Murtagh watched Hal carefully from his spot leaning against the doorframe. She had not acknowledged his presence for nearly half-an-hour, and Murtagh had long since forgotten why he had come to her in the first place. She was sitting by the window, staring out at the overcast sky with the same expression she had worn for the last week since the funeral. She had hardly moved from her spot, still as a statue and just as quiet. Her mental shields had gone back up, preventing Murtagh from reaching her at all.
He wondered what she was thinking about.
"How is she?" Invidia asked as Murtagh stepped out of the hut, shoulders hunched against the onslaught of emotions.
"Same as yesterday. Same as the day before."
His tone was biting and harsh, and his shoulders slumped at Invidia's still expression. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I did not mean to take my frustration out on you."
She shook her head. "No apology is necessary. You have suffered as well, and I know none of this is easy for you."
Murtagh felt his vision swim, but he blinked back his tears. "I don't know how to help her. I don't know what to do or say. I don't..." His voice broke and he quickly silenced himself before his emotions got the best of him.
Invidia placed a hand on Murtagh's shoulder as he wiped furiously at his cheeks. "It is not always knowing what to do or what to say. It is about simply being there. That was all Denu did for her when she was a child. He simply made himself present in her life. Now you must do the same. And like Denu, you will not be alone. We will help you, as will the rest of the village if they can."
Murtagh nodded, salvaging the rest of his composure at Invidia's words. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he whispered, staring up at the pale, early morning sky. "I keep replaying every moment over and over and over again, wondering what I did wrong. Wondering where I made the mistake that caused all of this to happen."
Invidia shook her head, her blonde hair moving slightly at the gesture. "You didn't do this. We both know the cost of war."
"This wasn't war," Murtagh said in a low voice. "This was a slaughter. Calculated and cruel. It's as simple as that."
The elf sighed. "I suppose you are right. But it does not mean it was any more your fault. No one blames you for this. And no one will. What happened to Denu and the other victims is no one's fault but Thea's."
Murtagh didn't respond, and in the silence, Ayo and Blödhgarm approached, covered in a fine layer of dirt and sweat. They both nodded silently as they came to stand beside Invidia and Murtagh.
"We finished excavating what remained of Denu's hut," Ayo explained in a gruff voice. "We placed all the materials outside, if you would like to come take a look."
"You finished?" Murtagh blanched in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me, I would have helped."
"We did not mind, Shur'tugal," Blödhgarm countered gently. "We didn't want you to overwhelm yourself by the process. You too deserve to grieve for what you have lost. And it is imperative that you remain with Halen when you can."
Murtagh tried to find the strength to argue, but it quickly left him. His body still felt an alarming sense of numbness yet heaviness these last few days. Like it didn't know what to feel. The littlest things easily tired him out. If he was not with Hal, he was with Invidia and Blödhgarm, trying to heal as many of the injured as he could. The process was…difficult. Even when the villagers tried to smile and thank him, he could see in their eyes that they were just as sad and lost as he. The joy of the village that Hal had fought so hard to protect had been ruptured.
He followed Ayo and Blödhgarm to what remained of Denu's hut, Invidia promising to remain with Hal until Murtagh returned.
"It wasn't as bad as we first assumed," Ayo explained as they came to the neatly laid pile of scavenged items. Each were separated by owner: Murtagh, Hal's, and Denu's. Murtagh, having only been there a few months, did not have much. But he was relieved to see that his blanket gifted to him by the Tenari, while dusty, but unscathed. He took it so that he could pack it later in his bag with Thorn — who had been keeping close to the children to ease their nerves and worries while adults were occupied with more stressing matters.
For Hal, there were stacks upon stacks of books, most of which he was glad to see had made it out as well. "Can we place these somewhere where they'll be safe from the elements?" he said, looking at Ayo then up at the sky, which was steadily growing grey.
"Aye, consider it done," Ayo said. "There's a storage shed by the stables; they'll be safe there. I'll get some of the men to help me move them."
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it. I reckon these books will become encyclopedias someday." But his smile did not quite meet his eyes.
There were a few of Hal's spare trousers, tunics, dresses, and nightgowns that Murtagh neatly folded and set aside with his blanket. Then he moved on to Denu's pile. His vision blurred once more, but he forced himself to look through what remained of the man's clothing and other items. There was a small jewelry box, and Murtagh's eyes widened when he opened it. Inside was a beautiful, green gem, about the size of his thumb. It was nestled inside a broken locket, but the beauty of it was not diminished despite the rusty chain that encircled it.
"Ah, I remember that necklace," Ayo said sadly. "Denu showed it to me once. It belonged to his mother. He told me that she gave it to him as a wedding gift. He and Isa meant to pass it along to their children, before they realized they couldn't have any. Denu must've forgotten he had it — otherwise I'm sure he would've given it to Hal."
