They waited until sundown, when it was cooler. Everyone was dressed in vibrant colors and even brighter smiles. Like many of the men, Murtagh was dressed in loose pants, a bone ivory that made his tanned complexion stand out. There was an intricate deep blue pattern that was woven at the hems. He wore a matching vest over a blue, long-sleeved tunic that was meant to be loosely fitted but, due to the increase in muscle mass in his arms, only just managed to fit at all. But the material was soft against his skin, smooth like silk but breathable in the heat. Tena had even trimmed up the rough ends of his hair to make sure he was as presentable as everyone else.

"Murtagh!"

Layla ran towards him wearing an ankle-length, strapless dress of deep purple. Her hair had been braided and carefully pinned up. She twirled for him with a broad smile. "Do you like my new dress? Mama made it for me."

"You look beautiful," he said with a smile.

She beamed. "Thank you. We should hurry before all the good spots are taken."

"But what about —?"

But she had already grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the village center where the ceremony was to be held. Murtagh could find no sign of Hal, who had been strategically absent since he woke up this morning. Denu had not seemed surprised, claiming that she was doing much of what he would have done as the head of the village, but could not because of his impairment. "She'll likely get ready at one of the nearby huts so that the women can help her dress." The old man had sounded oddly happy about that, but Murtagh thought nothing of it.

Layla held his hand, swinging their arms dramatically as they walked, joining the ever-growing crowd of attendees. Murtagh could find no sign of Hal, and guilt and humiliation told him that this was more of a blessing than he deserved. He had no idea what he was to say to her when he saw her again. He had no idea how they were to acknowledge what had — or perhaps hadn't — happened last night.

He was utterly shameless. Everything about her had been a comfort. He had always felt at ease with her. At peace, just as Thorn suggested. But it wasn't until that moment that he realized just how much of an effect she had on him. How hard it was to be angry or tense when she was near. Especially when she was standing there, crying and indignant on his behalf. Saying such sweet things that chipped away at his stony resolve that he had worn for so long. He had drawn near, his body moving before his mind could realize what he was doing.

There wasn't a doubt in his mind. He had wanted to kiss her. He'd wanted her. And when he had looked into her eyes, seeing for himself and knowing the effect he was having on her, he had wanted to press her against the wall and see if she would gasp for him again.

He shook his head of the thoughts. She certainly deserved better than his lewd fantasies.

Although relieved he hadn't acted on impulse, the desire, he knew, was still there. Just thinking about how she had looked at him made his heart race. He felt dirty, thinking about her like he was. Ashamed. She didn't deserve it. She deserved better than him. And more importantly, there was too much going on in her life that required her attention. He would not distract her from that.

He feared having offended her, for multiple reasons. For his actions, in touching her in such an inappropriate and forward manner without her permission, and for suddenly leaving without any explanation or apology. And he wanted desperately to explain, but he didn't have the words to do so.

"Captain Hal, Captain Hal! Look at my new dress!"

The name broke his reverie as Layla rushed forward without him. Murtagh followed her to where Hal was standing, beside Denu, greeting the guests. He stopped walking, and someone ran into him, muttering apologies and darting around to continue forward.

Hal wore a dress of deep and mesmerizing teal, the same color as how she had described the ocean surrounding the island. Especially in the fading light of the sky, the color made her ebony skin glow, vibrant and lovely. The sleeves hung loosely off her arms, taunting him with the sight of her bare neck and shoulders. Cupping each bicep was a thick, gold-colored band. Around her waist was a fabric belt, a golden yellow like that of the sun, that accentuated her curves, the access material hanging neatly down her front. Her hair had been carefully pinned up, a thick braid wrapped around her head like a halo, and the rest tucked into a bun at the nape of her neck. The very nature of her attire reminded him of the island: resplendent and breathtaking.

She was watching him with baited breath as he made his way towards her. His footsteps felt slow and clumsy, but he stood straight, basking in her beauty as if truly seeing it for the first time. And he didn't understand how he had missed it. She didn't look different. She was still Hal. And he'd always thought her lovely.

And yet…

"Stunning, isn't she?" Denu said teasingly, sensing Murtagh without looking away from the guests who continued to arrive.

"Hush, old man, you can't even see —" Hal began.

