Hal was welcomed with open arms in Berjis' village as they recognized her atop of Nani. She smiled, waving as she passed and shouted back greetings and promises to go and converse with people later. But for now, she made her way to the center of the village, eager to have proper food and rest for herself and Nani.

The Xano village was not so different from the Tenari, with the key differences being their proximity to the ocean. Where Hal had to travel at least an hour, just on horseback, to reach the shores of the island to the east or west, the Xano were a stone's throw away. The smell of salt water permeated the air, and something about the scent put Hal at ease. Much of their homes were constructed just with wood, since the land led to the softer sand, not leaving much room for sturdy clay like what Hal's village used. Much of meals were seafood-based — another reason Hal loved to visit, for a taste of something different. She had learned the hard way as a child that seafood didn't transport well in heat.

Berjis and his family heard the commotion of the village at her approach and came out of their huts with wide smiles and welcome arms. Nani slowed to a stop and Hal jumped down as Berji's eldest, Bea, came running towards her, squealing in excitement. The four-year-old was round and soft, her grip so innocently child-like as Hal opened her arms and swept her off her feet.

"I missed you, Hal," Bea cried, gazing at Hal as she set her back down. "You never visit anymore."

"I know, I'm sorry, sweetie. I've been busy. But we get to hang out for a little bit, won't that be nice?"

The girl nodded, unruly curls bouncing with enthusiasm. Berjis' wife, Celia, approached next with a soft smile and a one-year-old on her hip. Their son, Aiden. When Hal had heard Berjis was marrying, she had felt a sense of…loss. She knew she could never love Berjis the way he wanted her to. Yet a part of her had become rather attached to the idea of being loved. She knew it wasn't fair to him, and she had come to be truly happy for him when she had met the kind and graceful young woman that was everything Berjis had wanted and needed in a wife. Someone who could calm his rugged emotions, not enflame them. It had been the first and only time Hal had wondered if she should have said yes to his proposal, when he gave it to her from a place of sincerity, a year after they had met. Could she have fallen in love with him? Could she have borne his children and entertained his guests? Could she lay with him and feel the adoration she felt one should when lying with another?

Celia knew of their history, but she had always been friendly to Hal. And today was no different as the woman hugged her with one arm. "Bea has been talking of this for weeks. We're so glad you're here."

"Me too," Hal said sincerely, although it may have been undercut by the faces she made at Aiden. Both women laughed when he spluttered over his spit, wailing his arms and fists enthusiastically in response. "I know it's been so long," Hal continued, looking back up at Celia. "Things have been…the last few months have been a whirlwind." An understatement if she ever heard one.

"Where are the others?" Berjis asked, taking his son from his wife's arms so that she may rest them. "Did you ride off again and leave them?"

"Why ask questions you already know the answer to?" Hal stated teasingly, promptly then taking Aiden from Berjis so that she could continue to play with him. "They should be arriving any —"

Hooves reached them and Hal gave Berjis a self-satisfied smirk, to which he rolled his eyes and grinned. However, her enthusiasm became strained when she remembered that there was one other with them that she had not accounted for.

"Who is the pale man that rides with them?" Celia asked, turning to Hal with a curious expression.

She swallowed. "A friend," she said cryptically. "Our village recently took him in. Amon invited him, thought he'd like to meet some of our neighbors."

"How wonderful!" Celia exclaimed. "I've never seen skin like his before. Is he from the mainland?"

Hal nodded stiffly, trying to keep her face composed so that her nerves on the matter did not give her away. "Berjis, would you mind showing me where I'll be staying. I'd like to put my things down and get Nani settled before greeting the other villagers."

She was being childish, she knew. But right now, it was the only course of action she knew to take. She knew she could not avoid Murtagh forever, but for the foreseeable future felt vastly reasonable at the moment.

Berjis eyed her suspiciously, then eyed the rider as the group approached. "Of course. Celia, please see to our guests. We should have an extra tent as well."

"I'm sorry if this is sudden," Hal said. "I didn't realize he was coming. Amon and the others really wanted him to see your village. They may have talked it up so you will really have to impress him, I'm afraid to say."

Celia laughed at this. "It is no trouble at all, Hal. A friend of yours and is a friend of ours. I will see to it that he is taken care of."

"Thank you, Celia."

Hal and Berjis walked off, shame burning in Hal's cheeks as she could feel the stares of the others on her back. Oh, Amon would surely berate her for her behavior. She could not say she would blame him. She hefted Aiden up higher on her hips, and nearly fell over when he comfortably laid his head down on her shoulder. She had not been as present for him as she was his sister, but she felt an acceptance in the action that made her weak-kneed.

"Did you have a safe journey over?" Berjis inquired, glancing over at her. He grinned, as if knowing what she was thinking at the bemused smile on her face as they both glanced at Aiden. "No issues with lovuk, were there?"

"Oh, no, none at all. Actually, they have been better behaved as of late. We think it was a tainted food supply. Are they still bothering your people?"

"No, not for the last few months now that I think about it." He smirked, shaking his head. "Let me guess: you went off on your own to find out why the lovuk were changing their behavior?"

"Not exactly," Hal said, wincing a bit. "I had back-up. Eventually."

"Amon and the others?"

She bit her lip. "Murtagh, actually. Our new friend."

"I see."

Hal rolled her eyes. But before she could respond, Berjis said, "Ah, here we are."

A row of canopy, white tents had been erected on the edge of the village, the forest behind them. Although often when they were visiting, Hal and her friends would sleep on the beach, taking in as much of the ocean as they could before they had to leave again. She wondered if she could bear it this year if Murtagh was with them. Berjis led her to the tent furthest away and they came to a halt outside the open flap.

