A/N: We are now 22 chapters in, and I just want to say thank you. To everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, and favored this story so far: thank you. I love seeing your reviews if you write them, but am just as appreciative to my silent followers. Posting every chapter is a bit of nerve-wracking experience, so I genuinely love seeing your support for this story and its characters. Thank you.

I do want to take this moment to post a content warning for a brief mention of implied sexual assault. Please proceed at your own comfort levels. I've posted a summary of what happens at the bottom of this story.

Her sister, Thea, would've turned eighteen this year.

Hal had not thought of her sister in years. Had not dared speak her name. But as she stood on the beach, steps from where she had landed with the rider in tow, she remembered. Or at least, she tried to. Every painful memory, even the happiest of them, were manifesting, but only in bits and pieces. Lullabies with long-forgotten words; learning how to track with her father, but forgetting the lessons; her mother's obscenities when they trekked mud in the house. Oh, how she missed them.

The water rose up on the shore, hitting her feet and burning the open cuts and blisters she had collected walking for miles in the dark. She had felt trapped in the forest, desperate for the open air that only the shores of Illium could provide her. The walk had calmed her somewhat, but it wasn't until the sun began to rise over the water that Hal felt like she could truly breathe again. Now she must face whatever happened next.

The wind was crisp here, spraying salt water on her face. She had spent the better half of twelve years trying to forget, burying the memories so far inside herself that she couldn't even remember what her mother's voice sounded like. Even her face was blurry. And that, the fact that Hal had allowed herself to forget even the smallest of details, was just as painful as remembering what she could in the first place. She could remember names, events, and conversations here and there. But she forgot her father's laugh, forgot if her sister had liked lilacs or daises the best. Such minor details, but she had committed them to heart so long ago.

She closed her eyes, too exhausted to keep crying. Instead she thought of the Tenari to try and remember what joy felt like. All the things she had learned as a woman, she had not the privilege to learn from her mother. Instead, Tena had sat her down and explained to her what a monthly bleeding was when it came to Hal at thirteen — and bless him, Denu had given her Nani as a present, citing that she had come so far, and having so much further to go, could use a faster pair of legs. It was Mai and Sarah who had explained the woes and pleasures of sex and marriage — and rather explicitly at that. It was Sam who had taught her to use her hands to defend herself, Ayo who had taught her to find peace of mind, Cado and Eli who made her laugh for the first time since she had come to Illium. And it was Amon who had been there to wake her up from her nightmares. Every. Single. One.

So much. They had all given her so much, and she had yet to give them anything in return. No matter what she did, it never felt like enough. Nothing was enough to repay the villagers for taking in a broken, little orphan girl and making her one of their own, like it was the most natural and normal thing in the world. And now there was an evil presence on her island. The only home she'd had after the other one had been violently taken from her. She had fought for this. Bled and cried for this. She had been loved and cared for at her absolute lowest, her absolute worst, and had learned to love and care for those same people in return.

And she'd be damned if she lost them too.

Hal recalled the magic she had felt coursing through her twelve years ago and, again, a few days ago. It was untamed and wild. Dangerous. She had lost so much because of it. She had lost everything.

You treat your magic like you're scared of it, Halen.

There was no doubt in her mind that he had been right. She was scared of it. Terrified. But she didn't want to live with this fear anymore. She knew it would consume her otherwise. And if she let it consume her, what was the point of living the life her parents had sacrificed theirs for? Even Murtagh had given it his all so that she may live.

She had found the Tenari, and found hope that perhaps a broken little girl could salvage what remained of herself to build a new life. And she had. She could not save her people. She could not save her family. But she would save the Tenari. And in order to do that, she had to get back to her village immediately, and pray the dragon rider was still there by the time she got back.

…

She imagined she must look half mad as she emerged from the woods. Her breathing was shallow, her side cramping as she slowed her run to a brisk walk. She was covered in sweat, sand, and dirt that her bloodied feet had kicked up, splattering and staining the white nightgown she still wore. She had minor cuts on her arms, legs, and neck from branches, areas she usually covered when she was out in the woods. Her hair was probably wild since she had nothing to put it up with, sticking to her forehead and neck in a manner that made her feel grotesque. She had hoped to avoid being spotted, but nothing seemed to be going her way lately.