"Yes," Murtagh breathed, cheeks flaming, and Hal's eyes went back to him, surprised. "Even I am not too proud to admit that, for all my years of education, I do not possess the words to describe how beautiful you look."

She began biting her lip again, then stopped, then clamped her lips together as she ducked her head, failing to hide her pleased smile. "Thank you," she whispered shyly.

Heavens above and below. He wanted her even more now. Fortunately, Layla's sudden giggles grounded him before he said or did something foolish in full view of the village. Neither he nor Hal noticed when the old man and the little girl high-fived each other triumphantly.

"Which reminds me," Denu began again, straightening up as Layla ran inside to find her parents, "Halen, why don't you stay with Murtagh during the ceremony."

"Are you sure? I've always stood behind you."

"It's expected, but it's not quite customary. And Murtagh is new, you should remain with him and help him understand some of the traditions."

"All right then, if you're sure."

Murtagh could feel Hal's presence throughout the entire ceremony. Denu was overjoyed, smiling more broadly than the bride and groom themselves. But Murtagh missed everything he said. He could feel Hal's hand mere breadths from his, and it was all he could do not to grab it. To hold her hand in his and feel her comforting warmth for himself. Their shoulders kept brushing against each other, and it felt intentional and playful. And it would send a jolt through his system every time. Occasionally she would explain a bit of the ceremony, its significance. She would lean in to whisper and he would catch whiffs of her perfume on her hair, shudder at her breath on his skin.

Murtagh dared to steal a glance, just a quick peek, only to catch her already looking at him. She quickly looked away, a shy, playful smile on her lips. Murtagh was captivated by the way it would tug at her mouth, and the way she would bite down on her lower lip to hide it. The urge to run his finger over her lip again took hold of him, and he could not help but wonder if she was teasing him now. The dimples in her cheeks were endearing, and no matter how hard he tried he suddenly couldn't look away. He simply could not fathom how he had missed such features before.

She looked back at him, this time holding his gaze. Suddenly Murtagh could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't understand what he was feeling, but it was like a warm sensation spreading throughout his entire body. Without taking her eyes off of him, she wrapped her pinky around his as if in a silent promise. But then she let go, turning back to watch the conclusion of the ceremony.

The bride and groom shared a sweet kiss and everyone erupted into cheers. Murtagh blinked, turning from Hal and swallowed, his cheeks aflame. He clapped politely, his smile growing broad as he gazed at the couple before him. They really did look happy.

The celebration that followed was grand. There was more food than Murtagh could imagine, and it wasn't long before his hands were filled with goblets of sweet wine. He watched the couple share their first dance as husband and wife with a lighthearted ease. Hal had been swept away by a few of the older women, and Murtagh had situated himself with Amon, Ayo, Cado, Eli, and Sam, who complained loudly of marriage, laughing when their wives made rude gestures to them from the other side of the fire, causing much of the party who had observed the exchange to laugh.

The music was upbeat and loud, Murtagh swaying contentedly in his seat, Thorn behind him where he gnawed at the large lovuk that had been snared for him.

"Did you enjoy the ceremony, Dragon Rider," Eli teased. "Did you catch any wedding fever?"

"Yes and no," he said. "I have very little inclination to marry."

"Heavens, now you sound like Hal," Cado groaned.

His ears perked up in surprise. "Hal doesn't want to marry?"

Amon laughed. "Does any part of Hal seem like she wants to be married?"

"Or 'tied down' as she lovingly refers to it," Sam said before taking a deep pull of wine.

That sounded like Hal all right. But he was still rather surprised all the same. "Is it okay, for women to be unwed here?"

"It's not common, but it's also Hal, so everyone just accepts it. Besides, even when she was engaged —"

Murtagh choked on his wine. "What?" he wheezed, tears in his eyes. Ayo clapped him on the back.

"For lack of a better term," Sam finished. "With the son of a leader from a neighboring village. They're still good friends, but woo-wee. I though Hal was going to kill him when they first met. He didn't have a great first impression."

"Or second," Amon added.

"Third was worse," Eli said absentmindedly.

"What did he do?"

"Well apparently, when Denu was trying to explain to the man that although Hal hadn't been open to the idea, she had agreed to meet with him, he had made a comment along the lines being able to 'break her in.'"

Murtagh whistled.

