A/N: Feels like I'm long overdue for a quick "Thank You!" Thank you for reading, following, reviewing, and all those fun things. It means the world. As always, I hope you continue to enjoy. And just as an FYI, the end of this chapter is brought to you by the letter L for lemon. Or M for Mature. Because we're all adults here, right?

Happy reading.

"What are we looking for again?"

"It's in the book, just check where I've marked it."

Murtagh tsked in irritation. He refrained from explaining to Hal — for the hundredth time or so — that she had almost every page in her book marked. He decided in that moment to give up helping. She hardly needed him anyway. And if she did, she would call to him and tell him exactly what she wanted him to do.

For the past few asks, it's been to simply stop talking.

He couldn't complain though. She had warned him that when she was out searching for plants and herbs for Mennes, she did not like getting distracted. Certain flowers had to be pulled at the right time of bloom, roots had to be cut at the right angle, and there were signs of infection that were easy to miss and dangerous to humans if ground up and served as medicine. So no, she could not talk and she was not easily distracted.

He stayed close, observing her with a faint smile on his face as she worked, completely unaware that he was even doing so. He liked watching her be in her own world. Truthfully, he also just liked watching her. And she certainly seemed in slightly better spirits than she had as of late. Whatever had been making her frustrated that last couple of weeks, she seemed to have made peace with it since they had left this morning. They had traveled on horseback to the western part of the island where Hal intended to fetch most of what she needed off of Mennes' list. The trees grew much further apart here, the sun beating down on them with extreme intensity. But Hal thrived in it as she always did. He quietly joked to himself that she could've been an elf in a past life — he had never seen anyone else more inclined to nature as she.

"Ah-ha, there you are you!"

Murtagh had to refrain from laughing out loud, although Hal probably would've ignored him otherwise, as she started digging in the dirt near the base of a tree.

"Rider, bring me one of the things from over there."

"What size?" he asked, knowing by now what her vague and unhelpful directions were now alluding to.

"The smaller one. Quickly please."

He tossed her the vile she needed, holding on to the cork after she had fussed him out earlier for leaving it on, costing her valuable seconds because it then had to be removed. He had then taken all of the corks off the bottles to avoid further insult to his character and intelligence.

She stuck what seemed to be her entire arm into the base of a tree trunk, straining to reach whatever it was she need. He stood before her, and she shot him a silly grin. "You have never looked more beautiful to me then you do right now."

She threw her leg out to kick him, which he easily dodged with her limited range of movement. "Ass," she said with laugh. "Got it!"

She scrambled back, her arm up to her elbow coated in a thick syrup-like substance, but it was almost clear in color. "Sap," she explained with a grin, holding up her now full bottle so that he could see. "It's used in your favorite medicine to help treat severe infections."

"Ahh yes. The liquid fire."

She smiled. "It's quite harmless now —"

"That or you have a high propensity for pain," he said, gesturing to her arm.

"— but when you heat it under high temperatures, it's healing properties kick-in."

"So, it's actually liquid fire?"

She threw her head back and laughed.

As they walked to their next, nearby destination, Hal forging along up ahead and muttering to herself as she read through her list, Murtagh reached out for Thorn. Aww, is Hal not showering you with enough attention? Thorn teased.

Shut it. You know, you're getting just as mean as she is.

I will tell her you said that. And she will also take it as a compliment.

At that, Murtagh had no doubt. How are you faring where you're at?

Quite well, actually. I found a wild boar to occupy my hunger. I will probably head back to the village in another hour or so.

He felt a sticky hand on his chest and Murtagh stopped and stared at Hal who placed a calm finger to her lips. He kept still as she went to the horses, stroking their noses gently, keeping them calm and still. Panic seized him, but when he reached for his sword at his hip, she quickly shook her head and moved her eyes up ahead. Whatever was coming that was cause for such silence, she did not want them armed, which ruled out Ra'zac as he had first suspected.

Just then, a small litter of lovuk pups came running out from between the trees, making for the river. They lapped joyfully, still too sweet and young to make any sort of menacing howl. But the lovuk that followed close behind them was a different story entirely.

He could feel Hal's hand on his chest, keeping him calm. It was perhaps the only reason he had not instinctively gone for his sword anyway out of sheer panic. And she had the other on Murtagh's horse. Nani was clearly more accustomed to such nerve-wracking run-ins. Murtagh didn't dare move, hardly breathed as the mother spotted them and stared them down, gauging whether or not they were a threat. He had not seen a lovuk this close since the attack where he had saved Hal, and although she had said repeatedly that that wasn't normal behavior, he couldn't help but notice that this particular female was about as big as the horses and could crush he and Hal under her brute weight alone.

But Hal looked absolutely calm and in control of the situation. He had longed to see her in action, and he realized that he was. A hunter, fierce and capable. She had known the signs that lovuk were coming before he had even seen the creatures. And now she stared down the lovuk as if talking to the female, two proud women measuring the power and strength of the other.

The lovuk mother finally turned away and took her drink from the river. It felt like hours that they could not move, and the lovuk gave a final lingering look as she and her pups disappeared back into the trees. After several long moments, Hal reached for her bow and an arrow on her back, nocking it. "Stay here and watch the horses," she told him. "I'll make sure she's gone."