"Halen, where the bloody hell have you been? Why in the heavens are you so filthy? Are you still wearing your nightgown?!"

Tena's voice seemed to hitch into higher territory as each question warranted a new level of disbelief and shock. Hal stopped moving, turning her head to face the woman who carried a fresh load of laundry in her arms. Tena blinked, waiting for a response when her brows suddenly furrowed. "Is everything okay, love?"

Hal strode towards her and threw her arms around the woman, ignoring the fact that she was dirty and sweaty. Tena was baffled, attempting to maintain her grip on her basket as she asked, "You never hug me unless something's wrong. Is something wrong or are you still drunk from last night?"

Hal shook her head, pulling away from the woman so that she could look at her properly. Deep brown eyes, lined with wrinkles and concern. Her hair that wasn't tucked underneath her scarf was beginning to turn grey around her temples. Tena moved her hand, cupping one of Hal's cheeks. "More than ten years later and I still can't tell what you're thinking," the woman murmured. "But you're planning something, aren't you?"

"You think me so nefarious?" Hal teased.

"I think you have been skittish and quiet since you and the men have returned to the village." Hal's smile fell. "You think I don't see those scars on your hands and know they weren't there before you left? I assume the Dragon Rider healed them, of course."

Hal nodded solemnly. Of course, Tena had noticed. She grew worried others had noticed as well. Unlike her other scars, Hal couldn't really hide these unless she stuck her hand in mud every time she went out.

Tena breathed. "Well if it were my business, you would've told me by now. Heaven knows you hate when I meddle. So long as you came home, that's all that matters."

Hal's expression softened. "How do you do it, Tena? Put up with someone like me, even after how horribly I treated you."

Tena blinked in surprise. "I've never 'put up' with you, Halen. I love you. And you were a child; everyone could see you were hurting. We would have to be monsters to hold that over you."

"But what about now?"

Tena lowered her hand, walking so that Hal may follow. "I know you prefer someone's honesty, so I will not lie. You can be difficult, Halen. Just as everyone can be difficult. But oftentimes, it's easier to see that your efforts stem from a place of compassion and concern for others. There are not many people who could do what you have done." Tena glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. "Would this have anything to do with why the Dragon Rider looked so upset this morning?"

Hal felt hope bloom in her chest. "He's still here?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't he be?"

Hal nervously licked her lips, dropping her gaze. "The rider's feelings are his own. But I admit he…I said things yesterday that I shouldn't have to him, out of anger. I thought he might have left because of how I treated him. Honestly, I don't even think I would have blamed him if he had."

"I see."

"Actually, where is he? I need to speak with him."

"Now?" Tena looked her over with unflinching skepticism.

"Aye, now." Before she lost her nerve.

Tena made a face, but turned back towards the direction they had come from. Murtagh was with Amon and a group of men, Ayo, Sam, and Cado included, working on the hut. Half were stomping mud, water, and straw in a pit that would be then be poured into wood molds to make the bricks. Amon and his team were chopping the wood that would help build part of the structure that made the houses more durable. Everyone was sweating, but in surprisingly high spirits.

Except Murtagh.

He was standing off to the side, working on his own. The swing of his arms as he brought the axe down, clearing the branches from the tree trunk, were labored and sluggish. His strength, she knew, would take some time to return to him. But his face was red with determination, his jaw tight, and eyes intense with focus and frustration.

Hal saw how angry he seemed and turned on her heel, but Tena grabbed her arm. "Not so fast. You can endanger your life like it's nothing but you can't talk to that young man?"

"He's busy," Hal grumbled. Tina raised a brow. "I don't want to bother him."

"Tough. Whatever you need to say to him, say it, and be done with it. How he receives it is not up to you. But own your mistakes, love. You're going to make them eventually, and you're going to make a lot of them."