"Our thoughts exactly. And Hal overheard the whole thing, chucked her sandal at his head and said words Denu wasn't comfortable repeating."

"I hate that I missed it."

"We all do," Eli said with a grin. "Tengene heard and saw everything, of course, which made things worse for Hal. Not that she cared, mind you. Eventually the marriage dissolved, but Berjis — that's his name — came to respect her. And she him, for which he was lucky. They're on much better terms now. Hal even attended his wedding and was there for the birth of his children. She's actually godmother to his oldest daughter."

"We're planning on visiting his village soon," Amon said thoughtfully. "Hal meets with him every so often on behalf of Denu — since he can't travel like he used to. And they're close to the beach, so the food is impeccable.

"Especially if Berjis' wife is cooking," Sam added with a wistful expression.

"You should come with us," Ayo said with a grin. "I feel like all you do is work. You've got to see more of the island now that you're staying."

"That sounds fun," he admitted. "I won't be in the way, will I?"

"Oh, Hal says we're always in her way when we visit because we serve no real purpose except to visit friends and eat," Eli stated with a casual shrug. "So, honestly, you'll fit right in."

"What about you, rider?" Cado said, nudging him with his elbow. "No wedding fever, but is there any special woman in your life?"

Murtagh's chest felt tight and his expression fell somewhat. "There was one, a long time ago. But it was not meant to be."

Cado frowned, having been fishing for a different response. "I'm sorry to hear that," Amon said gently before Murtagh noticed the looks of confusion. "She must've been something to catch your eye."

That made him smile. "She certainly was."

Ayo clapped him on the back once more, this time sympathetically. But Murtagh wasn't sad, not like he had once been when he thought of Nasuada. He had been so busy, he didn't have the time to lament on what could've been like he used to. And he felt better for it. Like the more he could let her go, the less of his past he had to hang on to.

The men were soon pulled away by wives who wanted to dance, swept up in the romance of the evening as they reminisced about their own weddings. They made faces at Murtagh at first, mouthing for help with such dramatic antics that the women would slap their arms until they behaved. He laughed watching them, feeling such carefree joy from the villagers and from Thorn that even he succumbed to it.

Eventually, though, his eyes found Hal. He could tell she was tipsy with wine, her eyes bright in the fire and most of her accessories gone. Her hair was completely undone, freed from its up-do and swinging around her face as she twirled and danced with Layla and Denu. How different she looked from the last time the village had gathered like this. Murtagh had had to whisk her away for fear she would lose her composure. And now he only feared she would collapse from spinning too much.

His eyes followed her every move, taking in the way her hips swayed to the drums or the way she held up her skirt so that her feet didn't trip over the hems. There was a thin layer of sweat on her forehead that didn't slow her down, and she threw her head back and laughed at something Eli said to her as he joined in her dancing. As the wives of the other men tired out, they made their way to Hal and each man danced with her, some fast, some slow. As she danced with Amon, the man leaned over and whispered something in her ear.

Hal's eyes suddenly flickered over to where Murtagh was sitting, her gaze making his head spin as he wondered what the man was saying to her. When the song ended, another began, the pace much faster, pulling many of the villagers back to their feet. Hal barely made it out, and Murtagh laughed as she made a face, running towards him.

"Dance with me."

"Wait, no, Hal —!"

She didn't wait. She took his hands in hers and lifted him to his feet. She pulled him through the crowds, close to the inner circle, closer to the fire. Murtagh, was very much aware of where his hands were, and he was horrified to realize that they were trembling with nerves. And as Hal stood in front of him, taking one hand to place it on the small of her back, she blanched in shock.

"Rider, your hands…" Her face quickly transitioned to one of concern, the laughter in her eyes dimming. Her gaze became embarrassed. Ashamed. "I'm so sorry — Amon mentioned you hadn't danced with anyone and I wanted the honor of being the first."

"No, don't apologize." He gave her a wry smile. "But I admit that I am not confident on my feet. And I would not look nearly as good as you."

"Practice and wine never hurt." Her eyes seeking permission, he nods and she takes his hands again. She walked him through the steps, teaching him where to put his feet, laughing when he stumbled but encouraging him all the while. She kept the dance to the same few steps, keeping the tempo slow compared to the others, so he soon picked them up.