"What are you not telling me?" Berjis finally asked, turning to face her with a look of concern.

She shook her head. "Nothing in particular. Why?"

"The newcomer, you seem skittish."

"We're…it's nothing. Just a personal matter."

"You know you can talk to me, Hal."

She gave him a soft smile. "I know, Berjis. And I thank you. But I'm fine, honestly. And the newcomer's name is Murtagh, just so you don't forget."

He sighed, sensing that she was not going to reveal more than that. "Fine. Do you need anything then? I can have Bea bring it to you."

"I don't think so, but if I think of anything —"

"You'll let me know," he finished with a knowing look. And Hal nodded and agreed, smiling despite herself. "Good. I know I don't have to tell you this, but my village is your village. Make yourself at home."

"So hospitable," Hal teased. "Celia is whipping you into shape, I'm impressed."

"Do not tell her that, it will go to her head."

"She hardly strikes me as the type to have an ego."

"Perhaps not in public. But her private one is inflated tremendously."

"Probably because you spoil her and the children."

"I do," he said with a knowing grin. "Go, rest up. I shall be around if you need me."

Hal suddenly had a thought, a question, and opened her mouth when the weight of it hit her and she closed her mouth again. Instead she passed him his son and said, "Thank you, Berjis."

…

"How do you and Hal know each other?"

Murtagh carefully hid his surprise as he finished pulling on a clean, long-sleeve tunic. The man, Berjis, was standing at the entrance to the modest tent Murtagh had been provided for the duration of their stay. Sam actually had family here that he would stay with, and the others were splitting two tents between the four of them. Leaving Murtagh on his own. It was a modest space, quickly erected around a wooden palet for the floor, a makeshift cot, and a small basin where he could wash his face. Of course, they would all have to bath in the river. But Murtagh didn't want to have to think about that yet.

Admittedly, with Thorn keeping to the forest so as not to frighten the other villagers, and with everyone else meeting up with friends and walking around, Murtagh felt strangely alone. And he felt more estranged with Berjis eyeing him suspiciously from a few feet away.

"She saved my life," he admitted. There was no point in lying, and it was certainly not suspicious. "Nothing more."

"And how did you come to stay at the Tenari village? Why did you not leave?"

Murtagh gritted his teeth, making sure to keep his emotions in check. "My business is between me and Hal. If she has not told you, then why should I?"

"Because I'm asking you to explain who you are and what you want with Hal. Why does she seem uncomfortable around you?"

That made Murtagh flinch. Even people who had never met him before could sense their distance. But the word 'uncomfortable' made him feel lousy. "Again," Murtagh finally said, "that is between me and Hal."

"Hal is my business. She is my friend —"

"And she is mine," Murtagh retorted sharply, his skin prickling with a strange combination of defensiveness on his own behalf and protectiveness on Hal's.

"I hardly got that impression with the way she ran from you today. I know Hal, and she does not spook easily."

The observation stung and Murtagh barreled past the man before he hit him. However, Berjis didn't allow him to go far, chasing after him and grabbing his shoulder, spinning him around so that they faced each other. Murtagh quickly noted that they were about the same height and weight, almost equally intimidating and capable of holding their own if it came down to a fight. Murtagh clenched his fist but held them at his side.

"If I think for one second your presence is a disruption to Hal's peace of mind, I will throw you out of my village without a second thought."

He made sure to slam his shoulder into Murtagh's as he left, his look of disdain only mirroring Murtagh's own. But the second he was out of sight, Murtagh's shoulders slumped with dismay as Sam approached him, his expression bewildered.

"Dare I ask what the bloody hell that was about?"

Murtagh didn't respond as a figure caught his eye. He turned to find Hal emerging from her tent quickly, likely eager to begin mingling of her own with Amon and the others. She paused when she saw him and Sam, and he quickly hid the pain on his face. Yet as he felt his eyes boring into hers, he could feel his emotions reaching out to her, desperately wanting to bring her close and demand the truth: did he make her uncomfortable?

Hal quickly looked away and sped off, and something in his chest cracked at the sight of her retreating figure.

Beside him, Sam swore softly in understanding.

…

Hal managed to avoid Murtagh and Berjis for the rest of the day, catching up with friends and families she had not seen in a while. It was good for her, she knew, to be preoccupied with something that did not revolve around the rider or her training or Ra'zac. She felt a calmness as she sat, ate, and drank the day away with sincerity and enthusiasm. On occasion she ran into Amon, Sam, Eli, Cado, and Ayo, but much of the group had gone their own separate ways to get in touch with their own friends. But she could not help but notice that Murtagh was not with any of them.

Supper would be provided by Celia, and the woman insisted Hal not help with the preparations. So Hal played with Bea and her brother on the floor while Celia cooked, and the two women talked fondly of a variety of topics. Celia inquired into Denu's well-being and the Tenari, and she talked fondly of married life and motherhood. As she spoke, the burning question Hal had almost asked Berjis returned, and she realized that she would much rather talk to a woman about her inquiry.

"Celia, may I ask you a rather…personal question?"

The woman continued to stir the stew over the fire, the hut filled with the spicy flavors of crab, shrimp, and fish. Her eyes flickered up to Hal. "Of course. Is…would this happen to have anything to do with the young man, Murtagh?"

Hal stared, incredulous. "How — how did you know?"

"I spoke with him briefly, when I showed him to his tent. He is very polite." Hal nodded. "But it is just a feeling. Please, ask your question before I begin making passing assumptions."

Hal swallowed, suddenly nervous now that Celia knew what she did. About who was involved. But she did not think the woman would tell anyone, not even Berjis. She had an air of trust about her, knowing when to speak and when not to about private matters. Unlike the women of Hal's village, who would more than likely tease Hal, then gossip mercilessly.