"I hate it when you lecture me," Hal glowered.

"You always did. And you know what else? You, the rider, and Denu will join us for dinner tonight. No excuses. Be there, and do be sure to bathe beforehand." Tena gave her a stern onceover. "You smell."

Hal rolled her eyes to show her compliance, taking long strides towards the rider. As she got closer, her appearance became a quick distraction, men stopping their work to gawk at how crazy she must appear to them.

"You get into a fight with a tree, love?" Amon asked, following her quick movements with curiosity as she bypassed him.

She flipped him off, hearing his laughter follow her as she moved to stand by the rider, making sure to keep her distance from his swing.

"Can I talk to you?"

He paused, but didn't look up to face her. "I'm not in the mood to be insulted. Perhaps after lunch." He grunted, bringing the axe down on a particularly thick branch, several of his cuts having loosened it some, but there were still some ways to go.

Hal licked her lips, biting back her knee-jerk reaction to tell him off and call him a kitten. But she knew she had gone too far, and was smart enough to now keep her mouth shut. She could feel eyes on them as she stood there, at a loss for what to say or do. She realized she did not often seek forgiveness for her actions, she did as she saw fit, everyone else be damned. But Murtagh did not know her as the villagers did, and despite Tena's comments, Hal was not a child. Her actions were not so easily excusable now. And if she felt such shame to have said what she did, she couldn't imagine how it must've felt to hear it.

She doubted an apology would be enough, but it was the only place she knew to start. "Fine, then just listen," she said, speaking loudly enough that he could hear over the hacking of the wood, but not so loud that others could easily eavesdrop. She stepped closer. He paused briefly, his eyes catching her appearance and likely noting that she looked ridiculous. Then he continued as if nothing had happened.

Her throat was dry, and she felt panicked, unsure of how to proceed. She glanced to her left where the others were watching. The men she wasn't close with quickly returned to their chores when they realized they had been caught, but Amon, Ayo, Cado, and Sam showed little inclination of looking away, eyes wide with expectation and curiosity. Cado even gestured his head towards the rider, trying to urge her forward.

She sneered at him in irritation, but she was secretly grateful to her friends for their support. She turned towards the rider, steeling her resolve. Heavens, this was painful. She had faced worse, and had come out the other side alive. Not unscathed, but alive. It was a start, and that was all she needed. Her feelings towards Murtagh were still difficult to sort through. They had been through a lot in such a short amount of time that she didn't know where this left them. But she felt connected to him, indebted, ever since she had heard his voice, urging her towards him, away from death.

To me, Halen.

She took a deep breath and stepped close. So close that he stopped mid-swing, so there was nothing to distract him from what she said next.

"The soldier I killed was one of many who had come to occupy my village at the time. I don't know why. They claimed they were looking for Varden spies, but said as long as we cooperated, there would be no trouble. So, we cooperated, for we had no Varden spies."

Murtagh slowly lowered the axe to his side.

"But this…particular solider had been causing trouble for many of us. Rowdy, rude, and…dangerously aggressive." She licked her lips. "One day, he saw me in the woods and approached me. Tried to lure me further in, claiming he was lost and needed help getting back to our village, even though we weren't even half a mile out. He frightened me and I refused, so he got angry. He grabbed me, tried to drag me instead."

She swallowed the bile in her throat.

"My mother, who had been close by, found us. Not wanting to endanger me, she quietly diffused the situation to keep the man from getting any more belligerent. She told me to return to the village, and I almost did. But when I looked back…he was leading her into the woods instead. I waited, unsure if they would return or not. When they didn't, I followed after them. I knew I wasn't supposed to. And sometimes…I wish I never had."

Murtagh wouldn't look at her, his face pale. His jaw was tightly clenched, nostrils flaring in barely-hidden anger. And his eyes…there was rage and there was grief. But he was listening. And Hal forced herself to finish.