He felt in awe of her as she moved slowly, keeping low to the ground, her arrow ready to fire with confidence. She would not miss, he knew. He found himself hardly anxious as she disappeared briefly, making sure the lovuk were truly gone before they continued forward.

"Ahh, son of a —!"

Murtagh rushed forward. She didn't sound hurt, just irritated, but concern still egged him on as he dragged the horses behind him to where he heard her swearing colorfully.

Hal emerged right in front of him, shaking her boot with a look of annoyance. "I stepped in a heaping pile of their shit," she whined.

Murtagh coughed, revolted, as the smell hit him. He pinched his nose. "I feel like the luckiest man alive right now," he gasped, eyes burning as she got closer.

"I will smear this on your face, do not test me, Morzansson."

She continued to grumble as she tried to wipe the bottom of her boot on the bark of a nearby tree. When she was satisfied, she placed her hands on her hips and grinned. "Wasn't she magnificent?"

He smiled. "Yes, she was," he said, thinking nothing of the lovuk.

"I mean, I was worried for a second when I realized I could hear the pups. Mothers are never far behind — always remember that, rider —and we had no place to go. I mean, if she attacked us, it may have had to come down to magic, because female lovuk are dangerous, especially near their little ones. But one of the reasons I didn't want us to draw our weapons is because I didn't want her to immediately see us as a threat. You even move to lower your sword and she could've mistaken it for an attack and pounced. Me and the men ran into one once a few years back, barely had time to get our asses in the closest trees before she was on us. And all because one of the pups got excited when it saw the dead squirrel in my hand that I had caught for my lunch and ran towards me. She nearly took my leg off in the attack. I did get a pretty interesting scar out of it though. At least that's what Cado said to make me feel better."

Murtagh thought carefully, trying to recall if he had seen such a scar. Like perhaps when she had been sick and he had cleaned her. Or, he thought with a blush, a moment when he had run his hands across her skin.

"It's here," she said with a laugh, as if knowing exactly what he was thinking. He looked up and swallowed, suddenly feeling a different kind of tension. She had pulled part of her shirt up, revealing the top of three, claw-like scars just below her hip, disappearing underneath the waistband of her trousers. It was such a vague part of her skin to see, she didn't even lift her shirt past her waist. Yet his face still burned a shameful color of red as she said, "It's not too bad, she only got a few inches out of me. Hurt like fire though." Hal looked up then and noticed how hard he was staring at her, and seemed to realize exactly what he was thinking at the same time Murtagh became embarrassed by it.

But he also couldn't look away. Nor did he want to.

Hal watched him, as if waiting to see what he would do. And he wanted to pin her against the tree and have her right then and there. Hal made him want many things. But he felt selfish for all of them. And that wasn't who he was anymore. At least, that's what he told himself every single time he forced himself away from her.

"It's getting harder, isn't it?" Hal asked. And he did not need her to clarify what she meant.

"It is," he agreed, his smile pained. "But I wish to do right by you. And we said we would not consummate anything."

Hal nodded, looking as disappointed as he felt. "I know." The same look of frustration she had been wearing before returned, and it was like a slap to the face at how suddenly obvious it all seemed now. To the high heavens, was he that dense?

He looked up, embarrassed by his own naivety. "We should uh…start heading back. Before we're late for dinner."

Hal blinked and glanced up at the position of the sun in her sky. Her features transformed into shock. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit, we need to go!"

"Hal —"

"No talking, start riding. So help me, Denu is going to kill me if we are late!"

She seemed strangely frantic, but she climbed on top of Nani and took off with haste. Murtagh, not having a moment to spare, followed before she left him behind.

…

By the time they made it back to the village, it was practically sundown and they were late for dinner with Amon and Tena. Hal was pestering him to hurry as he put the horses away.

"It's your bloody fault we're running behind," Murtagh hissed as they ran to the hut. "You said this trip was supposed to take you a few hours."

"A few turned into a lot, how are you surprised by this? Look at who you're talking to."

He snorted. She had him there.

"I already picked out your clothes for tonight. Tena should have laid them out for you while we were out," she said as she ducked into the woods.

"Wait, where are you going?" Murtagh asked.

"Back to the hut, let's come this way."

"Why? We can just cut through the center, it'll be faster."

"Yes, but I have no desire to run into Tena and explain why I'm not ready. Do you?"

He paused. "Through the woods it is."

Hal, who was filthier than a child who had been rolling in mud, would have to bathe in the river. Denu warned them to hurry as he was leaving, saying he would meet them there. Murtagh couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw Denu and Hal exchange a look, which unnerved him whenever they did since the old man couldn't see. How they did it, he would never know. But they were just simply that close.

Murtagh was finally clean, brushing his hair out when he saw the clothes that Hal had picked out for him and paused. They were nicer than he had anticipated. The material of the trousers and vest felt like silk, pressed and a deep shade of red like Thorn's scales. The color felt intentional, and his lips twitched. He pulled on the pants first, setting his towel to the side.

As he was pulling his arms through a simple tunic, he heard Hal laughing. "You're still not dressed? How did I beat you?"