"How did you know your feelings for Berjis were more than just…feelings?"

Celia blinked. "I don't follow."

Of course she didn't. Hal wasn't sure she understood her own dismal question. She tried again, but her voice failed her. Sensing her discomfort, Celia ushered Bea to her room, and the girl barely protested at the sternness of her mother's voice. Dragging her dolls, the girl closed the door to her room and Celia got comfortable on the floor.

"If I may make a passing assumption based on what I've observed and heard so far," Celia began cautiously, waiting for Hal's nod of approval to continue. "Are you and Murtagh intimate?"

Hal's face burned at the thought. "No, no. Not in the way you are thinking," she clarified quickly. "But he is…he's kind to me. And lately, his kindness feels like more than that of friendship."

"Can you give me an example?"

Hal was mortified as she relived their private dance after the wedding. The way he had looked at her, the words they had exchanged. The way his hands always seemed to find her cheeks, her wrists, her hips, caressing her skin tenderly. Her heart was racing madly just thinking about it. "I'm so confused and I don't know who else to talk to about this," Hal finished, tears of shame and frustration burning her eyes. "I feel like I'm losing my mind. I don't know if I'm reading too much into it or not. He is so unbelievably kind and gentle so I can't tell what he's thinking in such moments."

"Oh, Hal, don't cry." Celia wiped her face affectionately, her hands warm and soft. "You are describing the feelings of attraction. It is nothing to be embarrassed about. It's perfectly normal for all of this to feel confusing, and even a little scary."

Hal bit her lip. "But I do not — it feels like more than attraction, but not quite…" She stumbled again.

Celia nodded in understanding. "But not quite love."

"I do care for him. Deeply. He means the world to me so surely that must mean I love him, right?"

Celia's smile was sympathetic. "I cannot tell you that, Hal. Those are your feelings. And love is a very tricky one at that. But I will say this: Murtagh seems very appealing for different reasons. And if he is as attentive with you as you have just described, then your feelings are understandable. It is not wrong to want to be desired, and it is not wrong to desire others. You are as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. If Murtagh sees that, then it is no wonder he may want more, even if he doesn't realize it himself."

Hal blushed again, surprised by such unexpected but heartfelt praise. "What should I do?"

"Do not be afraid of your feelings. Don't rush them," she added cautiously, "but allow yourself an opportunity to explore them further. You may discover that you like what you find. But perhaps, when you are comfortable, let Murtagh know as well. He seemed quite melancholic when I mentioned you."

Hal thought of this quietly and decided the advice made some sense. The overall nature of her feelings still made her anxious, but it also felt like a step in the right direction. A notion that her thoughts and emotions were valid felt empowering and she breathed. "If Berjis had not married you I may have." The woman laughed. "Thank you, Celia. I have been going crazy the last few weeks trying to make sense of this."

"Weeks?! Oh, Hal, why did you do that to yourself?"

"Because I was afraid," Hal admitted. "This is so new to me and I don't want to jeopardize our friendship. I just hate that Murtagh was involved. I know I owe him an apology."

"Perhaps over dinner then. Which is almost done, so you should hurry and change. I'll have Bea come and fetch you when everything is ready. It shouldn't be long now."

Hal thanked the woman profusely as she left. Her heart and mind were still very much at odds, but it was like a weight had been lifted. She must decide how she truly felt, but to know what she currently felt did not make her crazy, was a relief. But would Murtagh feel the same?

She found a private and reclusive part of the river to quickly bath and rid herself of the stench of the day. She hated bathing publicly. She feared someone would see the scars on her back. And now she had to be careful to hide her bruises too. Back in her tent, she brushed her hair as she began to prepare for dinner, picking out the clothes she would wear. She began to dress, slowly pulling on her skirt and a tunic with loose, long-sleeves.

"Boo!" Hal yelped in surprise, covering her chest on instinct as she spun around, Bea crouched inside Hal's tent, her arms up like a creature as if she had literally jumped in just to scare her. But there was no playfulness in Bea's face when she saw the still-healing bruises on Hal's body, and her expression went slack.

"Bea, sweetie, you frightened me!" Hal exclaimed, trying to keep her voice light. "Is your mama's supper ready?"

The girl nodded quietly, her joyful mood all but gone now. Swearing quietly to herself, Hal turned back around and finished getting dressed. But when she turned back around, Bea was gone.

Hal shouted for the girl as she ran out after her. She decided to forgo sandals as she tried to rush after the child, praying she could catch her before she found anyone of importance to blab off to.

Hal sprinted out of her tent, headed back towards Berjis' hut, assuming Bea would simply return home. She received curious gazes, her search bordering on desperate. She could not, absolutely could not, explain where she had gotten the bruises from. And she didn't want Bea thinking someone had hurt her.

Heart racing, Hal was devastated to turn a corner and see several pairs of eyes look up at her as she did. Bea whimpered as Berjis stepped forward, his eyes almost mad as he looked at her. His expression was no different from that of the others. Only the rider at least understood why, but he did not look any less angry about it.

Shit. What exactly had Bea told them?

"Roll up your sleeves, Halen," Berjis commanded, his eyes narrowing.

"Look, Bea, sweetie, what you saw —"

"What she saw was enough to frighten her," Berjis snapped. "Halen, has someone been hurting you?"

"What? Heavens, no! Berjis, listen it's hard to explain —"

"You don't have to protect them, Hal," Amon said, his voice low and tight. He was, at least, trying to maintain his emotions.

"Was it you?" Berjis said, spinning and pointing a finger in Murtagh's face. The rider jumped up at the accusation but Ayo was between the two men before they could get any closer.

