"You could've ridden on Thorn," Hal said, finally caving and breaking the silence. "I truly didn't mind."

"You said something spooked Nani enough for her to toss you from the saddle. I won't leave you on your own."

Hal shot him a grateful smile. They walked in silence, looking for a place to settle down for the time being and get their bearings. Murtagh had refused to leave her side, insisting on walking beside her. And they walked mainly in a cool silence, not quite tense, but not quite comfortable either.

Fiddling with the string of her bow, Hal asked, "How are you feeling? Truly? I know your full strength has not returned to you in a week's time."

"I'm managing," was all he said. When he caught her eye, and saw that her concern was genuine, he added, "I don't move as quickly as I would like. My body still feels worn from lack of use, on top of the damage done to it. It will be a while before I am fully recovered, I fear."

"Lack of use?"

He stared straight ahead. "I admit…I haven't stayed in shape like I once was. And since I haven't had to use so much magic, even the smallest of spells can tire me if Thorn is not helping me."

"Why haven't you been practicing? That seems pretty crucial."

He looked uncomfortable, and Hal realized that perhaps she was pressing for more information than she deserved to know. "How about we just stop here for now?" She paused, glancing at the area around them. "There's not much in terms of cover, but we should be fine to make camp here for tonight. What do you say?"

He glanced at her, appreciative. "I think here will work."

This time, Murtagh hunted their dinner while Hal started the fire. There were enough dry leaves and branches to keep it going for days on end, and the flames were already growing as Murtagh returned with two decent-sized birds.

"Thank you," he said, returning her bow and arrow to her.

"Not at all. I didn't know you could hunt."

"You think I'm just a useless sack of skin performing magic tricks?" His tone was teasing.

"Yeah, something like that," she said with a grin. He sat across from her, and Hal watched him as he defeathered the birds, plucking them diligently. Not once did they speak as he prepared dinner, nor did they speak while the meat cooked, or while they ate. Hal knew Murtagh was watching her as much as she was watching him. There were moments where neither of them even tried to hide it. For Hal, it felt different than how he would watch her back at the hut, as though she were someone else. Now, it was as though he were beginning to see her for the first time. As if something about her didn't make sense.

She got that a lot.

Well fed, Hal leaned forward, nudging the fire that she had made to keep it cackling. She could feel herself growing tired, but she knew she wasn't quite ready to sleep yet.

"If I answer your question, will you answer one of mine?"

She looked across at Murtagh through the fire, seeing how the light would dance in his sad eyes. She glanced down. "I suppose that's fair," she said slowly, weighing the odds and deciding her curiosity just barely won out over her need for privacy. Although she was sure he wouldn't push her for any answers she wasn't willing to give, just like she would show him the same courtesy.

Thorn watched them with tired eyes, taking a deep breath before yawning. Hal waited patiently until Murtagh finally spoke. "I became too dependable on my magic," he said in a low voice. "When I became a dragon rider, when I finally accepted it, my power…I was too angry then. I used it to do things that, under different circumstances, I wouldn't have. So, after Galbatorix was defeated, I didn't trust myself to use it. I slacked off. Got lazy. Focused on trying to survive through normal, human means and regain a sense of who I used to be. Who I thought I was."

Hal was stunned, not having expected such a heavy answer. She was about to fire off another question when she quickly remembered their deal. She gave a slight nod to show she was ready and he smiled, but it didn't last long. "Is anyone in the village kin?"

She licked her lips. "No. It's just me. Denu took me in when I was ten. I'm actually from another village; I'm not even from Illium." She wasn't sure why she offered the small bit of additional information, but she forced herself not to dwell on it. "Did you regain your sense of who you were? Did you find what you were looking for when you cut yourself off from magic and society?"

"If anything, I feel more lost now than I did five years ago. I don't know how, but I do." It was such a hard thing to admit, she knew, feeling lost. And Hal could not help but study him with a newfound respect. Even if his confession made her chest ache in grief for him in a way she had not expected. Murtagh did not seem to notice, and Hal made sure to compose her face before he did. He seemed to think carefully for a moment before asking his next question. "What really happened when Nani bucked you from the saddle?"

Hal's shoulders slumped, quietly relieved he had not followed-up on his previous question. "I know it might sound crazy but, it was as if the world had gone still. There was this silence, where I couldn't hear anything except my own breathing. And there was this strange presence, like something had been pulling on me. But it all vanished the moment you appeared, and now I'm not even sure it truly happened."

