-being. Irritated that she was still concerned that he could still take a turn for the worse if she got too lax in her care.

Her eyes darted over to where he slept, and she was happy that he was at least sleeping through the nights more and more. No more waking her up in a pain or feverish frenzy. The first two weeks had been hellish. And one night, he had been so horrible that she had dreadfully wished he would just die and put them both out of such misery. And then the dragon had crooned so sadly — and Hal had forgotten that someone was dependent on this man's survival — that she had hardly left his side since. Not to mention how guilty she had felt for such a horrible thought, despite his crimes.

She padded carefully around the hut, not wanting to wake anyone. She refilled the bowl she kept for the rider with cool water from the river that ran behind the hut, using it to place a cool rag on his forehead so that he didn't overheat in the night.

Hal couldn't help but admire her handiwork. Just a few short weeks ago, he had been near death, pale as the sheets she washed, his skin burning from fevers that seemed to appear faster than she could catch, and wounds that no one should've been able to survive. And while part of his recovery was due to his use of magic, she still took credit for the color in his cheeks and his smooth, even breaths. She had never had to operate on anyone to the extent that she had with him, and hoped she never would again. But she was proud of saving this man's life, even if he was ungrateful for it.

Awake for an undetermined amount of time, Hal strode to the window in the hopes of catching a cool breeze. She planted her elbows on the sill, resting her chin in her hand as she gazed out into the small array of huts, staring at what remained of the hut Thorn had destroyed. They hadn't yet been able to start rebuilding as they continued to salvage what items and possessions they could before it was all cleared away, but there were talks that they hoped to start soon. It would take months to accomplish though, just as Tena had claimed, and it was a grueling process.

Hal blinked just as some dark shadow seemed to move just out of her peripheral vision. She jumped back in surprise, confused if she had seen anything at all. But she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, her instincts kicking in. She hurried and grabbed the dagger she slept with under her pillow, feeling comforted by the cool handle in her palm. She returned to the window, this time standing just out of sight, peering out with trepidation and concern.

Everything seemed normal. Yet she couldn't help but wonder if it was a lovuk. They had been increasingly active the last few months, unusually so. They typically stayed away from the villages on the island, but even the neighboring one several miles south had contacted them with the same concerns. Something was wrong on her island, that much she knew. However, she had been unable to presume her search since rescuing the rider.

"What's wrong?"

Hal hated to say it, but she almost screamed in surprise. And she was hardly ever surprised. But the rider had made no noise, and she had been so focused on what may or may not have been outside that she didn't even realize his breathing had shifted. She spun around, tightening her grip on her weapon with one hand and backing away, clutching her chest in surprise until her mind forced her body to calm down.

Annoyed at being caught off guard, Hal shot him a dark look that he probably couldn't see in the shadows. But she hoped he felt it anyway. When she had relaxed, she lowered both arms and returned to her spot by the window. "It's nothing…just a feeling."

"Must be a strong feeling if it's got you and Thorn worked up."

She looked at him with surprise, forgetting her momentary anger. "Thorn saw it?"

"Saw what? No, he just said he sensed something was off, woke me up when he heard you moving around. What did you see?"

Hal looked back out the window. "I don't know. A shadow, perhaps. It moved quickly, I'm not even sure I saw anything. But we've been having issues with lovuk lately, I wasn't sure…"

"Lovuk?"

"They're like giant wolves. But their fur is brown, shorter. And they're fast. Dangerously so. When I brought you here my biggest fear was that the smell of blood would bring them out. I'm still surprised it didn't, although I certainly don't wish for such a nuisance."

"And what kind of issues have they been causing?"

She looked back at the rider, unsure why she felt such unease at his line of questioning. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

If her curt response bothered him, he didn't say so. Instead he said, "Thank you for the cool rag."

For some reason, that embarrassed her. She swallowed her nerves, refusing to look at him. "It's a hot night. We need to make sure it doesn't affect your overall health."

"Of course."

The silence that fell between them became tense. His voice had been polite, surprised even, by her gesture. She wasn't sure if he was just incapable of saying 'thank you' but his tone was the closest she would get to such formalities.

"If you sleep with the dagger because of me, I understand. But despite my earlier outburst, I have no intention of harming you or your village. I spoke crassly and inhumanely. But the fact remains that you saved my life. I wouldn't do you or your people such a disservice, and I shouldn't have implied that I would."

Now she turned to look at him, surprised by such a pretty speech. His voice seemed sincere, and his gaze held hers to make sure that she would not doubt him or his words. She looked back out, gazing up at the starry night. "I do not sleep with this dagger because of you. I've always slept with it. But your words mean much to hear."