"You're a sick bastard if you think I'd ever lay a finger on her," Murtagh seethed, eyes wild with rage.

"We can vouch for him, Berjis, so calm down before you say something else you will regret." Sam's voice was low and controlled, but even Hal's skin prickled at the underlying threat in his tone. He then turned to Hal and said, "Roll up your sleeves, Hal."

"I am not doing this. This is insane!"

Berjis stalked towards her, his temper flaring, which she had always hated. She backtracked quickly, but he had reached her a few short steps. He grabbed her arm so tightly that Hal swore as the pressure irritated her injuries. Her reaction only made things worse, and he ripped at the fabric of her sleeve. Hal was aghast, but even as she slapped him across the face for such an invasion, the numerous bruises on her arm was revealed.

Berjis' eyes went wide and a tense silence fell over the group.

"Heavens, Hal," Eli breathed.

She wasn't ashamed, but her inability to tell them truth without sounding mad made her cheeks burn. Murtagh approached her, his jaw stiff with fury. She could see it in his eyes. "We're talking. Now."

Hal could not find it in her to argue, especially considering it would get her away from the others. But as she turned to follow him, Berjis reached out and grabbed her wrist. "You must be out of your damn mind if you think I'm letting her go anywhere with you."

"Don't touch her," Murtagh growled, his eyes blazing.

"Murtagh, calm down. Berjis, let me go. You can trust him —"

"Not with you, I can't."

"Berjis!"

"I said let her go," Murtagh hissed. He and Berjis were practically the same height and build, but Hal had no desire to see a fight break out.

"As soon as you admit where the hell these bruises came from."

She saw Murtagh's hand curl into a fist. But Hal had already lost her patience and her temper. "If you both don't get your shit together right now and act your age I will string you up by your ankles and feed you to the lovuk." To Berjis she said, "Your child is watching you right now; do not give her a reason to see her father get punched by her godmother, it will not end well for you."

Berjis, correctly, took a step back, his expression one of shame at the mention of Bea. "Hal —"

"I'm. Not. Done. Talking." He fell silent. "Now you have every right to be concerned about how I got these injuries, Berjis. I'm not angry at that. You've always been protective of me, and it's only because of your friendship, your child, and the fact that I will not disrespect you in your village that I won't hit you again. The details behind why I have these bruises are personal and vastly, unbelievably complicated. So, you'll only have my word when I say that there's no ill intent behind how I got them, nor are they Murtagh's doing. But Murtagh is my friend and, more importantly, he is part of the Tenari village. You will watch your tongue before shouting baseless accusations."

Before he could respond, Hal turned on her heel and grabbed Murtagh's hand, pulling him away from the chaos as bodies began to appear, curious and drawn to the sudden commotion. But Hal didn't notice any of that. All she could focus on how warm Murtagh's hand felt in hers, how nice it was that, when she squeezed his hand, he squeezed right back.

…

"It's honestly not that bad," Hal sighed.

"It's still excessive," Murtagh grumbled. Hal yelped as he pressed down on a particularly nasty bruise, already turning green, on her back. "'Not that bad my ass," he grumbled.

"They're elves. I'm at a vast disadvantage when we spar, why are you so surprised?"

Murtagh was quiet. His thoughts felt belittling, but the truth was that he didn't want to see any harm come to her. Even he had been mindful of where his sword landed when they had sparred together. But these blows…

"This is why you've been moving so slowly," he whispered. "You've been hurting this much and you said nothing."

"There was nothing to say. I didn't want to complain."

"Do Blödhgarm or Invidia know?"

"If they do, they did not hear it from me."

He was silent, his breathing having returned to normal despite his almost-fight with Berjis. Hal sat before him, having removed her top, the blanket to her makeshift cot draped across her chest as Murtagh examined the injuries on her back. She was straining herself, he noticed, gripping the material of the blanket tightly in her fists.

Uncomfortable.

"At least let me heal the worst of them," he muttered, his voice gently pleading for her to give on this one thing. And the sentiment was enough that Hal slowly nodded.

He worked quickly, his fingers pressing on her skin and finding what pained her the most. He healed the bigger bruises, and Hal felt her breathing relax some as it brought her a bit of relief.

"Does it hurt anywhere else?"

Hal shook her head. "No, that's much better. Thank you."

He sighed. "Try not to let it get this bad. This kind of damage will only do your body more harm than good if you put too much strain on it at once."

Hal nodded. "Okay."

However, Murtagh didn't move his hand right away, his thumb brushing against the scars on her back.

"Thank you, for defending me against Berjis," he added, his voice tight. "I know it couldn't have been easy for you."

Hal chuckled grimly. "It is surprisingly easy to get angry at Berjis," she countered.

"…Is that why you didn't marry him?" She turned in surprise, her brows raised as she waited for an explanation. "Amon and the others may have let it slip that you two were once betrothed."

She should've known. She scratched her forehead. "It is one of the reasons, yes. Berjis was quick to lose his temper and jumps to conclusions at a startling fast rate. He's not violent, but you can imagine based on my personality that I was just as likely to shout back in my own anger. But he is vastly changed from when I first met him. What you saw back there is a man who married the woman he's meant to be with. Celia is firm, but calming. There were many arguments where I could not quell his temper so easily."

"She was very kind to me when I met her."

"She said much of the same about you."

Murtagh was silent a moment, his hands still on her back. "Why else didn't you want to marry him?"

Hal swallowed as his fingers began to run across the skin of her back, tracing the scars in a manner that mirrored how she had done it to him months ago. "I feared being trapped in a loveless marriage. Even as we became friends and he attempted to court me out of affection and not obligation, I was afraid. I felt pressure from both villages to say yes. When I was younger and watched how my parents were together, there always seemed to be a light in their eyes when they looked at each other. I wanted that for myself. After everything I had been through, I had decided that if and when I did start a family, I deserved for it to be out of a mutual love and respect.