He must've gotten all the answer he needed because he nodded his head, and looked to her for her next question. Hal breathed. "The things you stand accused of doing — serving Galbatorix, leading his army, killing a dwarf king and another rider — are they true?"

The emotions that flickered across his eyes were many and few. Regret, pain, humiliation, rage. And then nothing, a mask, to hide it all from the world. However, he didn't look away, didn't hide his face from her as he said, "Yes." She swallowed. "Does that frighten you?"

She sniffed, unsure of why she was trying not to cry. Surely a man like him didn't deserve her tears. And yet…

"Yes," she admitted softly. "But mainly, it hurts more than I thought it would. I guess part of me hoped you would be a different Murtagh Morzanson with a red dragon."

He snorted.

"You carry yourself differently than I would expect someone with your past to. I can't picture the man you claim to be with the man I see before me. Which is a good thing, at least for me. Denial, and all of that. And yet…"

"I know," he said, his voice quiet. "Trust me, I know."

She bit her lip. "Do you…do you regret any of it?"

His fingers tightened into fists at his side, but otherwise he didn't show any indication that the question perturbed him. "Yes and no. I do not regret Thorn, and I do not regret my powers. I do regret how I used them, how he was used." He glanced over at Thorn and his expression was so heartbreaking that Hal had to look away. She stared into the fire. "Do I…do I…frighten you?"

What he was asking was no small thing, they both knew. Could she separate the man from his actions? She looked at him then, studied him. Part of his face was obscured by that awful beard, but his eyes were all she needed to see. She gave him a sad smile. "No," she admitted truthfully. "No, you do not frighten me. But I have seen you naked so that may be why?"

His expression quickly changed to one of disbelief and bewilderment, the tips of his ears going red. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Absolutely nothing, rider. That's what makes it funny," she teased with a straight face, going back to poking the fire.

He looked so absolutely mortified that Hal could not help but laugh at him. "I'm sorry, I should not tease. But Denu and Mennes were there the entire time, I promise."

"I don't know if that's much better."

He was too embarrassed to smile, but the mood shifted to something less heavy, which Hal was thankful for.

"We should get some rest," Murtagh finally grumbled, still avoiding her gaze as he settled into Thorn. Hal chuckled, preparing to roll over in the grass when Murtagh suddenly spoke out again. "Do you…?" He seemed flustered as she rolled over, looking at him over her shoulder. "You can lean up against Thorn if you'd like, since Nani ran off with your things. You can use my bag if you want."

Part of her wanted to refuse to be polite. It wasn't his fault her dumb horse had left. And yet, Hal found herself climbing to her feet, moving carefully around the fire until she was pressed up against Thorn's stomach, grateful for the offer. It was warmer than she expected, and even though the night wasn't cold, there was something comforting about the added heat, like a gentle blanket.

Murtagh passed her his pack that she laid out beside her for a pillow. As she got comfortable, she noticed the rider had hardly moved, still sitting up and eyes trained on the fire. He must've felt her gaze because he turned his head, smiling gently at the unasked question in her eyes. "Sleep, Halen. I will wake you when it's time."

She was unsure as to why the soft command had such a hold over her. But she nodded as she dropped down, falling asleep almost immediately as soon as her head touched the bag.

…

Hal had always been a light sleeper, even more so when she was out in the woods. Even the slightest change in the wind, the barely audible crunch of a leaf, could be the difference between life or death with some of the wildlife that called Illium home. So when she heard a low grunt that certainly wasn't from her dream, her eyes flew open, listening carefully. When she heard it again, she realized it was the rider and peeked over at him.

She sat up, alarmed, when she realized that he was having what appeared to be a fit. He'd had a few under her care, and she had been so anxious about waking Denu or injuring him further to get him to calm down that she could not do much for him except stay by his side, make sure he didn't reopen his wounds, and pray it subsided soon. She not once mentioned them to him, unsure if it was something he would be comfortable with her pointing out. She had told herself that were simply a result of his injuries and subsequent fevers. Her own nightmares were always worse when she was sick.

Thorn was wide-eyed, looking at her desperately. She had no doubt the dragon had done all he could to wake his rider short of walloping him with this tail. She kneeled down beside him, dodging a flailing fist that barely missed hitting her cheek. "Rider! Rider, wake up!"

If she had a bucket of water, she'd dump it on him. But she had limited resources, and the panic-stricken expression on the rider's face made her feel like she had even less time. It was as though he were being tortured in his sleep, and she was desperate to wake him from whatever nightmare that consumed him.