She appeared in front of him, and he sucked in his breath as he took in the form-fitting dress she wore. Her sleeves hugged her arms and stopped at her wrists, and she wore a gold band around her bicep. Her dress was a dazzling shade of deep green. As she quickly went through the buttons on his shirt, he could not take his eyes off her. Her hair was still damp, and she had pinned part of it back, but left the rest hanging down. She looked so achingly beautiful, and he could not get the sight of her from earlier today out of his head. She was like two different people, crawling around in dirt one moment and standing before him looking like the daughter of a royal the next moment.

When she finished the last button, he leaned down and kissed her, hungry. He pushed her back against the wall, her small gasps making him suddenly more aggressive. He felt like his chest was about to burst. He needed her. He ached for her like he never had before.

"We have to go," she breathed, and he delighted at how quickly she succumbed to him, sounding distracted and aroused as he pressed forward, kissing her neck.

"I'd rather stay," he grunted. "We'll lie and tell them I was too tired to attend dinner."

"Hmm." She seemed to almost be considering it when, "No, Murtagh stop!" She was laughing, but he pulled away. "Hurry, put on your vest and sandals. This is important, we have to go."

"Don't get me wrong, because I love Amon and Tena," he began, doing as she said, "but why?" When he was done, she took his hand and pulled him out of the hut. She was moving quickly so he decided to stop slowing her down intentionally.

"You'll see."

"Hal —?"

She led them right past Amon and Tena's hut, which was empty and still. In fact, many of the huts were, which was highly unusual for the evening hour. Everyone should be inside for dinner, getting cleaned up after returning from the day's chores. Murtagh felt his throat grow tight, unsure as to why. No, because he suddenly had an inkling as to why, but he was too afraid to hope.

"Halen?"

But she did not stop. Not until she finally reached the center of the village. Not until Murtagh could see for himself why a trip that should've taken Hal a few hours suddenly took an entire day.

Hanging above their heads, tied down to wooden beams planted deeply in the earth, was a banner with childish handwriting that said WELCOME HOME MURTAGH AND THORN! There were tiny handprints around the banner, and Hal turned back to him and said, "The children wanted to make it themselves."

Murtagh finally looked down, blinking past his tears as hundreds of eyes gazed back at him, Thorn's included. Everyone was beaming, knowing by his shocked expression that they had successfully caught him unaware.

"We wanted to surprise you," Hal said in a low voice. "Thorn as well, but it looks like he came in early."

"We asked him not to tell," Cado grinned, coming forward.

And I was still very much surprised, Thorn assured her, speaking into her mind and Murtagh's directly.

"You did all of this?" Murtagh gasped, barely able to hide his emotion as he looked back at Hal.

"It was a joint effort," she said with a nonplussed shrug. "Everyone wanted to help. We just hate it took us so long to remember. You and Thorn should've gotten this ages ago."

He let his eyes drink it all in for a moment. The hanging lanterns that decorated the beams and nearby trees. The smell of meat roasting, ready for consumption. The hundreds of grinning faces looking up at him. A party. They were throwing him and Thorn a party. He began to laugh, and then began to cry. And then he was laughing again. He was sure he sounded a bit mad, but no one looked at him that way. He could've sworn he saw a few people already wiping their cheeks.

"Ah, Layla," Hal called, and the girl eagerly rushed forward, a big smile on her face. "Why don't you take Murtagh up front so that we may begin."

The girl nodded and reached for his hand, so tiny and trusting in his. She began to pull him through the crowd of people when he stopped her, just for a moment. He turned to Hal and took her face in his hands, fighting every instinct in his body that said to screw everything and kiss her in broad view of everyone. But he refrained, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I do not deserve you," he said quietly so that only she could hear. He sniffed. "I don't deserve this."

She smiled, touching his cheek softly. "Yes, rider, you do. You really do. Now go, before Layla throttles me. She has been waiting for this for two weeks."

He thought he would cry again as the girl took his hand and pulled him forward through the thick crowd. Hands reached out as they went through the crowd, soft touches, gentle pats, and firm grips. Brief, yet multiplied by dozens felt like an outpouring of love and acceptance that he had never before felt. May that kiss be the first of many, softer touches your body receives. At one point he felt his knees give out and he stumbled. And suddenly Amon was there, lifting him up like he weighed nothing.

"Don't worry, rider," the man assured him. "We've got you."

They led him to the front where Denu was standing at the same dais where he had performed the wedding ceremony, waiting with a smile so welcoming and warm that it felt like staring into the sun. The crowd parted so that Thorn could stand beside Murtagh, everyone else fanning out around them to see. Hands still gripped his shoulders, his hands, his legs, and his back. As if to say they would not let go. Not for anything. And he saw that hands had also been placed on Thorn as well. Hal appeared before him, standing beside Denu with an expression so overjoyed and bright that Murtagh thought his heart would burst with affection for her.

"Murtagh and Thorn," Denu began, his voice naturally booming over the crowd of people. "Welcome back. Or — should I say — welcome home." Murtagh felt his eyes fill with tears again. "I must apologize, as this ceremony is long overdue for the two of you. I will blame the oversight on my old age. Halen, here, has no excuse."