"When I finally found them…" Her eyes burned, wishing she didn't have to see. Didn't have to hear the vulgar grunts as the soldier forced himself on her mother, taking her from behind like she was some kind of animal. Pushing her face into the ground like she was nothing. And the thought that this was almost Hal's fate had her mother not intervened when she had…

But none of that was as awful as seeing the shame in her mother's eyes when she realized Hal was there. That Hal had seen. To see her mother's face twisted in pain, the tears in her eyes, as she sacrificed her dignity so that Hal may not lose her innocence.

"My hand twitched," Hal whispered, tears running down her cheeks, her voice haunting. "Like a spasm had run through it. Next thing I know, his head is facing the wrong direction and I'm blacking out."

There was a tense silence as Hal sniffed, moving to wipe her cheeks. But she stopped when Murtagh turned to face her, tears of his own falling silently. He raised his hand, hesitating, doubting. When Hal said nothing, too interested to see what he planned to do, he stepped closer, moving to wipe her tears himself. Her eyes went wide with surprise, but she didn't stop him. His thumb ran across her cheek, just under her eye, and such a simple gesture of kindness caused her face to twist in agony. She lowered her head to hide her face, covering her mouth with her hand as she choked on her sobs.

"Your mother is the kind of parent every child deserves, and too few are fortunate enough to have." Hal gasped, the weight and truth of his words breaking her heart. Because Hal had always known this. But to hear someone else acknowledge it almost felt like giving her mother's sacrifice meaning. And Hal missed her all over again. "I am so sorry you have had to endure all this time without her." Hal nodded, more tears falling. "You must think me such an ass."

"No," Hal said quickly, her voice cracking. "No, I was the ass. And I'm so sorry for what I said to you when you were only trying to comfort me. You were right. If I am to learn magic, I can't be afraid of it. And I've been afraid of it for so long because of what I did. I've been lying to myself for twelve years. But if I am to protect this village, then I must stand in my truth. I must own it and…accept it for what it is." She looked up at him, holding his gaze. His grey eyes were unwavering, and she found comfort in them. Strength. She shrugged her shoulders, her tears falling faster now. "It's just me. And that guilt…I don't think it will ever leave me. But I'm tired of feeling afraid and weak, looking over my shoulder and sleeping with knives under my pillows for soldiers to appear. This is my home now and I will protect it. But I would much rather do it with your help. If you're willing and able." And not still mad at her, she wanted to say, but she didn't want to appear so pitiful.

Murtagh's smile was kind. "I was wrong to reject you. And you were right, I was being selfish —"

"I never should have said —"

"No…no, I'm glad you did. Because I needed to hear it. You need to stand in your truth, and this is me standing in mine." His brows furrowed a bit, as if the weight of it all was too much. "There is not much I am proud of in my life. Except for Thorn, of course. And I have been selfish and arrogant. It's so engrained in me that, in order to survive, I must put myself above all others. Thorn, above all others." He looked down at her, his expression one of disbelief, as if he couldn't quite believe that he was seeing her at all. "And before me stands a woman so selfless, she hides her pain for the sake of others. Who races into danger if she thinks it may keep her people safe. Who asks a stranger with a past like mine to help her conquer her fears."

Hal's face was hot, but she could not hide how humbled she was at his words. At the slight awe in his voice. And she forced herself to hold his gaze.

"I will help you, Halen. It won't be easy, mind you, for either of us. It has been a while for me, and I am…my strength will not be what it was when I served Galbatorix, although that is, I know, for the best." She wasn't sure if he seemed convinced or not of this, but she decided not to question it. "But I can teach you the Ancient Language, while I build up my strength. Then we can move to magic. Although, to be honest, it would probably do you some good to learn swordsmanship too. You're proficient in self-defense, and you're exceptional with a bow. There's nothing wrong with learning another skill, and it'll help you build your strength, make sure your body is strong enough to handle the actual magic lessons —"

Hal couldn't help herself. Relief mingled with thankfulness at his ramblings made her forget herself for just a moment. She threw her arms around his neck, cutting him off mid-sentence as she hugged him. They were both sweaty and disgusting, but she didn't care. She couldn't find another way to express how grateful she felt. And she almost cried again. Not just that he had agreed to help, but just…to him. For his kind words and for understanding. She sniffed, holding him tightly, and he relaxed, slowly wrapping his arms around her as well.