"There you go, Dragon Rider!" Amon roared boisterously, dancing past them with Tena in his arms. Amon slapped him on the back to encourage him, but Murtagh just felt his face burn hot as others turned to look at him.

"Ignore him," Hal shouted to be heard over the music and chatter.

And so they moved around the fire with the rest, dancing around each other. They stepped forward and stepped back, their arms around each other as they twirled. And almost immediately it was like everything and everyone else just fell away. It was as though it were only he and Hal in the village…in the world. Her face smiling up at him. Their fingers intertwined. It felt right.

It felt…perfect.

…

The ceremony threatened to last into the early morning, and when a drunken Denu began to loudly proclaim that the next man who jumped the bonfire would marry Hal, she called it a night. Especially when Eren boldly made a move towards the flames. Fortunately, Amon grabbed his son before he could make a spectacle of himself. Murtagh seemed all too happy to help her walk Denu back to the hut, both of them laughing at the ridiculousness of the old man crooning romantic songs to the full moon.

"Oh, nights like these, I miss my sweet Isa more and more," he said sadly.

His wife, Hal mouthed to Murtagh, and he nodded.

"Oh she was a surefire gem, Murtagh," Denu continued. "I lost her twelve years ago. Went peacefully in her sleep, although it broke my heart. But I got my sweet Halen not long after, so I wasn't lonely for long."

"She sounds wonderful."

"Who? Halen?"

Hal snorted and Murtagh bit down on his lip to hide is laughter and Denu's furrowed brows softened in understanding. "Oh, you mean Isa. Yes, yes, she was indeed wonderful." Denu was quiet for a few moments, then blurted, "You're not married, are you son?"

"Denu!" Hal scolded.

"It's fine," Murtagh said quickly. "But no, I am not married."

"Good, good. Just making sure. No woman ever catch your eye?"

Murtagh was quiet, his gaze unconsciously flickering towards Hal, who was trying not to appear so interested and missed his look. But Murtagh had never really discussed any romantic interests before. "Only one. A long time ago. But she and I…you could say we were doomed from the start. But we parted ways amicably, which is all I could ever ask for."

Hal felt her chest tighten. She had forgotten, but he had told her once…

You remind me of someone.

Someone you love?

Denu shook his head. "That's a shame. I know Halen may disagree with me, but I think marriage is the most beautiful thing in the world. Two people coming together, standing together, unified in love and respect —"

"If they're fortunate," Hal countered, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She was rather put out by the reminder that Murtagh had once had someone, or perhaps had wanted to have someone. Not even Hal had ever had such notions, and she was beginning to wonder if perhaps she was the only person in the world who had never been in love. And she felt silly for thinking it, but she felt rather ashamed for it, which made her hate the notion all the more and the pressure it put on those like her.

"Aye, that is true. I was very fortunate with my Isa. Oh, Isa. Isa."

Murtagh helped Hal get Denu to bed, the old man rambling and singing. He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The door to his room closed behind them, Hal stormed off to the kitchen, swearing under her breath. She came out moments later with a wineskin that was full and stormed out again. Murtagh followed her outside where she found a spot against the back of the hut, a clear view of the moon and sky overhead. She was taking long pulls of wine as Murtagh sat down beside her.

She offered him the wineskin and he graciously took it. As he drank, she looked up at the sky. "It's supposed to be good luck, to marry under a full moon. At least it is here."

Murtagh stared, listening attentively like he always did when she spoke.

"But in my village, back on Uden, the new moon was good luck. A new beginning for a new family. The ceremonies were smaller, just the families and perhaps close friends. The feast was still grand, but it was preceded by the customary dance, performed first by the groom and the men in his family. And then the wife would then perform her dance with the women of her family. The dances symbolized a promise, a commitment, to their partner. A vow, if you will. They were often very emotional for everyone."

She was crying, but her voice was steady, her head leaning back against the wall as her eyes focused on a distant past that she had kept buried for so long. "I learned the dance when I was seven, for my aunt's wedding. I spent hours practicing. I was so excited, so honored to be in a wedding. I wanted everything to be perfect. We all cried when it was over, even the groom and my father. And I couldn't wait to one day perform it for my husband." Her lower lip trembled. Then she looked at him, and his expression was full of sorrow.