She saw his shoulders relax some out of the corner of her eyes and she felt her posture loosen in kind. They didn't talk again, and the rider soon drifted back to sleep. Hal maintained her spot against the wall, split between watching him and watching out for whatever had been moving around outside. But after the rider's comment about Thorn sensing something, she felt a bit more at ease. But she didn't move, didn't return to her spot on the bench, until first light finally broke whatever trepidation the dark night had held over her.

…

"Do it."

"No, you do it."

"Go on, Layla, you do it!"

Murtagh opened a bleary eye, disgruntled after being woken from an already fitful sleep. But he paused when he saw three young girls peering at him from the window. They shrieked in surprise at being caught, ducking down out of his line of sight in a fit of giggles. Suddenly anxious, Murtagh carefully sat up, the rag Hal had placed on his forehead falling into his lap, growing stiff with dryness. Halen had been gone a while, it seemed. One girl stood straight once more, gripping the edge of the window to keep herself up high enough to see inside.

"Layla, is he still staring?" Another girl asked, struggling to lift her head back up over the wall. From what he could tell, she couldn't have been older than five.

"Shhh, he'll hear you," the girl, he presumed Layla, said quickly.

Now Murtagh raised his brow, unsure of what to say or do. So he did nothing as they whispered in hushed voices, debating who would talk to him first.

"This was your idea, Layla," said a slightly older, more authoritative voice. "Hurry, before Hal comes back and we get into trouble!"

"Fine, you big babies."

A pair of wide, brown eyes caught his gaze. The girl looked to be about seven or so, but she boldly clamored up until she was holding her body up by resting her forearms on the dirt sill. "Hi," she chimed in, appearing more self-assured than she had moments before.

"…Hello?" he said slowly, wary of how hard his voice sounded in the presence of a child.

She blinked, staring at him with a slight tilt of her head that, strangely enough, reminded him of Halen. She got the same inquisitive look when she was studying him, as if trying to read him. "You don't look scary," the girl said.

"Doesn't mean I'm not."

"Hal says you're not scary. But Hal's not scared of anything."

He could hear the affection in the girl's voice. "Is Halen your older sister?"

"I wish. I only have a dumb older brother instead." She readjusted herself on the sill then stared at him with determination. "Hal says you can't do anymore magic after you healed your dragon. Did you use it all up?"

He found his lips twitching at the question. "No, but it makes me very weak to use it right now."

"Then you have to wait until you're stronger?"

"Yes, exactly."

She seemed to ponder this for a moment. "So how strong are you then?"

His expression became tight. "Not as strong as I used to be."

"Is that when you served the evil king?" He gave her such a surprised expression, but she only shrugged. "The adults here talk a lot."

So it would seem. "I'm sure the adults wouldn't like you talking to me."

"You talk to Hal."

"Hal's an adult." And he wouldn't exactly call what they had "talking."

She pouted, stumped. "She's already brainwashed you."

"I told you she would," said one of the other girls in a not-so-hushed tone.

"Brainwashed me?"

"She never lets us do anything because she says we're too young."

"And yet you still have nasty habit of going behind my back anyway."

Even Murtagh jumped in surprise as the girls looked behind them. He couldn't see Halen, but they let out a collective gasp of surprise before screaming, running off before Halen could physically catch them. Yet, when she appeared in the window, she didn't seem upset. On the contrary, she looked positively radiant compared to last night. She rested her chin in her hand, her expression soft as she gazed at him. "They didn't wake you, did they?"

"No," he lied. He hesitated, then decided to go for it. "You seem to be in a good mood."

"How perceptive of you," she said. "I went for a ride this morning, needed to clear my head. Found the perfect herd of wild boar for Thorn which he is currently hunting." Murtagh watched, confused and amused, as she began to climb through the window, rather than break up her spiel by going through a perfectly good door. "He's absolutely stunning rider. I can't believe I didn't notice it before, but absolutely beautiful. Anyway…" She dropped down, then turned back out the window and picked up a basket of various fruits and berries. "I picked these while I was out. Perfectly ripe. It's like the heavens knew I needed this."

She certainly was animated, and it cast a completely different aura around her. She seemed less closed-off, lighter. But he could still see the bags under her eyes and knew that she hadn't slept through the night.

"Have you eaten yet?" she asked, setting the basket down on the table. "Would you like some?"

"Yes, thank you."

She paused, looking at him in surprise. She opened her mouth then seemed to think better of whatever it was she was going to say. Instead, she gave him a soft smile and said, "You're welcome."