The crowd laughed as Hal playfully slapped his shoulder. But he could see in her sheepish smile that she was thinking that Denu wasn't wrong. She had simply forgotten. And he suspected their conversation from before, about Murtagh finally seeing this place as his home, reminded her.

As everyone quieted down, Denu continued. "You both have shown admirable fortitude and resiliency during your time here. Your compassion, humor, respect, and friendship has meant much to all of us gathered here today. You have made your way into the hearts of the Tenari. We are honored and humbled that you have decided to make our little village your home. And we hope you will stay a while."

Denu nodded to Hal, who reached back and procured an item, wrapped, that she held in her arms. She was already crying quietly, biting down on her lip to hold it together, and Murtagh would understand why when Denu spoke next. "I admit, this is not a ceremony we do often, as we do not get many strangers here. However, the last time I stood here, right where you stand now, rider, was a fifteen-year-old girl. And the day she formally asked to join our village was the same day I asked her to join my family. And now, I proudly ask that same young lady, to please step forward, and present the newest members of the Tenariono Village, with their gift."

His eyes never left Hal's as she closed the space between them. When she was standing before he and Thorn, close so that they both could see, she gestured for Murtagh to hold out his hands. He did, and she placed the soft bundle in his arms. She undid the string, pulling back the wrapping to reveal a blanket. She had him hold two corners, and then carefully unfolded the material, making sure it didn't touch the ground.

"It is a gift we give to our new villagers or new families," Denu continued. "Each patch was created and stitched by every household. So that even if the day comes where you are no longer with us on Illium, there will be no place you go, that we are not with you."

Murtagh's tears blinded him, and he fell to his knees, overwhelmed as he took in each beautiful patch that was adorned. He saw stitches of plants and animals, Thorn breathing fire, the sun and moon, and more. He pulled the blanket in, piece by piece until he was cradling it all in his arms, hugging it to his chest.

Hal kneeled down before him, her eyes bright with understanding. "You are so sensitive," she teased, wiping her own cheeks as she laughed.

"Do not mock him, Hal," Eli berated from nearby. "You were way worse than he is."

"She cried so hard," Cado explained, "those in the back thought she had suddenly gotten injured."

Hal unfolded like lightening, ripping her sandal off her foot and poising it to throw at both men when Tena's sharp warning stopped her in her tracks. While everyone laughed, Layla whined, stomping her foot. "Hal, I want to show them our dance!"

"Yes!" Denu said, clapping his hands together once. "We have food, we have wine, we have music, and we have dances. Let the homecoming celebration begin!"

The cheers went up around him as people began to move about. Hal returned to his side, watching he and Thorn with something akin to hesitation. "Was it all too much? I realize I could've gone for a smaller scale celebration but once people started to catch wind of what I was planning, they all wanted to help."

Murtagh still hadn't quite found his voice, like the shock still hadn't quite worn off. Thorn chuckled, speaking for them both. It is perfect, Hal. It is absolutely perfect.

She relaxed, beaming so brightly with happiness that she hurt to look at. Murtagh felt himself begin to calm down, feeling like the weight was returning to his body. Hal wiped his face, and without thinking, especially with so many people around, he turned his head slightly and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, surprising her with the barest of kisses. Then he took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm, lingering a few seconds longer than acceptable to make sure he could convey what he could not in words. He could not kiss her lips. Could not touch her the way he so desperately wanted to right now. And right now, if he did not control himself, he feared he might throw caution to the wind.

He made sure his eyes lingered long and hard, even after he had lowered her hand back to her lap. He felt her shiver and knew she understood what he had not said aloud. Then she cleared her throat as if remembering there was a party going on, currently without them.

"Come along, dragon and rider," she said, clearing her throat again as she rose to her feet. "You heard the man. Let the celebration begin."

…

The party continued long into the night and into the wee hours of the morning. But Murtagh could hardly entertain the notion of sleeping and missing a moment of the spectacle. The villagers had shed their inhibitions, the celebration seemingly more grandiose than any other Murtagh had attended before. Several bonfires were lit as people danced. Food was prepared in a hearty fashion, barrels of wine and something stronger were brought out, with several reserved strictly for Thorn who crooned his appreciation. The children performed a dance, or perhaps a skit was more appropriate. Of course, Layla was Hal. And he was delighted and embarrassed to find that they were reenacting Hal's rescue of him — with startling inaccuracies.

He turned his head. As the guest of honor, he was kneeling in the front with the best view of all. "Hal?"

"Hmm?"

"Why on earth do they have you riding Thorn? And…is that meant to be an army of lovuk?"

"They have such active imaginations," she with a straight face, deftly ignoring his doubtful gaze as she took a sip of her wine. "Can't imagine where they get such ideas."

"Did you really have to call it the Kiss of Life though?"

Hal actually looked surprised and impressed. "That actually was not me. They must've used a bit of creative improvisation for that part."

"You think that was the creative improvisation? Really, Hal?"

She shrugged innocently and Murtagh, laughing, vowed to never let Hal tell another story about him again.