"I don't remember that dance anymore, rider. I don't remember how it starts, I don't remember the music. I don't remember the order of the procession, or the vows. I have no dowry that my mother and father can hand down to me from my grandparents, and from their parents, that I may one day hand down to my children, who will hand it down to theirs.

"Everyone here assumes I am avoiding marriage because I can't find a suitable husband. And I admit that I have let them think as much, since it is easier to explain than the truth. I'm avoiding it because I can't bring myself to follow these customs. Every time I have been to a wedding, I say an extra prayer to grant them peace and prosperity even though they wedded under the wrong moon. It makes me paranoid, but that is simply how they do things. And I can't…I can't forsake my customs because I'm the only one left to remember them. And I don't even really remember them, which I am reminded of every time I sit through another wedding. And I hate it. I hate —"

She sighed, frustrated, and Murtagh offered her back the wineskin. She took it, grateful. "Why do we always wind up here after what's supposed to be a happy occasion," Hal added, her voice remorseful, more annoyed with herself than anything.

They sat in silence for a while, passing the wineskin back and forth. Hal wanted desperately to know more about the woman he once loved, but had little motivation to further add to the topic of romance and partnership when she so pathetically lacked in such stories of her own. The music drifted over them from the party and Hal began to sway to the slower, smoother tune. She hummed quietly to herself but stopped when Murtagh suddenly rose to his feet. When he held out his hand, Hal grinned. "And I thought you were averse to dancing with me. Have I not tortured you enough tonight, rider?"

"Only a fool could refuse you when you look the way you do tonight," he said, and Hal's face went hot as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Alone, his arm now slid easily around her waist, pulling her in tight to his body. Hal laid her hand on his shoulder as he held her other hand in his. They swayed softly, their steps shorter and much more at ease. "I attended many of the king's balls growing up, and again when I had to serve him. And I was made to dance and put on polite airs with the young ladies of the court—"

"That is perhaps the fanciest sentence I have ever heard."

"—So, I'm accustomed to slow dances, not fast ones like yours."

"Well you handled yourself with dignity and grace."

"Even when I stepped on your toes?"

She laughed. "Especially when you stepped on my toes."

There was a moment of silence, one Hal wished would last them through the rest of the night. So peaceful it was. He twirled her under his arm, stepping back as she spun away from him, then he gently pulled her back into his chest. When he moved to dip her, Hal laughed delightedly before he pulled her back up again. When she looked up at him, the movement caught his attention and he met her gaze. "What?"

Her smile widened. "I'm just happy," she admitted. "Everyone was so…joyful tonight and it just felt contagious. And having you here just makes it all better. And I just want to stay like this. This is what I want to protect."

Murtagh nodded in understanding. "I feel the same way." His gaze was sturdy, and Hal felt that if he hadn't been holding her, she would have collapsed at the intensity of it. "I could not take my eyes off of you tonight."

A shiver instantly ran down her back, lighting her from the inside at his words. The dancing slowed to a stop, but they still held on to each other as his words settled into the air around them. Hal felt…confused. Aroused and frightened by it. And once more, she found herself thinking about last night. How he had touched her and how she had reacted to it. She felt her heart begin to flutter at the thought that he might do so again.

"Have I said the wrong thing?"

"No," she said quickly. "Not at all. I'm just, not used to hearing such sentiments, is all."

His fingers went to her cheek, tucking some of her loose her hair behind her ear before returning to her waist. "A shame and a pity. For you deserve to hear it always."

"Then why not tell them to me yourself?"

He seemed taken aback, but grinned and asked, "Do you dare me to be so presumptuous?"

"And if I did? Would you accept such a challenge?"

"I would do whatever it was you wished of me."

"Even if I told you to kiss me?"

The words were out her mouth before her brain could register what she was saying. The blood was roaring loudly in her ears and she felt so embarrassed she had to fight to hold his gaze. She had meant for them to sound teasing and playful, but instead she had sounded wanton and desperate. This wasn't her. This was nothing like her. She was so confused. So very confused. Murtagh was her friend, the first she had ever really had who was closer to her in age and who truly understood her struggles, shared her secrets. And she his. That was precious to her. And she cherished it.

So why, why did that suddenly not feel like enough?