She let him eat in peace after giving him leftover bread from earlier. However, because he was healing well, she had thrown in a few pieces of bacon which he devoured on sight. Finally, real meat. She had been cautious, rightly so, serving him nothing but soft foods that would easily be digested. But as he regained his strength, he needed something with sustenance. He hoped there would be more to come by lunch and supper.

By the time Halen reappeared, she had cleaned up and changed out of the fitted trousers and tunic, and into her usual attire of loosely fitted, ankle-length skirts. She grabbed a pear out of the basket and bit into it, dropping down across from him with obvious exhaustion. "Are your wounds almost healed," she said, swallowing, gesturing to his torso with her head.

"Almost. The worst is behind me, but I'm trying to take it easy so that I don't overdo it," he avoided looking at her, but could already imagine her self-satisfied smirk. "Should be a few more days now, and you'll find yourself with one less burden."

She snorted. "You're not a burden, rider. An ass, perhaps. But it's not like you asked for this, and I made a choice to help."

"And it's as simple as that?"

"Why does it have to be difficult?" Then she tilted her head like she always did, and he knew without a doubt that the girl in the window from before was mimicking Halen's mannerisms. "Because of who you are?" When he didn't respond, she took that as affirmation and she took another bit of her fruit, chewing thoughtfully. "I wouldn't be so full of yourself, rider. You're not that important."

"And you think I'm the ass?"

"Without a doubt," she replied calmly, not firing back at him like he expected. "Because your inflated sense of self has still refused to actually thank me for saving your life and caring for you these past few weeks, and yet you equate yourself to being my personal burden when I knew full well what saving your life would entail. I knew exactly what I was doing and you have no right to suggest otherwise, intentionally or not."

"I was trying to be empathetic. I can see how tired you are and I know how much you have done for me."

"Then. Just. Say. So. Instead of trying to empathize by indulging in self-deprecating speech."

He realized what she was doing, and he was regretting ever engaging her in conversation. She raised her brows at him, and he gritted his teeth, realizing that she would get what she wanted either way. He would either prove her right by refusing to thank her, or she would get his forced gratitude. And the thought of her being proven right made his skin itch.

"Thank you," he said, his voice tight.

"Are you even human?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"You're the one being stubborn about a simple 'thank you.' Did you rather I leave you to die?" When he didn't respond, she simply shook her head, rising to her feet. "You have issues, rider, that much is certain. Keep your 'thanks,' I don't need it. And it certainly does me no good if I have to force it out of you. I didn't do this for your appreciation, so I suppose it is futile of me to demand it. And for that, I apologize."

Her departure was swift, her eyes cold. His satisfaction was short-lived, however, with the emptiness she left behind. She hadn't been wrong about him, and that's what had caused him to act so harshly towards her. She told him things that he knew, but didn't want to hear. And he resented her for it. Especially since she apparently had assessed such truths in a matter of mere weeks, watching him and studying the tones he used when he spoke, which unnerved and impressed him.

There was a soft knock on the door and Murtagh turned his head in surprise as the old man, Denu, appeared in the room. The man never came to visit him.

"Do you mind if I enter?"

Murtagh sighed, not wanting the company at the moment. "It's your hut, do as you see fit."

The man mumbled his thanks, closing the door behind him. When he straightened up, he said, "Halen seemed to be in another foul mood so I figured I would come and check on you."

Murtagh didn't respond to the man's attempt at humor.

Denu sighed, hesitating for just a moment before taking a seat on the bench where Halen usually slept. "I know it's not my place to defend her. Oftentimes if someone is cross with Halen, it is because she is a little too blunt at times. I doubt she is any different with you."

He still didn't speak, but he also couldn't help but listen.

"But I think my transgressions towards you have reflected poorly on her. And so, I humbly come to you to clarify: at no point has Halen bore you ill will because of your past. The conversation you overheard, my comment about the villages, those were my opinions only. Halen has been quite protective of you, and she has received much grief for it."

"I doubt she would want you here fighting her battles for her," Murtagh chastised, hoping it would signal to the man that he did not wish to continue this conversation.

"And you would be right. But I am here regardless to ask that you do not taking your frustrations out on the one person who is actually trying to be on your side in all of this." Murtagh's jaw tightened. "Acknowledging all she has done for you would not hurt either."

When Murtagh didn't immediately respond, Denu nodded his head as if he had said all he had come in to say. "She means well. Truly, rider. Just…if you two speak again, try and give her the benefit of the doubt."

"I will if she does."

At that, Denu chuckled. "Fair enough."