Murtagh did not think the old man had forgotten — he was too sharp for that. No. He suspected Denu was simply waiting for the right moment — whatever that may have been.
"Would it be wrong of me to hold on to this?" Murtagh asked, thinking quietly.
Ayo seemed to puzzle over it for a moment. "I don't see why it would be. What do you plan to do with it?"
Murtagh had no earthly idea. But something told him to keep it.
By the time he had gone through everything, taking what he thought was needed and having the rest tucked away for now, it had begun to rain. There had been very few rainstorms since Murtagh had come to Illium, but he welcomed the warm downpour and dark clouds. It was hard to feel so depressed when the nature itself seemed to mock him with its cheery blue skies and perfect weather.
"Murtagh!"
He turned to find Eren running towards him. The boy was breathing rather heavily, but spoke quickly. "The elf, Invidia, told me to tell you that Hal was up. They headed that way about fifteen minutes ago."
Murtagh thanked him and followed his pointing finger through the village. He moved at a slow jog, frowning and anxious. Hal was up? Was something wrong or had Invidia forced her to move? People were quickly retreating inside, out of the rain. They closed their doors, their reed mats lowered on the windows. It felt strangely quiet, the rain growing heavier and soaking the ground. It was a small miracle, as it began to wash away the remnants of blood splatter on the ground.
Murtagh should have guessed where she'd be. He slowed to a stop, keeping his distance. Invidia was still close by, but she had given Hal space as she walked towards the children who were more than happy to continue playing in the rain. Layla was holding her hand, walking her around, and Murtagh suspected she had dragged Hal out of the room. It looked like the children were playing some variation of hide and seek, but some were simply content to splash in the puddles that were quickly growing along the grassy field.
Thorn caught Murtagh's eyes and Murtagh could feel that the dragon was happy to see him through their bond. The children climbed on him, giggling as they boldly jumped across his back. The sound was infectious, beautiful even.
One of the older girls, Nesbeth, spotted him and waved him over. Murtagh tried to politely decline, but there was no escaping them once he had been caught. They dragged him over despite his insistence that he wasn't quite in the mood to keep them company. But they refused to listen, running endless circles around him with an energy that exhausted him even though he had hardly lifted a finger.
"Murtagh, bet you can't catch me!" Layla squealed. He half-heartedly reached for her and she easily dodged him. "Come on, you can do better than that."
He was goaded by the others as well, and he shook his head. They all stood there, crestfallen, when they realized he was serious.
He grinned.
The group screamed in surprise and delight when he suddenly took off after them. They darted away from him, the smiles on their faces quickly charming him, making him feel lighter than he had for some time. He easily snared Meri, who was waddling on tiny legs. She squealed in laughter as he tucked her under his arms.
"HEEEEELP!" She cried, laughing as he ran around, laughing manically. "Save me, Thorn!"
Thorn stomped his feet as if to charge Murtagh, and the rider turned to face his dragon. "You would betray me, Thorn!"
The children gasped at the sudden turn of events.
Thorn growled menacingly.
"Get him, Thorn!"
"You can take him!"
"Don't actually eat him, Thorn!"
Murtagh straightened a bit, rather affronted. "Is no one going to cheer for me?"
They rolled over in laughter and Murtagh cried in despair as he rounded on Thorn. "You have turned the little ones against me! You will pay for this!"
He took a step towards Thorn who snarled lightly so as not to startle the villagers. The children all howled as if charging into battle, and Murtagh's face actually fell in concern as they rushed him with eager and delighted faces. He quickly moved Meri so that she was pressed against his chest as he was surrounded and pushed off his feet. He slipped in the slick grass, attacked and defeated by a screaming herd of muddied children. He grunted as they clamored over his chest, but he didn't mind.
"Release him at once!"
Everyone turned in surprise as Hal stepped forward, hand held out in warning. But to Murtagh's surprise, there was a hint of playfulness in her gaze as she eyed the children one-by-one. "Let him go, or I will place a dangerous curse on you."
"You will never defeat us!" Layla said, jumping to her feet. "We have the might of Thorn on our side?"
Hal grinned. "Are you sure about that, fierce warrior?"
As if on cue, Thorn came to stand behind Hal, crouching down as if prepared to attack at her command.
"Thorn has been tricked!" Nesbeth cried.
"We must rescue him!"
So, you'll pick Hal's side but not mine? Murtagh chastised over their bond. Thorn snorted in laughter.
"We must defeat the evil Captain Hal," Layla commanded. "Soldiers, to your positions." The children rose to their feet at a surprisingly quick and coordinated rate. What was Hal teaching them when she watched them? "Chaaarge!"