"I could not give that to Berjis. I did not desire him, even though I thought him handsome. I did not miss him when he was away, even if I enjoyed his company. I did not feel the things I felt one ought to feel if —"

And then she froze, the rest of her words stuck in her throat as she realized what she was saying. And her eyes burned unexpectedly at the realization. She blinked quickly before Murtagh suspected anything, grateful that she had her back to him so that he could not see her stricken face.

"Hal?"

"What? Oh, yes, sorry. Just thinking."

"Was Berjis angry when you rejected him?"

"Uh, no," she said quickly, trying to keep her voice steady. "He was understandably upset and disappointed, but he accepted it gracefully. I think he knew even before he had asked me. But after some time apart, when I heard he was engaged to Celia, I went with Denu to congratulate him. We fell back into old conversations and began to talk as friends. He's a good man. I hate that this was how you two met."

"He was being protective of you. I cannot fault him for that even though I hate it was at my expense."

"As do I. I'm sorry, rider. I feel like this is my fault."

"I won't lie to you, Hal." His voice was serious, and she closed her eyes, waiting for his indignation, his righteous fury. Instead, all he said was, "I'm just glad you're talking to me again."

She let out a bark of laughter, turning to glance at him over her shoulder to shoot him a smile. He grinned back. "I missed you," she admitted, and the words hit her like a gut punch. Even though he had been steps away from her all this time. She had missed him with a fierce ache.

"I missed you, too."

The pace of his hands was hypnotic, her skin growing warm where he touched her. His fingers swept across her shoulder blades. His touch was sweet, seemingly the same as it ever was. Yet this felt…different. Exploratory. Like he was studying the smooth skin, the ropey scars, and the bumps of her spine. He followed her spine down the length of her back. And she realized then that he was close. So very close.

His eyes fell, and for a second, Hal thought he was staring at her mouth again. But then his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, and his head turned to look away from her entirely. And Hal looked down, blushing when she realized that she had been so caught up in the moment that she had almost let the blanket covering her chest drop, nearly exposing herself to him. Heavens.

"I should go," he whispered, his voice strained. "Before anyone questions why I've been gone so long."

"Murtagh —"

Hal watched his figure retreat with despair, hating that she had let it get this far. Hating her own cowardice. She collapsed back on her cot, her nerves completely undone. She wanted to explain herself — wanted to at least let him know that he had done nothing wrong. It was her stupid, confusing feelings. Yet she had no words to explain what she did not understand herself.

No. That was a lie, actually. Because her words to Murtagh about why she could not marry Berjis came to her. And she felt so stupid that she really did cry this time, laughing at her own foolishness.

…

The next day was focused more on actual business, Berjis, and Hal discussing the ongoing partnership between the villages. Hal was there on behalf of Denu, making sure to hit all of the points he had given her about what should change and what could remain the same. It was a fairly straight-forward conversation and they were done by lunchtime, having the rest of the day to themselves.

Hal went and found a rather private spot to eat, still feeling rather put out now that she was the one being avoided by Murtagh.

"Is this seat taken?"

Hal wasn't too surprised as Berjis smiled down at her sadly. She hesitated, but eventually shook her head. He sat down beside her, offering her a glass of wine, which she graciously accepted. They were silent a moment, observing the people as they bustled to and fro, coming in from the fields to their huts for food and rest.

"I saw you talking with Murtagh earlier this morning," Hal commented casually, taking a slow sip of wine and studying Berjis' face for any sort of reaction.

"Aye."

"And what did you two discuss?"

Berjis gave her a knowing look. "If you must know, I set aside my pride and apologized profusely for my behavior since his arrival. I realize that I had misunderstood a few things and reacted inappropriately."

"Misunderstood what, exactly?"

"His relationship to you." Hal looked at him blankly. "The day you all arrived, you went out of your way to avoid standing near him. You barely even looked at him."

Hal flinched. "Yes, we had a bit of misunderstanding and I was being childish and avoiding him. What of it?"

"Well from where I stood, you seemed skittish around him. I mistook it for fear. And I've seen strong women like you fall prey to dangerous men. And they sound just as you do when you defended him. And I presumed Ayo and the others had no idea. So, I made a complete ass of myself for all of the wrong reasons."

"Oh. Oh, Berjis," Hal groaned with understanding. She had mistaken his mischaracterization of Murtagh as either blatant ignorance or assumed Berjis thought Murtagh an easy target. She hadn't realized there was actually an attempt at logic behind his conclusion. A conclusion he had reached because of her behavior, driven out of embarrassment, not fear. At least not a fear of Murtagh harming her. She had never been concerned about such a thing, but could see how someone who didn't know better would assume something else. "Now I feel like the ass. That my actions caused such a commotion; I'm completely humiliated."

Berjis chuckled. "I admit, I wasn't convinced until Murtagh and I spoke man to man. He clarified my misgivings, and he accepted my apology. Something he said he wouldn't have done if he was still the man he was before he met you."

Hal looked at Berjis, her eyes wide. "He said that to you?"

He nodded. "And I told him that that was Celia for me. I can tell by the way he talks of you: he cares for you deeply, Hal." She lowered her head. "And yet, that distresses you," Berjis commented, reading her silence carefully.

Hal rocked back and forth, needing to move some part of her to keep from feeling too idle. Too restless. Berjis, like everyone else, had learned to be patient while she struggled to put her thoughts together.

"I'm…I haven't felt quite like myself around him these last several weeks," she admitted slowly, as if testing the words to make sure they fit. Berjis nodded, and she felt somewhat encouraged to continue. "I care for him too, but lately — I don't know what that even means anymore."