"Whatever is going on, we'll figure it out together," he whispered into her hair. "Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

…

Although Halen insisted on walking back to the hut herself, Murtagh took one look at the state she was in and guilt made him adamant on accompanying her. Amon gave him a silent nod of approval and appreciation as they left, confirming that regardless of her stubbornness, he had made the right choice. He hoped, in due time, he would get better at making those.

They walked slowly, the sight of her bloodied prints making his throat tight. And despite her limp, Halen looked surprisingly…he shook his head, still unable to comprehend her strength. Her face was set with determination. Even a bit of nervous excitement at the prospect of learning magic. And she hardly seemed to notice the cuts on her body.

She walked towards the river behind her hut, easing herself down to the ground. She flinched as she stuck her feet in the water, but her face soon relaxed at the passing of the initial sting. They didn't speak, but Murtagh did not want to rush her just yet. His own mind was still reeling from her revelation, and the truth brought a pain and fury all its own.

But he attended to Halen as best he could, who asked him to run a bath for her. He followed her instructions on how to fill the tub and heat the water, fetching her when it was ready. He hadn't wanted the oils to disturb her cuts, even though they were minor, and had left them out. She looked grateful at his thoughtfulness when he told her.

Murtagh felt like a lost puppy waiting outside the bathroom door, listening as he heard the water splash as she lowered herself into the basin, sighing. But he didn't feel like he could leave just yet. He turned so his back was to the door, unsure of what to do with himself.

"A question for a question," Halen said suddenly. He was steadily becoming less surprised that she was so aware of his presence. Denu was exceptional at it, so it only made sense Halen would pick up on such things.

Murtagh slid until he was sitting on the floor. When he didn't flat out refuse her, Hal proceeded with careful caution. "Did you know your mother?"

He sighed. "Not as well I would have liked. I was separated from her not long after I was born and raised independently. I never really saw her much before she died when I was still small. She came to see me when she could, but I have long since accepted the fact that she did not love me like she loved Eragon."

He could hear the water move about and imagined Halen sitting up in surprise. "Wait, what?"

His smile was barely-there, but it was due more to her reaction than anything. "Aye. We are half-brothers. His father was another dragon rider, named Brom."

"My heavens. What are the odds?"

He read the proceeding silence well and grinned. "Dare I ask my question or are you bursting at the seams with more of your own?"

"I honestly have so many I don't know where to start. I should really carry a quill and paper in here with me — I do some of my best thinking in the bath. But I will politely bombard you later."

Murtagh chuckled at that. When he quieted down, he could feel her own sense of ease resonating as well. "Where did you go last night? After I left?"

"To the beach. I love the woods, but I sometimes think better in the open space. I feel less…trapped."

There was something about the way she said that word. And then he thought of the cave, of the Ra'zac, and decided to change the subject. "Are the beaches nice here?"

"You did not go when you arrived?"

"When I arrived, I was attacked by the Nïdhwal," he said grimly. Much as he hated to admit it, but even if he and Thorn hadn't endured the attack from the sea serpent, scenery was hardly something Murtagh was taking in.

"Goodness, rider, you have as profound bad luck as I do." Her deadpanned sense of humor made him smile again. "We must remedy that at some point. The beaches here are perhaps the island's best feature. I don't know about the mainland, but the sand is white, almost opalescent in the sun. And the water is not quite blue, but turquoise, sparkling in the light. And the sky is so…wide and open, it will take your breath away. I feel as though anything is possible, like I'm standing at the great beyond. I feel as though everything will be okay."

Murtagh closed his eyes, her words conjuring an image in his mind. There was such wonder and awe in her voice as she spoke, which amazed him. He was sure she had been to the beach plenty of times, and yet to still feel such astonishment at the mere thought of it. He envied her.