Hal squealed and took off running, keeping her speeds just slow enough that the children felt they would catch her, but just fast enough that they couldn't. Murtagh watched, his eyes enraptured in wonderment. Hal was laughing and smiling, running around the field and shouting about how they would never catch her. But that only made the children chase her harder, their arms and legs pumping with determination.
Murtagh knew it wouldn't last. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. But it was something. And he was loathed to miss it. He scrambled to his feet as Hal ran towards him. She turned, as did he, so that they were back-to-back.
"We are surrounded," Murtagh shouted as the children circled them with triumphant grins. "We should surrender and beg for mercy!"
They cheered at that.
"Never," Hal countered, her voice unwavering. "We must fight. But careful — they will look to deceive you. Do not let them trick you."
"Any last words?" Layla said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Murtagh leaned back so that only Hal could hear him. "Seriously, what have you been teaching her?"
Hal only grinned, shouting, as the children attacked.
…
The rain was coming down heavier now. There had been a slight break around noon, but it had picked up once again later in the afternoon. Muddied and tired, Hal and Murtagh had dragged themselves back to the hut to clean up. After washing off at the river, Hal bathed first, then Murtagh. When he emerged, dressed in a clean set of clothes, Hal was back in her chair, staring out the window with a sullen expression.
Murtagh had known it wouldn't last. But it hurt to see how quickly she had fallen back into despair. He laid down in the cot, exhausted. There was nothing to be done for the rest of the day until the rain ceased, and he felt himself grow drowsy as the heavy drops fell in a soothing rhythm.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, he felt the cot sink down beside him. He opened his eyes, scooting over some as Hal laid down beside him. She buried herself in the crook of his arm, and his fingers tangled themselves in her hair, still damp. They didn't move or speak, but he listened to the sound of her breathing with rapt attention as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
…
Hal felt like she was drifting in and out of consciousness. There were moments of intense clarity, like the funeral or when she was playing with the children in the rain. And there were moments of such darkness that she would feel as though she had forgotten where she was or what had happened. She was aware of figures in and out of the room where she had been staying, but did not care to acknowledge faces or names. She barely ate and could not sleep. She felt as though she were merely existing, but even that much became too exhausting for her.
She felt like she was trapped inside her own memories. Conversations with Denu, moments that, at the time, had felt insignificant were analyzed and stripped carefully by Hal. She could not help but fear that she had not done enough. Had not helped him enough. Loved him enough. Had she told him she loved him recently? Had she thanked him for all he had done for her? Did he know, even in those final moments, that she would have given almost anything to save him?
Almost anything.
Except…
Hal turned her head to gaze at Murtagh's sleeping figure. After that day of playing with the children, after crawling into bed with him, she had gravitated towards him every time he laid down to rest. And he always seemed pleasantly surprised when she did, as if he dared not get his hopes up. But his warmth was a comfort to her, and it was hard to ignore when he lay steps away from her. They would lay there in silence, both thinking and remembering the old man who had taken them in and given them a home when they didn't have one of their own. The man who had never asked for anything in return, not even their companionship or their love. But he had received it all the same.
Hal was scared. Thea had sought Denu out knowing it would hurt her. But she had been wrong about one thing.
Thea had not taken the one person in the world Hal would die to protect.
It had taken Hal a while to reach this conclusion. It wasn't so much that she loved Murtagh more than she did Denu. She could not — and would not — measure whose life was worth more.
But.
I have done all I have set out to do, Denu had once told her. I have lived a good life. And all that is left for me is knowing that you will do the same, wherever and with whomever that may be.
Hal had spent twelve, wonderful years with Denu. Years she could never repay him for. He had breathed new life into her when she had needed it most. Cared for her, loved her, like she was his own. And as much as it pained her to lose him, at least they had their time together. To grow and to love one another.
She had not yet had that chance with Murtagh.
Hal feared what would happen to her if she lost him now. She feared what she might become. And she had agonized over whether she should sneak off and leave Illium, before it was too late. Before Thea realized that he was more than just a dragon rider to Hal. But Hal did not think she could part with him either.
And he would never let himself stray from her side.
Murtagh grunted in his sleep and Hal found herself smiling sadly despite herself. All the time in the world still didn't feel like enough. But she would not allow him to be taken from her, nor Thorn.
Without thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him, lightly, on the lips. Just because she wanted to. But she blushed in surprise when Murtagh's eyes flew open as she pulled away; she hadn't actually expected him to wake since he was often such a deep sleeper. But considering what had happened, it only made sense that he was more sensitive to any sort of touch or sound.
He blinked once at her, as if also confused as to whether or not what he had felt had been a dream or not. "Hal?"