Many, if not all, of the villagers made a point to approach Murtagh and Thorn with some small gift of welcome throughout the course of the night. Many were beads and clothes, some were breads and meats that had been carefully preserved and wrapped, along with baskets of fruits and vegetables. Hal loudly delighted in not having to hunt for a while. His favorite was Layla's: blood red flower petals pressed and preserved on a small piece of parchment. She handed it to him shyly, and he quickly kissed her cheek and she dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Dance with me!" Layla said, dragging his arm towards the bodies moving in sync to the rhythm of the drums.

Murtagh quickly dug his feet into the dirt, bashful. "Oh no, Layla. I can't."

"You only danced with Hal last time and that's not fair. Your Lieutenant Commander Warrior Princess commands you to dance!"

But before he had a chance to argue, he was pushed forward and stumbled. Layla used his momentum to yank him towards her and he realized in horror he was once again in the middle of the celebration. Layla was patient with him, although he became so nervous about stepping on her feet that he hardly looked up. By the time she was tired enough to let him rest, he was popping the stiff bones in his spine from being hunched over because she was so small.

If he dared sit for a breather, people were thrusting drinks into his hands. He took them out of politeness and although they were good, he did not want to get drunk and make a fool of himself. Unlike Thorn who was roaring obnoxiously and hiccupping, all the while humming incessantly through his mental connection with Murtagh. The rider, although pleased his dragon was so happy, blocked him out.

"Are you enjoying yourself, young man?"

Denu sat down beside him and Murtagh smiled. "More than I ever have. Thank you, Denu."

"Oh, do not thank me. You deserve this because you earned it. I am quite proud of how far you have come. And I am quite honored to think of you and Thorn as part of my family, as I do with Hal."

The words were almost too sweet to bear, and Denu laid Murtagh's head on his shoulder while he fought the urge to cry again. "We all have a choice in life," Denu continued, his voice strong and low, but clear despite the noise around them. "And those choices can sometimes lead us astray. But I've always told Hal, that even when we are at our lowest, our choices can still, eventually, lead us to something good if we have the patience to see where they take us.

"You and Halen have endured your fair share of miseries and heartbreak. And I have come to see Hal thrive and endure like a flower in a storm. You have done the same as well. Be proud of that. And remember that, despite where you've been in life, this man is the man we see before us. And we celebrate him tonight."

Murtagh sat up, running his hand down his cheeks to find his composure. "May I ask —?" He cleared his throat. "May I ask why Hal's was so many years after her arrival?"

Denu's smile was sad but he nodded his head. "What she lost — it took us a while to earn her trust. Took us even longer to earn her love. But I think, Rider, that it took her all that time to realize that it was okay to move on. We never wanted to force the option on her. Never wanted her to think that we could ever replace what she had lost. But I think, when it happened, was perfect."

Knowing what he did about her past, Murtagh couldn't agree more.

After Denu stood to continue mingling and finding more sweets to snack on, patting Murtagh on the back as he left, Murtagh glanced around. He realized only then that he had not seen Hal for some time, which was unusual. Usually his eyes just gravitated towards her as if her very presence pulled him in.

As if knowing he was looking for her, he felt the barest of touches in his mind, hesitant and careful, seeking permission. He would recognize her mind anywhere now and gently lowered part of his shields as an image of his room flashed across his vision. She withdrew and he rose to his feet.

No one seemed to notice that he had left, and he realized that the sky overhead would soon be growing light. He smelled of smoke from the fire, his skin pleasantly warm. But all he could think about was who waited for him a short distance away, having called to him.

Hal was indeed in his room, having lit a torch so that there was just enough light for them to see. The shadows of the flame danced across the room, the light softening Hal's features, her brown skin aglow and her eyes vibrant. She rose, already barefoot, as he entered, and his stomach clenched at her shy smile as he closed the door behind him.

He would not take her here, he would not take her here, he would not take her here, he had to keep reminding himself. But his hunger for her had grown to obscene lengths, and just the thought of her under him made him wanton.

When he was standing before her, her smile grew playful. "Hello."

Murtagh grinned ridiculously. "Hi."

"Are you enjoying yourself, rider?"

"Immensely."

"Good. Because now I must ruin your party by presenting you with my gift. And I must ask that you refrain from laughing."

Ha! She could present him with a sock and he would be inspired to move mountains. But rather than showering her with sentiment, he teasingly threw back, "I may laugh, so I cannot make any promises."

Her eyes danced. "I am a terrible influence on you."

"The absolute worst."

Her smile was so charming that he could not help but lean down and press his lips to hers, his stomach rolling, his heart racing madly under his tunic. Only when she didn't move to touch him like she normally would did he realize she had something hidden behind her back. Curious, he slowly ended the kiss, raising his head in delight at the breathlessness on her face.

"So," she began, speaking once more, "I originally intended this as a sketch. But Invidia saw what I was doing and she actually helped me turn it into a fairth. So that it would last longer. And she was kind enough to put some added spells on it to make sure it was not easily damaged."

Even though he could not see it, he could hear the blush in her voice. And her nervousness was so endearing that he knew he would not dare laugh unless the fairth had a literal joke inscribed on it. When she hesitated, he stepped impossibly closer and asked, "May I?"