"How do you figure?"

Hal grew hot, not wanting to voice how disoriented she felt in his presence. How her body ached in ways that made her both uncomfortable and curious when he touched her. These things weren't her. And if they weren't her, what were they? But if they were her, did she misunderstand the person she thought herself to be all this time?

"Ahh," Berjis said as though in understanding. "I get it now."

"You do?"

"You don't?"

"Do not toy with me, Berjis. Tell me."

Refraining from laughing at her when she was clearly distressed, he instead shook his head and sat back in his seat, thoughtful. After a few moments, he leaned forward again, his gaze steady as it held hers. "Do you remember when you promised me that if I could make you fall in love with me in a year, you would marry me?"

"Aye."

"And in that time, I fell head over heels in love with you." Hal blushed. Not even then had Berjis been so forward with his emotions. She quickly glanced around to make sure no one had overheard and misunderstood. But Berjis did not look concerned. "Relax, Hal. I love my wife. With all that I am. This is not a confession."

She blushed. "I knew that."

"And all the while I courted you, I could see how much you came to care for me. How much you came to value me as a friend, an ally, and a confidant." His smile grew tender, his expression soft as he thought back to years prior. "But for all that time, all my efforts, I would have given everything I possessed, everything, for you to look at me, just once, the way you look at Murtagh."

She felt her breath catch, a chill running down her spine. "And how do I look at him?" she asked nervously, already knowing the answer but needing to hear him say it out loud.

"Like there is nothing and no one else in the world."

Hal blinked, tearing her gaze away to hide her embarrassment. She had more questions than she would have cared to admit. However, Berjis' words, although anecdotal in nature, had made a point that not even she could miss.

"It might not necessarily be that you're in love with him, Hal," Berjis continued, as if reading her mind. "It could be that you're simply attracted to him."

Her body grew hot again. "Celia told me the same thing."

His brows rose in surprise. "You spoke with Celia about this?" Hal nodded. "Then why in the heavens do you have me running my mouth? Whatever she has told you is right."

Hal laughed. "She has truly trained you well."

They shared a smile.

"I know it is your least favorite thing in the world to do, but talk to him, Hal. Be honest with him about how you're feeling so you're not this confused and hurting your friendship all the while."

She flinched. Hurting their friendship. That's what she had been doing this entire time. All the distance she had put between them, the extra steps she had taken to avoid being near him. And it had left her feeling emptier, not better. She feared who she was around him, but that was nothing compared to the loneliness she had been feeling without him.

"When did you become so insightful?"

Berjis laughed. "I have always been this way, you simply never had any questions to ask me. For once, I know more about something than you do." Hal smiled at that. Berjis placed a friendly hand on her knee. "I just want you to be happy, Hal. I always have. And if Murtagh makes you happy, then go to him. Not everything has to be difficult just because feelings are involved. Just think about it. And be honest with yourself when you do."

She nodded. "Okay. I will."

"And before I forget, I owe you an apology as well. Regardless of why I did it, I should have never grabbed you the way I did last night. For a moment, I let my anger get the best of my, and I am an ass for it. I'm so sorry, Hal."

"Thank you, Berjis."

He nodded, shooting her a tight smile as he rose to his feet. Before he had even taken two steps, he turned back around. "Oh, and I think I last saw Murtagh headed towards the beach with Amon and the others. Do with that what you will."

He left her then, waving over his shoulder as he disappeared to tend to his own duties. She sat there until she finished her food and wine, returning the dishes and washing them herself before setting out. She felt a weight with each step she took, her mind consumed with all the ways this could end poorly. But of everything she had heard and all the advice she had been given, she was only certain of one thing:

She missed her friend. She did not know if she could get things back to the way they were before. But she could not carry on without Murtagh in her life. Not like this.

As she reached the edge of the woods that separated the village from the beach, a figure caught her attention and she turned in her head in surprise. "Murtagh?"

He had been ducking down to enter his tent and paused at the sound of his name. Hal strode over to him, nervous because she hadn't quite expected to run into him so suddenly. She had still been running through what she wanted to say to him. "I was just about to look for you — Berjis said you were on the beach with the others though."

He shrugged. "I was going to go but, it didn't feel right." His face turned red. "You were the one who made me want to see it in the first place. It didn't seem right; my first time and you not there."

Her face lit up at his thoughtfulness, at the idea of them going together. "W-would you like to go now?" she offered, feeling nervous that he might still be upset and reject her.

Murtagh smiled. "Lead the way."

…

It was no exaggeration that the beach was perhaps no more than a five-minute walk from the village. And Murtagh spent every second of it agonizing over what to say or do next. They walked side-by-side, but not, he noticed, too close that they touched. And Hal still seemed nervous, but not uncomfortable, which he liked to think was an improvement.

However, when they reached the shores of Illium, he nearly forgot himself. The sun was momentarily blinding, the pale sand emphasizing the bright light. He held up his hand, waiting for his eyes to adjust before stepping out. He breathed, the wind whipping around him now that there were no trees to hold it back. The smell of the saltwater permeated the air, yet it wasn't overpowering, but rather soothing. The water was the exact shade of Hal's dress from the wedding. How had he missed this when he and Thorn had first arrived?

He turned, amazed, and found Hal watching him. He felt rather self-conscious of her gaze, but not because he feared her judgement or that she would tease him. It was like her eyes were examining him, taking him in piece by piece. She had always had a studious look when she watched him, like she was trying to understand him. But this gaze felt different. He felt bare before her, exposed. And he hated the way he didn't hate it.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" he offered. She blinked as if she had forgotten he was there, which was funny, considering.