She felt a tear roll down her cheek at the sound of her name. Hoarse with exhaustion, brimming with tenderness. Even if he was not consciously doing it, she could hear it. The concern for her, strengthened only by his love.
I'm not quite sure of anything anymore.
But that wasn't true. Not really. She was sure of her love for Murtagh. She was sure of his love for her. She was sure of her love for Denu. And she was sure of his love for her. She was sure of her love for her people. And she was sure of their love for her.
What that meant, she did not know. But she was sure of it, of all of it, and she felt a bit of strength as she tenderly pushed Murtagh's hair from his face. His breathing changed at her touch, try as he might to hide it. His eyes never left hers, studying her face with such devotion and care that Hal leaned forward once more and pressed her lips to his.
He was unsure, cautious, as she was still crying quietly. But as Hal pressed her body to his, carefully and slowly deepening the kiss, she felt his caution slip into desire. His hands moved across her hips as hers slipped under the bottom of his tunic. She sighed at the warmth of his skin, delighted in the way he shivered at her touch. His heart raced under her fingertips, beating madly in response to her. She felt hers quicken as well, heat pooling between her legs as the blood rushed to the apex of her thighs. She whispered his name, her breath catching as her desire for him grew.
Oh, how she ached for him in the worst way. She longed to feel his lips across her skin and between her legs. The touch, not to mention the arousal pressed against her leg, indicated that he felt the same way. It felt like ages since they had been intimate with each other like this. Controlled and calculated, yet wild and unrefined. Their breath was stilted in the silence, aware that others slept nearby.
Murtagh gently rolled them over, never breaking the kiss as his hand dove between her legs, seeking the heat between them amongst the fabric of the sheets and her nightgown. She didn't realize how anxious and eager her body had been until his fingers grazed her center, wet and sensitive at the touch. She gasped against his mouth, arching her back at the feel. He moved slowly, carefully, rubbing her gently yet working her, still, into a frenzied state. She wanted to feel him. All of him. Desperately. She needed the relief. The escape. Even if just for a moment.
He knew better than to give her what she truly wanted, which was more than his hand cupping her center. Hal would certainly give them away otherwise. So, she contented herself with the feel of his fingers gently slipping between her legs, stroking her pleasantly. It felt delightful, carefully working her up to release. Their kiss felt like a battle of wills and control, their lips swollen and their tongues dancing and stroking the other's.
She was close, she knew, and she broke the kiss, panting and hoarse as she pulled is head down. "I love you," she whispered, her voice tight as she struggled to speak amidst the throes of her orgasm. "I love — I love you," she said again, the feeling in her body intensifying as she struggled not to cry out. "I love you. I love you." She strained to speak, arching against him, hips writhing in ecstasy, words escaping her as shudder after shudder ran through her. Murtagh was kissing her neck, helping her to come down as she continued to murmur how much she loved him. She was growing tired again, her body limp. It was the first time in a while she had felt so close to relaxed.
"I love you," she said again as he laid her back on the pillow, fixing her gown for her and hiding his face from her with his hair, his head bowed. "I love you," she said again.
When he raised his head, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He laid down beside her and kissed her again. Hal's own tears ran into her hair, splashing onto the pillow. "I love you," she repeated. He nodded, never tiring of it.
Hal closed her eyes as he pulled her into his chest, stroking the hair from her face as her breathing began to slow. "I love you," she said, her voice drifting off as sleep came for her. And until she was out completely, she continued to say it. She wanted to say it as often as she could, she didn't want him to doubt or forget.
Lest she lose him too, and she never got the chance to say it again.
…
When Hal awoke the next morning, the space beside her was already cold, and she rolled over in surprise. It was barely light out. How early had Murtagh woken up? Or perhaps the better question was had he slept at all? Admittedly, after their intimacy last night, Hal was a little stung that he was not here when she woke up. But then again, it was she who had been keeping him at arm's length the last few days. It was she who had cut him out so that she did not have to feel the multitude of emotions she always felt when in his presence. Last night was glorious and temporary. She could not act as though it had fixed anything. Even if it had been her way of allowing herself to feel something, even for a small bit of time.
Unsure of herself, Hal slowly sat up. She didn't know what to do or where to go. Most days, she wanted to be alone. But when she was, she felt a crippling loneliness that frightened her. Alone with her thoughts, her isolation felt maddening. Like she was falling down a dark hole. And the further she fell, the harder, she knew, it would be to climb back out. But if she dared allow herself to bask in the presence of others, she was reminded of how much things would now change. Her village was more cautious and quieter than it had ever been. And she would remember that she had done this. She had brought harm to her people, just like she had the Xano.