Her eyes flickered up to his, and something in his chest stirred again. Something sweet and frightening in its hold over him. And the longer she held his gaze, the stronger that feeling became. In fact, even as she looked away to reveal the object behind her back, Murtagh found himself bursting with desire to tell her the only secret he had left to tell her. But he clamped down on the notion for now, not wanting to lose a second of this moment as it was.

She handed the parcel over and he gripped it firmly in one hand while the other unwrapped the thin cloth covering it. It was a stone tablet, and he let the cloth fall to the floor as he turned the item over and felt like the air had been kicked out his lungs.

He was looking at an image of himself and Thorn. And he recognized the scene immediately: it was on the clifftop, when Hal had taken them to see the sunrise as a thank you. Their faces were only in profile, but the likeness was so striking that Murtagh raised his hand to the tablet in awe. The sharp features of his nose and cheeks were so much like his father's, the shape and color of his eyes so much like his mother. But the hope and wonder in them were all Murtagh. There were lines of worry around his eyes, tension in his shoulders, a firm hand on Thorn's side as the dragon was captured in the moment he had roared his gratitude. Hal's eyes had not missed a thing.

"You are not the same man you were many months ago when I first found you," Hal whispered, her hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. "And it was in that moment that I knew you had changed. That you had hope for your future, and for Thorn's. And I wanted you to have a way to always remember what that looks like. I wanted you to have a way to see your face the moment you knew you were capable of more than what you had been led to believe. You are stronger than you realize, Murtagh. And you have inspired me in ways I did not think I could be. And now, with this fairth, you can never forget it. I certainly won't."

"Is this…is this truly how you see me?"

His voice wavered with stunned emotion, but his eyes were surprisingly dry. She smiled and nodded. "Do you like it?"

He stared at her, dumbfounded. Did he…like it?

He set the fairth down carefully on the nearby table, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her without warning or pretense. She immediately responded, wrapping her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He could feel all the ways in which he was responding to her touch, and her to his. But something in this kiss felt different. He couldn't put his finger on it, and he wondered if Hal felt it to. It was a subtle shift, but something about it made him feel bolder. More daring. Hungrier.

His stomach was coiling tightly like a snake, perhaps from nerves, but his mind was clear and sharp, focusing on the sweet taste of her lips and tongue. He pressed her up against the wall, his hands running down her breasts, taking them in his hands. He kneaded them gently at first, then harder as her kisses became more aggressive, arching against him as if to ask for more. And he was more than happy to oblige. She whined into his mouth and the sound made him struggle for composure. He wanted to kiss and caress her until he discovered what other sounds she would make.

He felt her hand between their bodies, and something told him to look down. His knees went weak. She was trying to rub herself between the material of her skirts. "Murtagh," she panted, twisting her hips against him. "Murtagh, I want you to touch me."

He felt himself twitch in arousal her words. He knew she didn't mean her back or stomach. As exploratory as they had gotten, there was still a manner of awareness in every touch and kiss. In the beginning, he had thought it was simply to make sure they did not go too far and risk her honor. But the longer they had carried on as of late, the more he realized it was easier to maintain a sense of control so long as his touches were of innocent areas or above her clothing. So, to hear her command, to see her hand between her legs, made him dizzy with a new kind of need. "What?"

"Please," she begged, arching against him once more for added effect. His face turned beet red, his breathing hoarse as his eyes followed her every move. "It is not breaking our promise. We will not consummate anything. But you are driving me slowly insane and I'm tired of doing it myself all after the fact. It's not enough for me anymore."

It took him several long moments to process what she was admitting to him. He pictured it. Pictured all the times she had rushed out of his bed like she was embarrassed of how aggressive they would get, thinking it was just a means of remaining chaste. He swore to himself, coming to realize she had been leaving to touch herself. And that she was so emboldened by him to say so…

His fingers drifted teasingly along the top part of her hips. "Are your sure?" His voice was already husk with lust. "You would be okay with this?"

"Would you? I know this is rather sudden. But I feel like I'm not the only one who has been wanting more as of late."

He shook his head. "No, you are not." He licked his lips slowly, feeling less resistance to the idea. "Is this cheating?"

"I don't know. Probably. But, truthfully, I don't care. I would have all of you if I could." Heavens, she knew how to make his head spin. "But since the risk it poses is too great, I will gladly take what I can get."

He was quiet, but not because he was still hesitant. But because he had never heard Hal sound so…uncontrolled. Desperate even. And he realized that he had never had such sensual power over anyone before. But he preferred that it was Hal, and only Hal. This was hers. He was unequivocally hers. And he could not stop thinking about what she could've possibly been fantasizing about every time she was alone with herself.

He was losing his head a bit, and he took her hands from around his neck and pinned them above her head, unsure as to why. Compulsion, really, his body moving almost of its own accord. But it was Hal who held power over him, her words and figure goading him to action. But heavens, he didn't mind it one bit.

"What sort of things did you think about when you were alone?"

His gaze drifted down, taking her in slowly. The way she looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes, face flushed and mouth parted. Chest heaving with anticipation.

"Do you dare me to be so presumptuous?" she teased, her own voice having dropped in octave in her lust.

"Absolutely."