"Are we on your question now or mine?" she asked.

"Yours."

She sighed. "Am I the child Eragon was dreaming about? Give or take a few years, it would seem."

Murtagh should've expected she would be smart enough to figure it out on her own. "Aye, I believe so."

"I supposed I should've known immediately. If I had paid more attention, the features do match me when I was ten." She paused. "Is Eragon handsome?"

Murtagh made a face, surprised by how annoyed he was at the question. "Excuse me?"

"If a man I have never met is going to be dreaming about me, I'd like to think he was at least handsome."

"He's ugly."

She snorted. "I doubt that if he's your brother."

It was obvious she had not meant to say such words aloud, or perhaps had not realized how they would sound, and he flushed pink, rather pleased, as she groaned audibly, the noise becoming nothing but bubbles. He imagined her ducking her head underwater, and he laughed.

After a while, he calmed down long enough to ask, "Are you still alive in there?"

"Leave me to drown, rider."

"And let the only person to tell me such nice things cease to exist? Absolutely not. I should keep you around longer for whenever I'm feeling vulnerable or downtrodden."

"Careful now, I am just as soon to insult you as I am to compliment you. Stick with me at your own risk."

He smiled, not wanting to tease her too much just yet and make her uncomfortable or accidentally say the wrong thing. He must've been quiet much longer than he thought because she suddenly called out to him, as if suddenly anxious.

"Murtagh?"

He could hear her hesitancy, as if she herself disliked how afraid she sounded at the thought of being on her own.

"I'm here, Halen."

She didn't speak at first, and they both sat there, ruminating in silence. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

She took longer to respond, which meant she was choosing her words carefully. He waited patiently, and it sat up in surprise when he realized she was crying.

"Halen —!"

"I'm fine," she said quickly. He heard her curse softly, as if frustrated. She didn't sound convincing, and it took him a moment to realize he was gripping the door knob, unsure of what exactly he planned on doing once he opened the door except be throttled by Halen for invading her privacy so forcefully. But the thought of her alone and crying after what she had told him pained him more.

"I just…I'm a little overwhelmed, is all. And I haven't…I wish my family was here. And I'm scared, and I'm tired, and tired of being scared."

He wished there was more he could do for her. Some words of wisdom or gesture of hope that would put her heart and mind at ease. But all he could think about was how she sounded like a scared child. It was easy to see why though.

"Tell me what you want me to say," he offered her gently. "Tell me whatever it is you need to hear to get through this and I'll say it."

"There's nothing you need to say," she admitted. "Just…stay, a little while longer?"

He agreed, and they volleyed less heavier questions back and forth until Halen finally opened the door, Murtagh falling back and scrambling to sit up as she chuckled. "Sorry. Wasn't thinking."

He noticed she had bandaged and wrapped the soles of her feet already as he climbed to his. She smiled at him bashfully, and his cheeks felt rather hot at the look. "Thank you," she said in a low voice. "For keeping me company."

"I was happy to," he said, and was only slightly surprised to realize how sincere he was. "Your injuries —" he began.

"Are minor, at worst," she said, cutting him off with a sharp look. "You will not worry about such insignificant cuts. They'll heal and they won't even scar."

He still felt an ounce of guilt, however, knowing that she had taken off because he had been so crass with his words. He had opened such wounds, put her in such a state of despair…

Halen shook her head as if reading his thoughts. "I will use that pain to fuel me now. I could not save my mother, but I will save this village with everything that I have, including my magic. And if confronting those demons is the only way to do it, then I'm glad it happened now and not before I was too late. If I'm not already."

Murtagh nodded, feeling a multitude of emotions at once. He swallowed, unsure of himself. "Does anyone know? About your mother?"

She looked at him. "Only one. At least now, anyway."

For those who chose to skip for their own level of comfort: Hal reveals to Murtagh that the first time she used magic was when she witnessed a soldier of Galbatorix hurting her mother, and she reacted in self-defense and accidentally killed him.