And now, Denu was dead.
The sob was out her mouth before she could catch it, her vision blurring as her loss hit her all over again. He was not a figure she imagined death ever coming to claim. His presence in her life since washing up on the shores of Illium had been so unwavering and steadfast, it was as though she were meant to find him. Or rather, he was meant to find her. In the back of her mind, she knew he would not live forever. But why was it that no one in her life seemed to last? Ten years with her family and the Sani village. Twelve years with Denu. Was her time with the Tenari growing to a close too? Murtagh and Thorn?
Hal did not realize her sobs had turned into wails of despair until Murtagh came barreling into the room, looking frantic before he realized that Hal was not in danger, just in pain. And he rushed to her side and swept her into his arms, burying her face into his chest. And as if he had known what her thoughts had been by the way she clung to him desperately, he gently whispered over and over, "I'm here, Halen. I'm here."
She could hardly breathe, let alone speak. And she felt so lost, so helpless, so without hope, that all she could do was cry harder. Murtagh's hands were shaking as he rocked her back and forth, his own teeth clenched together tightly so that his own emotions did not get the better of him. He needed to be strong for Hal. He needed her to know that no matter what, he would be there for her in whatever capacity she needed. And he could not do that if he allowed himself to fall apart.
When Hal finally began to calm down, she and Murtagh were still clinging tightly to each other. Soon, a silence fell over them, a wariness that had not been there before. Not when Hal had first been taken by the Ra'zac. Not when they learned of the Shade's existence. Not even after the attack on the Xano village. Instead, it was like everything from the last few months had hit them all at once. And it was shocking, they were realizing, how much they had truly endured. How much they had lost, and how much they still stood to lose.
Hal looked up at Murtagh, truly seeing his weariness for perhaps the first time. He was always so careful around her, masking his emotions as though he were not allowed to feel as lost as she did. Hal laid her hand on his cheek, and he glanced at her briefly before looking away again. She thought back to last night, how careful he had been to hide his face from her.
She opened her mouth to speak when a knock at the door interrupts. Her train of thought is lost as Murtagh bade the visitor entry, and Ayo stuck his head in, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the council elders have requested Hal's immediate presence."
Hal felt her skin grow clammy. "What for?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
"I'm not sure, to be honest," Ayo admitted. "But I don't think you're in trouble.
Hal was not comforted by these words, but rose dejectedly to her feet regardless. She supposed this was bound to happened eventually. And with the blood now on her hands, she could not hope to maintain the trust of her people now. They would want her gone, and Hal could not blame them.
When Murtagh stood too, Ayo grimaced. "They want to see Hal alone, my friend."
Murtagh looked ready to argue, but then fight disappears as quickly as it had come. "Can I at least walk with her?"
"No, Dragon Rider, you must agonize in misery over her absence," Ayo teased. "Of course you're allowed to walk with her. We just can't go in with her."
Murtagh didn't even seem to hear him, just nodded distractedly. Hal knew he was miles away in that brain of his, and she felt wretched. She had been so wrapped in her own grief that she had not once asked Murtagh how he was feeling, what he needed, how she could help. She had shut herself out. She had shut him out.
"Can't this wait?" Hal asked Ayo. But he just shook his head and said, "They insisted."
The walk to the village center was a quiet one. Hardly anyone was out, preferring to keep to the known comforts of their homes. It's haunting, how still everything felt. How empty. Hal barely managed to repress a shudder, and Murtagh quietly wrapped his arms around her shoulders, as if he knows exactly what she was thinking. She leaned into him, grateful for the small comforts.
Tengene was waiting for her outside the hut, his expression forlorn and heavy. He doesn't bark at her to hurry up like he would have done before. And Hal bit the inside of her cheek, knowing that he was just as distraught as she. Denu was like family to the both of them, and often the only one who could quell their constant bickering.
"Everyone is already inside," he said as Hal moved to stand in front of him. Then he ducked his head and went in.
Hal suddenly felt sick. Desperately, she looked to Murtagh, hoping to convey her utter wish to be sprinted from here as quickly as possible. He leaned down and presses his lips to her forehead instead. "I will be right here, iet dunei," he promised.
She supposed it's better than nothing, and nodded quietly before taking a deep breath. Then she pushed back the fabric and disappeared inside.
…
Murtagh sat outside for what felt like hours. Ayo slipped away to tend to matters with his family, but was stunned to see Murtagh still waiting when he returned. He was joined by Amon, Sam, Cado, and Eli, who were obviously here for support. And though little words were passed between them, Murtagh was grateful for everyone's presence.
Just as the sun was at its peak, the material of the hut moved and the village elders stepped out. Hondo, Chijioke, and Ibrahim were chuckling, looking rather calm, although Tengene was ranting vehemently. "Foolish child, what is there to think about? I thought she was all about acting as quickly as possible?"