All he had done for her, and yet she selfishly wanted to ask more of him. But what was it that she wanted? She could say she wanted to feel his hands running down the curves of her body, or that she wanted to feel his lips on her skin. Those things made her burn and ache for him in a way she had never known her body to react before. But was that all she wanted? She couldn't even comprehend her own feelings — which was no surprise. The thoughts that popped into her mind when he gazed at her like he did now were…consuming. And Hal was beginning to realize that her feelings had not appeared just last night. But last night had forced her to acknowledge them. And she wasn't ready to do so.

Murtagh was still staring at her, equally as caught-off-guard as she had been by her own bold question. And she was so mortified and afraid of his response, his rejection, that she lowered her head, feeling herself becoming distant.

"Forget I said anything," she whispered, breaking their connection. Stepping out of the warmth of his embrace hurt more than she would have expected. But nothing compared to the emptiness she felt when he willingly let her go.

…

"Focus, Halen."

"I'm sorry —"

"Don't apologize. Just focus. We'll go again. Arm yourself."

Hal breathed, raising the hand-and-a-half sword in front of her as Invidia did the same with her own, thin blade. Her training and sparring with the elves were nothing like it was with Murtagh. She had hardly used magic since they had begun instructing her, instead spending hours sitting in silence like she used to do with Denu. Clearing her mind and focusing on the world around her and on her own energy. These was often led by Blödhgarm.

As for her sparring sessions? Invidia was strict, tough, and rather frightening. It took all of Hal's willpower not to return to the village limping after being beaten so severely. But she didn't complain, using magic as she was instructed to lower the temperatures of her bath water to ease the aches and bruises she had begun to accumulate. She was taught to use magic for simple tasks, things where it felt useless to waste her energy. But the more she used it outside of her practices, the more it felt like second nature, less strange. More…part of her. And now they were encouraging her to only speak in the Ancient Language, unless she had had to inquire as to the meaning of a word, which was still quite often. Then she must study the word and incorporate it into her vocabulary like she had done with everything else.

The lessons were much more stringent, and at first, Hal had regretted so quickly accepting their offer to teach. She had done it merely to lessen her contact with Murtagh, unable to even look him in the eye without wanting to burst into tears or bash her head against a wall. But the elves were much stricter and they taught at a much faster rate than Hal was used to. At first she struggled against the pacing and the amount of material they would dump on her at any given moment. It took longer than she would have liked, but eventually Hal was keeping up and beginning to see improvement in her magic and swordsmanship.

"Again," Invidia instructed.

Their blades clashed, but the shock of fighting an elf no longer impacted Hal's arms like it did in the beginning (Hal had ungracefully and frightfully dropped her sword, her grip not nearly strong enough to withstand the strength of Invidia's blow). Hal was able to move faster, deflecting attacks and blocking blows with much more stamina than she'd ever had. She had never pushed her body to such limits, and it felt strange to see how the muscles in her arms and legs grew harder. She felt strong, physically strong. So even though she still lost, she lost knowing that an elf was the closest opponent she would get that could match the strength and abilities of a Shade. She missed nothing and she never let the sessions go to waste.

As the next few weeks progressed, so did her lessons. Magic was incorporated into their fights, with Blödhgarm occasionally attacking her mind as they fought. It had been alarming, at first, and she had panicked, thinking it was the Shade again and had put too much energy into stopping the attacking, letting her guard down in her fight against Invidia. Had it been a real fight, she would've been beheaded. But once they both let her become familiar with the presence of their minds, she felt less wary of their intense lessons.

"Enough," Blödhgarm stated gently, barely audible over the sounds of their fight. But Invidia stopped mid swing and Hal dropped to her hands and knees, sweat pouring down her back and stinging her eyes. Of course, Invidia only looked mildly flustered, and they had been sparring for what felt like hours.

"You are greatly improving, Halen," Invidia said with a miniscule smile. The elf held out her hand and Hal warily took it, having no shame in letting the woman use more of her energy while Hal struggled to find her own. Her legs were weary, her arms heavy. She knew she needed proper rest. She was pushing herself, but Invidia's compliments were far and few in between, and Hal could not help but smile.

"Walk around, catch your breath," the woman instructed. "Hands above your head. We will stretch afterwards before you head back to the village."