"Yes, please," she said quickly.

They waited until they reached the banks, the water coming up to their feet, before taking off their shoes so that they didn't burn their feet on the sand. They walked quietly, each taking in the scenery around them. With the lack of trees around them, he could not help but notice how windy it seemed, their hair whipping around their faces, Hal's skirts twisting around her legs. She walked with her gaze straight ahead, and Murtagh couldn't think of a single thing to say to her. Yet, though the silence was fraught with all that remained undiscussed between them, there was a familiarity and comfort in the silence. Hal was someone who he could very easily be in a room with for hours without feeling the compulsion to talk because her mere presence was comfort enough.

But Hal suddenly shouted in surprise and took off running towards a flock of brightly-colored birds further up. Murtagh stared in confusion as she ran them off, shouting and frightening the ones who attempted to return.

He noticed her gaze and moved closer to discover what she was protecting. He sucked in his breath at the delicate, baby turtles making their way to the sea. They were all particularly small, struggling to crawl towards the water and making them easy targets for the predators.

Thorn —

I'm already on my way.

Murtagh snickered at the thought, but stood guard by the hatchlings near the front as Hal stayed near the back. Thorn circumnavigated Berjis' village so he wouldn't be seen. Hal shouted in surprise when the dragon appeared overhead, then burst into laughter as he scared off the birds, snapping at them mercilessly and leaving the turtles completely safe to make the trek home. It was, perhaps, a little risky, as they were not that far from the village. But the sight of the dragon brought an ease back into Murtagh's being.

When the turtles reached the water, Hal threw her head back and cheered. Thorn attempted to mimic her sounds, and she laughed at his efforts.

"You were bloody brilliant, mighty dragon," she said, praising him sincerely with a graceful bow. "May no bird ever make the mistake of crossing you again."

Will the littles ones be okay on their own? Thorn asked.

He projected the question into both Hal and Murtagh's minds, and even Murtagh found himself moving closer to hear her response, curious. Her smile saddened a bit. "It's hard to say. There's a whole world in the ocean that I don't know as much about. I'm sure, just like any land creature, they will face their fair share of obstacles. Some will make it. Some will not. But the ones who do will one day return to this beach, and lay their eggs. And I or some other mad person will be there to scare off as many predators as we can so that the young ones may have at least a fighting chance to start."

"You do this often?"

"Not often. But if this nest was here, there are likely others further up the bank. They hatched rather early, which is probably why they were so frightfully small. And smaller ones are usually easy targets because they're easy to pick off. But Berjis' village actually does an amazing job of keeping watch for the turtles. I've brought the children from our village before to help. It's almost like a tradition."

"Will you do it again this year if the other nests hatch? I would like to come, if so."

She smiled. "Of course. We'd be more than happy to have you."

He nodded, grateful. But he was unsure of why he needed to behave so formally around her. Hal began to look uncomfortable as well, staring out at the ocean and carefully avoiding his gaze. He didn't want this. Didn't want to see her stiff back and tight shoulders. Didn't want this heavy silence sitting between them. But he didn't know what to do. He didn't want to approach her and say or do the wrong thing that pushed her away again.

Hal turned completely away from him as Murtagh stared at the small trail the turtles had left behind. "What was her name?"

There was no context, no follow-up question. And yet neither were needed — Murtagh knew exactly who she was talking about. There was a slight pang in his chest at the thought of her. At one point, he had scryed her almost every night, wondering if she thought of him the way he thought of her. Such habits and thoughts had long faded, and he wondered what that meant for him now.

"Nasuada."

It was the first time he had said her name aloud in years. And he felt like it might be his very undoing. If she recognized the name as the queen's, Hal didn't say. Murtagh watched her carefully — well her back, since that was all he could see of her.

"Why don't you ever talk about her?"

He felt his shame creep up on him, bearing on his shoulders, weighing him down. He felt like he would forever walk around shackled to it. The thought that he had ever hoped to be free of it felt laughable.

"I love —" He shook his head and sighed. "I loved her once. And under Galbatorix's orders, he would have had me kill her. She led the Varden against him, taking over after the death of her father. I couldn't bear the thought of carrying out her execution, so I convinced him to let me take her instead. I convinced him that she was more valuable to him alive than dead. And he agreed, because I was too stupid to realize what I had done. So instead of leading her execution…I…I aided in her torture."

He couldn't even look at Hal as tears blurred his vision at the admission. Nausea rolled through his stomach a sob burst forth from his chest, and his emotions got the best of him as he began to weep. Nasuada was always his biggest regret. His biggest shame. He had been so far gone that he had convinced himself that he knew what was best for her. And until she had spoken the words — I cannot forgive, but I understand — some twisted, small part of him had held on to hope that she might one day be able to return his feelings. But to say it out loud, and to Hal no less, that he had aided in the torture of the woman he loved. After Hal herself had been tortured by the Ra'zac. He was pathetic. No, worse than pathetic, he was sick. The fact that the same hands that had branded Nasuada with irons had even touched Hal. He had been worried about her having to ever wield Zar'roc and yet his own tainted skin had never crossed his mind. He felt like he had spoiled her. Ruined her. Just like he had ruined Nasuada.

MURTAGH!

It took him a moment to realize the voice in his head was not Thorn's. He looked up to find Hal kneeling down beside him, tears streaming down her face. He hadn't even realized he had fallen to his knees in despair. She looked afraid, but not of him. For him. She was gripping his wrist, and he realized he had been pulling at his hair. But she looked too afraid for that to have been all he was doing.