She paused, her thoughts giving way to an idea. Perhaps…well it's not like she had anything else to go on. The first thing she needed to do was secure his limbs before he struck her and knocked her out. And if he was anything like she had been, she fought harder when someone tried to pin her down in her sleep.

Hal straddled his waist, putting her weight on him while holding one foot out from his body, using it to keep her position and manage any weight he threw at her should he try to buck her off. Dammit. His arms were reaching for her, recognizing that someone was trying to stop him. His face was pale, his skin waxy and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. But even worse were the tears streaming down the corner of his eyes, disappearing into his hairline. Hal inched forward until she was close enough to wrap her arm around one of his, sufficiently grabbing hold.

Heavens above, the rider was physically strong despite his claims. He nearly had her hitting herself in the face. However, Hal managed to pin his arm to his side and locked her ankle around his wrist, putting her weight back on it so that he couldn't hit her, and she wouldn't hurt him either. When she finally got his other arm under control, the bucking became worse, and it was only then that she realized that depths of the horrors he must've been enduring.

She placed her hands over his cheeks to hold his head still, her thumbs gently stroking the exposed skin. She closed her eyes, reciting the words from memory as she spoke: "Imagine that you're waking up. It's not quiet morning yet. It's dark outside, the moon and the stars are still shining in the sky…"

It was a trick that Amon and the others used on her when she was a child. Denu was too old to wrangle her in her sleep, and often sought assistance from others when her nightmares made her incredibly violent. Once, she had woken up to find she had left four horrible scratches down Cado's neck. But their voices always, eventually, broke through the madness of her mind. Their words would reach her, initially uncomfortable and out of place in her dream, that slight moment where she wasn't sure where she was. Was it a memory? No, because she recognized that voice. A dream? And once her mind realized that she was, indeed, dreaming, it was like it began to respond to the words being spoken. She sometimes came in at different parts, but it was often after the ride through the woods, once she made it to the beach. The imagery of the sun breaking over the water. The colors painted in the sky. The breeze that kissed her cheeks, the smell and taste of the salt. The story used all five senses to make her focus, to help her find a setting that gave her peace. And as she focused her senses on that imagery, on the feel of the sand under her soles, or the morning rays on her skin, she began to calm down. And then…

"Halen?"

Murtagh's voice cracked in the night, and she opened her eyes to find him wide-eyed and staring back. His eyes were red, laced with confusion and pain. There was so much hurt there. Hal breathed, relieved she hadn't butchered it. She owed Amon and the others big time. Once was exhausting, and there was a point where they were waking her up like this several times a night.

"You were having a nightmare," she said in a low voice, feeling as though anything louder would wake the forest.

He blinked a few times, as though still trying to get his bearings. And for the finishing touch…

"Look at me, rider."

He struggled with it, clearly embarrassed and confused as to why she was still sitting on him. But he finally looked at her again and she gave him a soft smile. Then she took a deep inhale through her nose, and exhaled loudly through her mouth. It wasn't until the fourth or fifth time that he finally joined in, participating rather unenthusiastically until she said, "I can sit here all night. You know I will."

His lips twitched as he fought a smile. After a few moments, she could see and feel his muscles begin to relax. She moved one hand and held it over his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow as well. When she was satisfied that he had calmed down, she released him, moving to the side so that he could have his personal space back.

"How do you feel?"

He cleared his throat. "Better." He sat up slowly. "Where did you learn that technique?"

She gave him a sad smile, one full of understanding. Her own hidden pain. "I've had my own night terrors since I was ten. They were bad. A lot like yours, actually. It was something that used to get me out of my own head, to help me relax."

He was quiet a moment, clearly still overcome with emotion from whatever he had dreamed. Unsure of what to say, Hal added, "If you want to try going back to sleep, I can keep watch for the rest of the night. I'm awake anyway."

He grimaced. "No, I don't think I'm up for it. But I'm sorry to have woken you up in the process."

"When it comes to the demons of the mind, rider, you have nothing to be sorry for. We've all been haunted by one thing or another when we close our eyes. There's no point in apologizing for something we can't control to begin with."

They sat in silence for a moment, Hal returning to her spot against Thorn. She stared at the fire, which still burned brilliantly as it had hours before. Murtagh shifted in his spot. "Your nightmares — did they ever get any easier?"

She was thoughtful for a few moments. "They lessened in terms of frequency. But in terms of impact?" She thought of the knife she slept with under her pillow. "Even after twelve years, it feels as though nothing has changed."