They led her back to her hut, keeping to the trees like they always did. Hal bowed her head and spoke in the Ancient Language, "Thank you, Vinr-Alfakyn."

The hut was mercifully quiet when she entered. She grabbed a change of clothes and ducked inside the washroom, running a bath. She stared at the bruises on her body, feeling a strange sense of pride in them. You are strong, she told herself. You are capable. When she climbed in, she ducked her head under the water, the world falling silent as water filled her ears. She cleared her head, closing her eyes and letting the water drift over her until her lungs began to scream for air.

When she finally emerged from the water, the sun was rising higher in the sky. Her vision blackened as she grew dizzy. She paused, waiting for it to pass. And like before, it did. It always passed. But the dizzying spells were happening more frequently. She would have to be careful. She didn't want a repeat of before, not after everyone had so properly scolded her for it.

She dried off and dressed in a simple pair of fitted leggings and a loose, long-sleeved tunic. She patted her hair dry and ran a comb quickly through the curls before they became too tangled to be of any use. As she stepped out, she began to twist her hair into a braid.

The door opposite her opened, and she froze as Murtagh stumbled out of his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and making her heart race at the sight of him. His chest was bare, but Hal did not notice his scars this time. Instead, her face grew hot at the sight of hard muscle usually hidden by his tunics. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, too deprived to tear her eyes away. Instead, she could only think about how his arms had felt wrapped around her. Could only think about the thrill of running her hand across his skin, how warm it would feel underneath her fingertips.

Her body grew flush and not, she knew, from the bath.

She dared raise her gaze and found him staring at her with the same intense expression. His jaw was tight, his eyes wild. Like he was struggling to control himself. Hal thought again of his finger on her lips and swallowed the shiver that threatened to overwhelm her. She did not like how muddled her brain felt. These emotions terrified her.

She broke away from their connection, hurrying to her room to put distance between them before she lost her composure. But composure over what, she didn't know. He called out to her, just once, but she promptly closed her door and pretended not to have heard.

Breakfast was ready by the time Denu and Murtagh were dressed. Hal kissed Denu on the cheek as she set his plate in front of him. "Denu, did you sleep well?"

"I have no complaints," Denu said brightly.

Denu looked at Murtagh, expecting a response. But he carefully avoided their gazes and shoveled food into his mouth instead. Denu looked at Hal and raised a brow, and then she shoveled food into her mouth as well.

Once she was done eating, she told Denu, "I'll be leaving for Berjis' village today, with Amon and the others. Is there anything you will need while I'm away? Remember, I'm to be gone for at least three days."

"Bah — look at her, treating us men like we can't take care of ourselves." Denu winked at her and she shook her head. "We'll be fine, love. Do send Berjis and his family my regards."

"Aye."

Murtagh continued to eat with his head down. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. His silence was a result of her distance. She felt guilty, but not enough to address the issue at hand. Not when she could barely look at him without feeling like she was losing herself.

Hal kissed Denu goodbye and mumbled out a half-hearted 'see you later' to Murtagh before ducking out the hut. The others were already waiting for her by the stables and Nani flickered her tail happily when Hal approached.

"Sorry to keep you," Hal said breathlessly, mounting her horse. "I was making sure everything was situated at the hut before I left. Are we ready to go?"

"Not yet," Amon said with straight face. "We're waiting on one more."

Hal looked around them, counting to herself. Amon. Sam. Ayo. Eli. Cado. Hal. She counted again to make sure she hadn't missed someone the first time. Then her eyes went wide with understanding and she pointed an accusatory finger in their faces. "Who do I kill first?"

"Amon, if you must know; it was his idea," Eli said quickly.

"Relax, both of you," Ayo stated evenly.

"How could you not tell me you invited him?"

"First of all, I invited him before whatever spat you two got in. I still wanted him to come and despite his insistence, I refused to rescind the invitation. Not to mention, you would have refused to come or insisted he stay here," Amon berated in that fatherly way she hated. "Whatever is going on between you and the rider —"

"Nothing is going on," Hal said dismissively.

"Perhaps that's part of the problem."

He looked at her then and, for a fearful second, Hal thought, in his eyes, she saw the truth. Like he knew what went unspoken between her and Murtagh at this time. And how much it terrified her.