She bit down on her lip a bit, and he could see how she steadied her nerves. This, he knew, was making her feel vulnerable. He leaned forward and kissed her again, letting her hands go so that he could cup her cheek. The other hand snaked down to her thigh, and he broke the kiss to ask, "Did I touch you?"

It took her a moment to catch her breath. "Y-yes."

He ran his lips up her jaw, whispering in her ear, "Tell me how."

She turned her head to look at him, eyes wide as though trying to gauge if he was serious or not. And he absolutely was. He knew his imagination couldn't do him justice. They locked eyes, silent. Hers were shining, unwavering. At first, he thought she was suddenly doubting herself. And he feared that perhaps they were going too far.

"You would lift up my skirt," she finally said, her voice a nervous and eager whisper. "Sometimes slowly, like you were teasing me. Sometimes quickly, like you could not wait any longer."

He watched her for a moment, and he could tell how hot her face was. Panting like a beast in heat through his nose, he slowly began to raise the hem of her dress, letting the material collect around her waist. He couldn't take his eyes off her, captivated by the gravity of the action. He moved slowly, and he was unsure as to if it was because he was nervous or if he was teasing her. Perhaps both. But Hal never looked away either, although he could tell how eager she was becoming.

"And then you'd cup my knee, like you always do, to spread my legs." This time, he reached down and did just that, stepping between her legs. And Hal reached out and gripped his tunic, the small gesture throwing her a bit. He could tell she was wanton. Could practically smell it on her.

"And then what?"

"Your hands…your hands would always touch me first."

His fingers drifted close, brushing the inside of her thigh lazily. "Like this?"

She shook her head. "Closer."

Murtagh continued to run his fingers along her skin, patient, sensing her nervousness. He knew this was as new for her as it was him, and it was a bold next step in their relationship. Their eyes met and he leaned in and kissed her, slow and sweet. He felt her hand between their bodies and his kiss became more aggressive, eager. He ran his tongue across her plump, lower lip and she opened her mouth for him, his tongue seeking and finding hers.

Her hand found his and guided him precisely where she wanted him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the contact, his knees almost buckling with how slick she was. Hal cried out enthusiastically at his touch and he felt how her entire body shuddered. "Dammit, Hal," he gasped.

"For you," she panted, her voice shaking. "Only for you."

Gods above and below. Those simple words just robbed him of his remaining sanity. She told him where to put his fingers, instructing him on how to touch her, when to touch her. His ears burned pleasantly as he tried not to faint at the sound of her pleasure, at the sight of her body responding to his touch. How many nights and early mornings had she made these same sounds into her pillow while thinking of him? The idea of what he could be doing to Hal in her fantasies made him ache to make dreams into reality. When he pushed a finger inside her, Hal swore so violently that he would've moved his hand, fearing he'd hurt her, had she not been holding onto it already, refusing to let him pull away. Even in his wildest dreams, he never could have imagined how warm she would feel, or how achingly soft. She pulled his head down to kiss her neck, and he easily found the spot he knew she liked.

"Murtagh," she gasped, her hips moving in sync with his hand. Her body shuddered and she threw her head back and groaned again, her nails pressing into his back. "Murtagh."

In that moment, he would've done anything she told him to. No questions asked. He succumbed to her completely, wanting to beg her to say his name like that again. And he suddenly remembered that she had told him his hands always touched her first. And he groaned with understanding and want of his own. Without thinking, he dropped to his knees, propping her foot up on his thigh. Before she could react, he removed his hand and replaced it with his mouth.

Nothing prepared him for the taste of her, and he shuddered as something lightly rippled through him like a shock to his system. Hal's knees buckled, and her fingers reflexively tangled themselves in his hair for support. And he got his wish sooner than expected, his name falling from her lips with desperation and eagerness. Her entire body was shaking as his tongue carefully explored the soft, wet folds between her legs. Hal's cries of encouragement emboldened him, and his mouth became more aggressive.

She suddenly became tight and let out a surprised cry as she rocked her hips into his mouth. He didn't stop, looking up at her through his lashes. She was a true sight to behold, her body taut with the pressure of her release. Her back arched off the wall, her skin hot as the fingers in his hair briefly and suddenly tightened their hold, then, moments later, slipped from his hair. Only then did he move away, confident she was done.

She said his name again, weakly, her eyes still closed as she struggled to catch her breath. He rose to his feet, surprised that he knew exactly what she wanted. He kissed her, their lips slow and passionate. They were both shivering in surprise and delight, and Hal began to laugh, eyes shining and shy, grateful. And he felt equally lightheaded, grinning back at her.

"As good as you imagined it?" he asked. Under different circumstances, he might have had the decency to be humble. But nothing about her reaction led him to believe otherwise, and her eyes were still half closed, her expression almost dream-like as she said, "Better. Definitely better."

He could tell her legs were weak, and he helped her to his bed and laid her down gently. They lay there, lips locked for a little while longer. Her hands untucked his tunic so that they may rest on his stomach, and he sighed at her touch. Then she rolled them over with a surprising amount of energy and smiled against his lips. "I want to touch you now."