"Come now, Tengen," Hondo said lightly, "you and I both know that this is a lot for her to process. Of course she needs time."
"Time we don't have," Tengene reminded him. And then he looked up, as if only just realizing that Murtagh and the others were there. "What do you want?"
"We're just waiting for Halen," Amon said slowly, trying to piece together what happened based on the conversation they had all overheard. "Is she all right."
"I think she's going to be just fine," Ibrahim said with a grin. "But you should go check on her, just in case. She may still be in a state of shock."
Murtagh needed no further encouragement. He rushed forward, finding himself inside the same room where he had sat beside Denu and pleaded to be allowed to stay in the village. Hal sat where he had, legs tucked underneath her. She looked up when she heard him enter, and her eyes were wide with surprise. She blinked as he sat down beside her, taking her face in his hands, his own expression laced with concern.
"What happened, is everything okay?"
Hal opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, nodding quietly. She took a small breath and said slowly, "I told them everything. About the print, discovering the Ra'zac, my magic and our trainings, about what happened at the Xano village, and the Shade. Everything."
Murtagh felt his chest tighten. The men had looked too content to have doled out a punishment. But could Murtagh have misread things? "What did they say?"
Hal's brows furrowed slightly, her confusion obvious. Then she looked at him squarely and said, "They asked if I would succeed Denu as village leader."
Murtagh blanched, stunned. That had been the last thing he was expecting, and he'd had plenty of time to go through many different scenarios. "Halen —"
"I know —"
"Halen that's —"
"Completely idiotic?"
"Wonderful," Murtagh finished at the same time, his voice catching in awe and disbelief. "Hal, that's wonderful. That's…wait, why would it be idiotic?"
"Murtagh, I don't know how to be a leader," Hal chastised, as if this answer were obvious. "And a woman has never led the village. Who is to say I would be well received?"
"Hal there is not a person in this village who would think so ill of you as to doubt whether or not you capable of this. And it makes sense. You are Denu's only family —"
"Not by blood. And the position of village leader is not chosen like a monarchy. It is a unanimous decision made by the elders."
"And did they make a decision?"
"Yes, but it is the wrong one. Denu was good at being patient, and negotiating, and working with others and bringing people together. His strength lay in his h-heart and his wisdom. I could never hope to measure up to him. I would not dare to try. It would not be right."
Hal furiously wiped at her cheeks, but the tears ran faster than she could catch them. "This feels so cruel," she hissed, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Asking me to replace him."
"Hal, I don't think they are," Murtagh said, choosing his words carefully. "Based on your experiences, you are the best fit. You are abreast on the issues surrounding the village, people listen to you, you are protective of this village, you are brilliant, you have strong ties with Berjis and his people…honestly, I'm starting to think that Denu may have wanted you to succeed him all along."
"But he never said anything to me. Why not ask me if this is what I wanted?"
Murtagh didn't want to say it, but the distress in Hal's expression made him loathe to withhold information. He didn't want to presume she couldn't handle the truth — or what he believed the truth to be — just because she was mourning.
"He probably thought he would have more time to tell you," Murtagh said, his throat closing with emotion. "I'm sure he never intended for you to find out this way."
Hal's face crumbled and she let out a choked sob before burying her face in her hands. They sat in silence before Murtagh realized it was just too much for Hal to think about right now. "Come," he said, getting to his feet slowly. "You don't owe them an answer right now. Let's go for a walk, or a ride or something."
But Hal grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down beside her. Her eyes are wide, and there's almost a panic in her expression. "I don't understand, why do you seem so calm about this?"
Murtagh cannot help but smile. "Hal, from the moment I met you, I always knew you were meant for something extraordinary. And I think Denu knew it too. No one cares for this village or its people the way you do. You have risked life and limb to ensure that everyone here feels safe."
"And I have failed spectacularly!"
"The village still stands, Hal. It is not gone. And that's because you helped give it a fighting chance. You tried when it mattered most," Murtagh reminded her. He thought of when their paths crossed again all those months ago in the woods, when Amon and the others had been attacked by the Ra'zac. And Hal had been the only one who dared make the venture out to try and find the men, to help them return home. "Being a leader does not always mean people will like you. Oftentimes, it means people will not. But it means being able to make the choices that are best for as many people as possible, despite that. And Hal, you have more heart for this than anyone I know. But you have to want this. Do not do this because you believe you have to. Sleep on it for a bit. And know that no matter what you decide, I will support you."