"P-p-please don't," she begged, her voice uneven. He looked past her, at Thorn, who held his gaze with acute sadness of his own. Murtagh felt nothing across their bond, and he realized Thorn had cut himself off to hide away from Murtagh's grief before it overwhelmed him too. But he had let Hal in. Had allowed her to feel what Thorn could. No wonder she seemed so distraught.

Hal's hand dropped from his wrist to his shirt, fisting the material as she tried to shake him. But she was overcome with such emotion that she could not put the weight into it.

"I need you," she sobbed. "Thorn needs you."

"Halen —" he began.

"Murtagh, please let me speak." She cried even harder, and Murtagh felt nothing but contempt for himself. He had done that. Put her in such a miserable state —

"I said shut. UP!"

He stopped thinking every thought simultaneously, not realizing she was still connected to him. He blinked at Hal, somewhat frightened at the fury in her tone. In her eyes.

"This ends right now," she seethed, still blinking back tears. "Stop letting him in your head. Stop letting him win."

"Hal —"

"Would you have tortured Nasuada if Galbatorix had not corrupted you?"

"No, but —"

"Would you have led his armies if he had not corrupted you?"

He closed his eyes. "It's not that simple."

"Nothing in this life ever is, rider. But I asked you a question nonetheless."

He shook his head, his eyes downcast. "No."

"No," she repeated. "It doesn't make it right, but at the end of the day, your actions were still a result of what was done to you. And I can't imagine, how hard this all must be. To try and find an ounce of control after enduring something like that. I can't imagine having that sick son of a bitch in your head, trying to protect Thorn and yourself from his wrath. I would've been so scared. To not have the privacy and sanctity of your mind. For his words to become your actions, and for those actions to become your legacy when they were not of your doing. I can't even imagine it and I hate that that is your reality."

His face twisted in agony. He didn't deserve her sympathy or her kindness. And yet her words pierced his heart all the same. Because she did not look at him with fury or disgust, or even pity. And he knew then that he could never make this up to her. He did not think he could put into words how much this meant to him.

Hal settled down in the sand in front of him, taking his hand and opening up his fingers. He blushed like mad when she placed it over the top of her breast and he jerked his hand back, but she held on tightly. Then he realized with an even harder blush that she wasn't helping him in feeling her up, but rather trying to get him to feel her heartbeat. His throat bobbed nervously as he tried not to notice how soft she was under his palm.

He grew quiet, feeling how her heart pulsed under his fingers. Strong, a little fast at the moment, but very much beating with life.

"You did that," she said in a low voice. "Your very existence is the reason I can still wake up every day surrounded by the people I love. Your very existence is the reason Thorn wanted to hatch. Not had to. Wanted to. He was so in love with you, Murtagh. He showed me, when I was ill. I felt it. Do you know how special it is to choose your family?"

She moved closer to him now, taking his face in her hands so that he was forced to meet her gaze. He kept his hand over her heart, feeling an attraction to the beat under his fingers, how it mirrored his own.

"That baby dragon, with no knowledge of the world, chose you. And he will follow you to the ends of the world if you asked him to. So please, if only for his sake, do not think so little of yourself. It breaks his heart. And mine."

Murtagh struggled to see her words with clarity. But it all still felt so hazy. Unreachable. Would he ever truly know such joy? Such happiness experienced by those around him. Hal gingerly wiped at his face, her fingers enchanting him. She had always had such soft yet capable hands. Fingers that had healed his broken body, gripped his hand, stroked the hair from his face as he fell asleep. He took her hand in his, turning her palm out and turning his head to press his lips to her skin. He felt a burn in his chest as she inhaled sharply. He allowed his lips to linger longer than acceptable before pulling away to curl her fingers over his, leaning forward to kiss her knuckles. Slowly. Sweetly.

He did this to her other hand, taking his time, feeling how she trembled when his lips found her skin. He felt so many emotions, his grief that his past made his time with Hal feel so hard. He always felt like he was burdening her, bringing her down with him. The light to his shadow. And yet, she never seemed to let that sway her. The darker he felt, the brighter she shone. She enchanted him, and all he wanted to do was stand beside her without fear holding him back.

"Don't let him win," she repeated, her voice softer now. "Do not let him have power over you."

Hal leaned forward when he was done kissing her hands, pressing her forehead to his. He could feel her breath on his skin, her lips tauntingly close. But he couldn't bring himself to close the distance between them as she nestled herself into his arms. He knew, without any doubt, that if he kissed her, when he kissed her, there would be no going back for him. And he wanted to, so badly.

"I want to be stronger," he whispered, more to himself. But he wanted her to hear him. Wanted to say the words aloud to give them meaning. So that they may take up space and find life in the air around him. "I will get stronger," he continued. "For Thorn. For you, Hal. For the Tenari. And for me. But…I just need more time. And if you are willing to wait, then I would like to discuss what is changing between us."

He feared her response, unsure if she would reject the notion. Reject him. But all she did was curl up tighter against him, making his body flush at how soft she was. "And I will be there, for every step and misstep you make. I will be there. And I will wait." And then, to his delighted surprise, she repeated her phrase in the Ancient Language, and hope and warmth blossomed in his chest where just a moment before, misery and doubt had attempted to reclaim him.

Thorn moved to sit behind them, curling his body around them and blocking off much of the wind. In that moment, Murtagh had never felt more cherished as Hal wrapped her arms around his waist, sitting on her side with her head resting in the crook of his shoulder and neck.

I'm sorry, Thorn. I never meant to cause you such distress.

I know, young one. And there is not much to say that Hal has not already. But just remember — no matter how far you fear you may fall, nothing you do will ever make me love you less. Hal is right — you are my rider, and I will follow you, always.

Murtagh squeezed Hal tighter, closing his eyes as a few tears worked their way loose, falling into her hair. I love you, Thorn.

And I love you, Murtagh.