Too flustered with desire to respond, Murtagh swallowed thickly and nodded. Her lips were teasing and gentle as they explored his neck and chest, her hands playful, her tongue suggestive. She undid the buttons of his tunic, one-by-one, as she drifted lower and lower down his body.

"Now," he began, his voice catching a bit, "how come you can undress me but I did not get to undress you?"

"Because," she said, shooting him a knowing smirk, "I'm a lady."

His nearly choked on his laugh, distracted when Hal lowered her head to continue what she was doing. He didn't think it was possible to feel vulnerable and exposed, yet safe and desired all at once. His skin burned when she touched him.

"You are awfully quiet, Shur'tugal," she said, her fingers on his trousers. "Tell me: what do you want?"

There was an ongoing battle in his mind with whether he should answer truthfully. It still felt selfish, asking for something like this even though it was obvious Hal wanted it just as desperately as he did. Her eyes were watching him steadily, and for a moment, he just wanted her to kiss him. But she ran her hand over his crotch and he shuddered at the feel of it. After that, the words came much more easily, and it didn't take him long to tell her what he wanted. And Hal made a low noise as she began to undo his belt, her lips kissing his stomach while she worked.

He felt like he was seeing stars when she took his length in her mouth. She was careful, moving slowly and gently. Though as inexperienced as he, Murtagh was fighting not to push his hips as his eyes rolled. She felt so good. Her mouth felt so welcoming, if not simply overwhelming. He felt her tongue and his stomach rolled and he let out a low sound from the back of his throat. He shuddered again, and opened his eyes just as she looked up at him. The sight was incredibly erotic, and Hal's gaze was bright with such genuine compassion and affection that he came, her name falling from his lips like a prayer.

Her lips were gentle while he tried to catch his breath, kissing him as he softened in her hands. The room felt impossibly warm as she moved to lay beside him. When he felt like he wasn't going to pass out, he rolled over and kissed her, trapping her underneath him. "That was definitely better than I imagined it could be," she groaned, pleased with herself.

He kissed her briefly before pressing his forehead to hers, understanding her need more than ever. "Do I even want to know where you got the idea to do this?"

She gave him a wicked smile. "You have truly never gossiped with the women of this village — especially the older ones — until they are swapping the most profoundly inappropriate stories your innocent ears will have ever heard. Especially when they are instructing a woman in preparation for her wedding night. Fortunately, I learned early on that there are plenty of ways to give and receive pleasure."

"Remind me to send them flowers then."

She elbowed him gently in the stomach. "And what about you? Clearly your depravity knows no bounds."

"If my depravity will get you to say my name the way you did then I will swear before the gods that I am the lowest of the low."

"You're an idiot."

But her smile was so wide, he knew she was only half serious. He leaned forward and kissed her brow. He cradled her cheek in one hand, content to hold her gaze as he brushed his lips against hers. "You are not what I expected, iet dunei" he whispered, once again feeling the weight of his words as he said them.

Hal nervously bit down on her lip, her fingers carefully brushing the length of his arm. Her expression was one of caution, and it seemed ill-fitting considering the moment, until she asked, "Why won't you tell me what that means? You have been using it more and more."

"Have I?"

"Don't be smart, you know you have."

"And you haven't asked Blödhgarm or Invidia?"

She grew embarrassed. "Well…I started to think, perhaps, it was a private matter. I didn't want to involve them."

Murtagh smiled, unsure as to why he didn't want to admit to her the translated meaning of the words. He just laid there, pushing her hair from her face, gazing at her and feeling like a fool and a king. How quickly she had spoiled him for anyone else. How unexpectedly her very presence had taken a hold of him. She was truly not what he had expected to find when he agreed to come to Illium.

Hal, with her sharp tongue and complete lack of propriety when she was emotional, quick to anger and difficult to understand because of the shields she put up around herself. Hal, who had rather smile to hide her own pain to make sure those around her felt safe. Hal, who had shed more tears for him than anyone he had ever known. Hal, who loved so deeply that sometimes she forgot herself. And she would give all of herself to anyone she cared about.

Even him and Thorn.

He blinked at the realization because he knew it to be true the moment he had thought it. The notion slightly frightened him: he did not want any harm to come to her because of or for him. But to know she would do what she could for his happiness, for Thorn's — her promise to stay by his side rang through his head and he felt his chest tighten with emotion. And his heart raced with something beyond lust or friendship. A secret only he knew.

"Murtagh?"

There was a crease between her brows, furrowed in concern as she watched him. So many emotions slammed into him at once and he fought against them, blinking back tears as he smiled at her. A few fell regardless, and she sat up, her concern for him obvious. Warmth filled his chest at the sight and he leaned forward and kissed her, leading her back down. She briefly hesitated, probably unsure if she should kiss him back or inquire into the current state of his wellbeing.

He pressed his hips against hers, feeling her hands on his back. He kissed her until he forgot himself. Her taste, her smell, her touch, the sounds she made, and the warmth in her gaze. Something had changed, and he knew what exactly it was. But rather than dwell on that, he decided that he would rather have another taste. And he broke the kiss and slowly began to lower himself between her legs once more, rewarded by Hal's intoxicating and surprised whines before he even touched her.

Finally, he knew what heaven was like.