She looked so relieved at his words and quickly nodded her head, as if he had given her permission. Murtagh slowly reached out, tucking her hair behind her ear, only then realizing she had yet to put it up like he was so accustomed to seeing. And it made her look so vulnerable that it unnerved him. He kept his hand on her cheek and Hal reached up to cover it with her own.
Her gaze shifted a bit as she studied him. At first, he thought nothing of it until she said, "Murtagh…about last night —"
And he could see on her face the same emotions he had been grappling with. She couldn't even continue to look at him as she uttered the words 'last night' and his own face burned with guilt. It had happened so suddenly he didn't have time to question whether if now was the time. But even in those brief, heated minutes, he had felt something besides this numbing pain that followed him throughout the day. However, he knew immediately afterwards that he shouldn't have touched her the way he did. She was grieving, just as he was. And he didn't like the thought that he had somehow taken advantage of that.
But he didn't want to tell her this. He preferred it, actually. Because he could see in her face that she was worried about him. And he didn't want to add to her burdens by giving her reason to worry. So he pulled her towards him and pressed his lips to her forehead.
"I love you, too," he said, trying to keep his voice light as he forced a small smile on his face. "Since I didn't get a chance to say it then."
Hal didn't respond, and she didn't smile like she normally would. And she seemed to realize that he didn't want to talk about it, and finally nodded her head. "We should go," she said instead. "We have a busy day ahead of us."
And she removed his hand from her face and rose to her feet. Then she turned and exited the tent without sparing a single glance back to make sure he was following.
…
Hal and Murtagh spent the next few days dividing their time between attending the remaining funerals for those who had lost their lives in the attack. There was something crippling about attending the services back-to-back, but Hal never wavered or complained. And she bowed and apologized to every family, even though many were adamant she do no such thing. Neither Hal nor Murtagh acknowledged what went unsaid between them. And those casual touches and stolen kisses began to fade with each passing moment of silence.
At the end of the week, Murtagh knew Hal was exhausted and reaching the end of her rope. She moved slower, and he was constantly catching her digging her nails into her palms when she was trying to distract herself from her emotions. He didn't want her falling ill from stress, and insisted she stay in bed for at least a day.
"You and I both know that I am no good idle, rider," Hal protested, already trying to sit up in bed.
"Well that's too bad," he countered, keeping his voice level. "You need rest. There's nothing wrong with taking it easy, just for today."
"There is still too much to be done. Huts were destroyed because of me, people are too frightened to venture out of their homes, but we'll need to get back into the fields as some point before the crops die out. Not to mention we still need to meet privately with Invidia and Blödhgarm to discuss what we are going to do about Th — the Shade."
He wanted to ask how she could care so much for her village, yet have no desire to lead it. He knew part of it was her guilt. Yet, he had a feeling that if she had received this offer under better circumstances, she would still hesitate. It was obvious Hal should lead. And yet, she had yet to give an answer even though a week had passed since she received the offer. But Murtagh did not ask her any of this, did not speak it. Instead he said, "Does that beautiful brain of yours ever slow down to give you a moments rest?"
She gave him a sad, noncommittal smile, but said nothing.
He sighed. "Fine. But if I think for a moment you are taking on more than you can handle, I'll throw you over my shoulder and strap you into bed myself."
Hal didn't respond with your usual quip, and his face turned pink with a bit of embarrassment. He felt ridiculous, exhausting every effort to ease her pain even though he knew it was not what she wanted. And Hal seemed ready to confront this by saying, "You cannot ignore your feelings by devoting yourself to me."
Her words themselves did not sting, for Murtagh was already aware of the truth. What did hurt was the feeling of being cornered by Hal's unexpected and blunt demeanor.
"I'm fine," he said reflexively, and he flinched as soon as the words left his mouth. And Hal looked rightfully insulted. Sighing, he ran his fingers over his brow. "I'm just trying to help. I just want to help, Halen. I'm not trying to make things harder on anyone, least of all you."
Her shoulders slumped as if in defeat, and her expression softened. "Heavens, rider, you are the last person making anything difficult for me." And then, to his flustered surprise, she reached out and took his hands, pulling him closer to her. She looked up at him with wide, searing brown eyes that threatened his very composure. "I just need to know that you are taking care of yourself as much as you are me," she told him gently. "I've been thinking a bit about it," she continued, her voice softening with each word, "and I know our relationship is a lot different now than it was a few months ago. And maybe it's not as easy to talk to me now as it was then —"
"Never," Murtagh said defensively.
Hal bit down on her lip to hide a sad smile. "Sometimes, the things we are able to tell a friend are not things we can tell our lovers. And that's okay, rider. I do not have to be your only confidant if that is hindering your ability to process what has happened. But if you are not talking to me, please talk to someone. Even if you have to ride out with Thorn to get away for a bit, you will not hurt anyone's feelings. Least of all mine."