"You're an adult, Hal. And Murtagh's your friend. Whatever is going on — or not going on," he added quickly when she began to interrupt, "you two need to talk it out. Clear the air and move on. Everyone is starting to become concerned and you both have been rather intolerable lately."

"We already told Murtagh all of this, which is why he agreed to come," Sam said. "Although he did suggest we tell you outright rather than blindside you."

"But we know how you get if you have time to plan ahead," Cado teased.

Dread washed over Hal. She had been looking forward to the next three days away from Murtagh, hoping the time apart would clear her head. She needed less of him at the moment, not more. Despite the distance she had given them, it was hard when she saw him every morning and evening. When she ran into him after he bathed or he was already with Eli and Cado when she needed someone to make her laugh.

It was worse, though, the moments she did want to see him. When she overheard a joke she thought he would like or she made good progress in her training with Invidia and Blödhgarm. Moments that, any other time, she would share with him without a second thought, because she liked telling him about her day, and hearing of his in return. And then she would remember, and her muddled feelings would make a coward out of her yet again.

"Ah, here he comes. About damn time."

Hal felt stiff in the saddle, as if she knew exactly where he was. She could picture that somber expression on his face, feel his eyes boring into the back of her head. Hal blinked back her tears before they exposed how dreadful she felt about the whole thing. "I'm going ahead," she snapped, and she ushered Nani forward against the shouts of surprise from her friends.

They wouldn't understand. They'd think her mad. Or worse, perhaps, they'd think her sane. Either way, these feelings — whatever they were — she needed them gone. If distance did not work, fine. If training did not work, fine. But as cowardly as it was, to run away from him at the first chance she got, she didn't care. It was all about control and needing to feel like there was not someone else who could dictate her emotions or how her body responded to them.

It was all about control she told herself. Nothing more. Nothing less.

…

"I told you this was a bad idea," Murtagh grumbled, irritable as he climbed onto his horse. He couldn't deny how his skin prickled with rejection at Hal's hasty retreat. At the same time, the last few weeks, he'd seen nothing but Hal's backside as she went out of her way to avoid being in the same vicinity as him for more the absolutely necessary.

"Well that's Hal for you?" Ayo sighed. "You would think someone who instigates as many confrontations as she does would, well, be more likely to engage in confrontation."

"Nah, she doesn't care if it's something completely unrelated to herself. She's not exactly loose of tongue when it comes to her own emotions." Sam shook his head, as if disappointed. "Don't worry, rider. She'll come around eventually. You are not the first nor the last to receive her cold shoulder."

That did little to comfort him, but he wouldn't let them know. They had been surprisingly supportive since he and Hal had all but stopped talking. He wasn't as optimistic as the others that ambushing her on this trip would work — and so far, he was right. But as Amon would say: "The day is still young. Let's not jump to conclusions yet."

Murtagh sighed.

They rode largely in silence, the wind whipping past their ears so loudly that it didn't make for ideal conditions for conversation. Murtagh, however, didn't mind, as he tried, for the hundredth time, to figure out what he would actually say to Hal if he managed to get her alone long enough for them to talk. She was embarrassed, that much he could tell.

Even if I told you to kiss me?

His stomach still churned at the memory of that night, his emotions flaring. The night had been about the closest to perfect he could recall. And it had unraveled so fast that it still felt like he had been slapped with it. And Hal had gone out of her way to avoid him, no matter how many times he tried to talk to her. He could see that she was uncomfortable around him, so he gave up on pushing the matter, hoping that, in time, she would come to him when she was ready. And until then, he would use their distance to try to come to understand his own feelings on the matter.

Even if I told you to kiss me?

He regretted not stopping her before she fled, after those words left her mouth. He regretted not promising to do just that. He regretted not holding on to her longer. He had never been so…aware of her presence before. Of how soft she felt pressed up against him or how her hips dipped beneath the material of her dress. The length of her neck, the modest swell of her breasts, the warmth of her skin. She was suddenly becoming overwhelming, if only because he found himself looking at her like a woman, and not just as a friend. She was still Hal, and yet…

Murtagh shook his head. He couldn't talk to Hal when his mind was like this. He would only make things worse. Because not even he knew how to explain to her that despite everything she had done for him, it was no longer enough for him anymore.

He wanted more, that much knew. But such desire had never boded well for him. Why should this time be any different?