Then she rose to her feet and leaned forward to gently press her lips to his. When she pulled away, she added, "I love you."
Her words washed over him like warm water, and he bit the inside of his cheek to hide his emotions, trying not to let his guilt and grief show. But still, he felt something lovely in the words, a light in a time of darkness.
He took her face in his hands, overcome with emotion as he responded, "I love you, too," as easily as breathing. Because he felt none of the fear he had before at the stress of telling her how he felt. Not now, when it still transformed her features, reminding him that she longed to hear it just as much as he did. And to utter such powerful words to Hal was the most natural thing in the world that he could not help but say them again. "Heavens, Hal, I love you so much."
She smiled even brighter at him, leaning forward to kiss him again before darting out of the room to start her day. Murtagh knew she cared about the village, knew she was trying to help. But he worried that this was all merely Hal's way of distracting herself. Of throwing herself into the work, ignoring her emotions despite her insistence that he not do the same. Dare he push her? He doesn't want to insult her by assuming she's fragile, but he doesn't want to just sit quietly when he knows she's hurting.
And it doesn't take long before Murtagh realizes he's not the only one who has noticed Hal's behavior.
"I need you to talk to her, Shur'tugal," Blödhgarm was telling him later that afternoon as they ventured into the forest for privacy. "There is still much to discuss, steps that must be taken. We have already wasted much time staying here —"
"It was not a waste!" Murtagh snapped defensively, recalling the final body that had just been laid to rest the day before.
Blödhgarm held up a hand, face contorting with regret. "I chose my words poorly. I humbly apologize." Murtagh didn't acknowledge it, but the elf continued. "But we cannot remain here knowing Thea is out there somewhere. We must leave Illium immediately."
"Leave Illium?" Murtagh hissed, keeping his voice low as he glanced nervously over his shoulder, paranoid a villager or Hal had appeared nearby. However, he and the elf were so deep in the woods, it was doubtful they would be discovered. "How on earth is that even still option? We must stay and protect the villagers."
"The villagers are not safe so long as Halen remains here. If Thea were to strike again, she will strike where she knows Halen to be."
"And if we leave? Thea could attack out of pure spite. And then we would leave our people defenseless!"
"We would make sure to take proper precautions," the elf hedged. "But you must realize that it is more likely that wherever Hal goes, Thea will follow. Capturing Hal is likely her priority."
"She came after the Tenari to lure Hal in. Hal could've turned after what transpired here. What you are suggesting is reckless endangerment and I will have no part of it!"
"You need to stop thinking like a common man and start thinking like a Dragon Rider," Blödhgarm retorted. "Like the soldier I know you are."
"I am not a soldier anymore."
"This is war, Murtagh, and you know it. And Thea has the upper-hand. We don't know her plans or what she is capable of. She has managed to operate in secrecy right under our noses this entire time. Eragon is gone, and our allies are spread thin across Alagaësia. We need to fortify a plan now, before it is too late."
"You and I both know if I step foot on the mainland, I will have a target on my back. I am still a wanted man."
"There are ways around that, and you know it."
"Those options are not up for discussion. All I know is that Hal has lost more than she should have had to, as have her people. I will not uproot her from the only life she has ever known. Has she not endured enough? Has she not lost enough?"
Blödhgarm's expression softened as he studied Murtagh. "She has, Shur'tugal. She has lost much more than any person has any right to. But she is resilient. And she is not alone. But please properly consider the consequences of what could happen if we stay."
"The risk is just as great if we leave. If I do decide to bring this up to Hal — and that's if — must all of us go? Why can't you and Invidia go?"
"Because Halen still puts the Tenari at risk by staying here. Should war come to this island, and it very well could, Halen will have to live with that. Do you honestly think she could survive such a weight?"
Murtagh did not respond.
"I admit, I had not considered Invidia and myself remaining behind. But it is a possibility. And if it would convince you to talk to Halen about my proposal, then I will keep it on the table as an option."
Murtagh wanted to argue, but rationale was fighting back hard with what he desired. He wanted to remain on the island. It was his home, and Thorn's, and Hal's. Before the attack, leaving had not seemed so daunting. Now, fear threatened to keep him rooted to the island forever. But he knew Blödhgarm was right. If Thea was after Hal and Hal remained on the Illium, then they were guaranteeing another attack would strike.
"I will talk to Hal," Murtagh conceded. "And I will lay out all of our options plainly and fairly. But this is her life. Whatever she decides, I will support her."
Blödhgarm nodded. "That is all I ask."
As the two walked away, back towards the village, neither of them realized the lone figure who had been sitting in the tree, an open sketchbook forgotten in her lap.