Hal frowned, her head and eyes hurting as she strained her focus on the tiny pile of dry twigs and leaves she had managed to procure to practice her magic. She was supposed to be lighting a fire. She didn't even have a smolder.

The hardest part was removing her dependence on the language. Compelled by habit and anxiety, she would either mutter or think brisingr in the hopes that even if the language was useless, her magic would still understand her intention. But the longer she tried, the longer this pathetic pile mocked her. She could've lit a hundred fires by hand in this time.

You managed to heal Murtagh's shoulder, Thorn reminded her. He sat a little ways back with Baldor and Albriech per Hal's instructions, still wary that her magic would go astray. They had already traveled outside the walls the city, just to be safe. Hal would take no risks. But the cold and snow had begun to seep through her clothing, and she knew she could not bear it much longer.

I don't know how I did it, she whined. I just…did. I called on my magic, I remember focusing on my intention and his healing. But I don't think I fully processed what I was doing.

You think the pressure is preventing you from using your magic, Thorn realized.

I should've never agreed to try and scry Eragon. Everyone is depending on my being able to get in touch with him, but I can't even light a meager fire.

You are still early in your healing and you have much on your mind. Do not bear the weight of everything on your shoulders. You still gave us hope by realizing what you did, regarding the possible extend of Thea's curse. That alone was more than we managed to figure out in the months you were unconscious.

I just get so frustrated. Thea makes using our magic look so easy. Meanwhile, my strongest spells have been compelled by moments of extreme emotion. That's also when my magic is at its most dangerous. Finding that balance is difficult.

Well, you scrying Eragon is not our only option. If we must come up with another solution, then we must come up with another solution. For now, let's return to the keep and get you warmed up. You've been out here for hours and you could get sick.

Hal regretfully complied, following the others back into the city. She knew her nerves and fears were holding her back. She found it difficult to pretend like they didn't exist. As she reiterated her recent failure to Murtagh later that evening, he more or less told her what Thorn had.

"I know it's frustrating, iet dunei, but this could be your body's way of telling you you're not ready. Mental blocks are common, even if we don't love them. Sometimes our subconscious has ways of trying to protect us that we can't skip past or ignore."

"But if Eragon can help, or even send help, wouldn't that be for the best of everyone? I feel like I'm letting people down."

"That may be how it feels, but that does not mean it's what's real. It took some time, but we have managed to find some stability thanks to support from nearby cities. You've seen the citizens for yourself: they are strong and they are surviving."

"I know that, but it will not be this way forever. And it's not just getting in touch with Eragon. What if Thea attacks again, or the Black Hand —"

"Technically, they can't use magic either."

"You know what I mean, though, don't you? Until we get magic back, this city and its people remain vulnerable. You and Thorn remain vulnerable. I just keep feeling like no matter what I do, I'm never strong enough. Everyone else makes it all look so effortless. Meanwhile I continue to struggle with the most benign of tasks and spells. I pale in comparison to what Thea is capable of."

Murtagh didn't say anything at first, letting the silence deepen between them. Finally, he rose to his feet as he began to speak. "You've been telling me since you woke that I've seemed different."

"Because you are," Hal responded without much thought, unsure of where this was heading.

He smirked. "I admit that I felt different, but it wasn't until you said something that I knew for sure. You, who never misses anything, saw changes in me almost no one else did. And I owe it to you," he admitted. "Because while you were healing…I finally decided to read my mother's diary. All of it."

Hal sat up with alarm, her face showing she didn't know whether she should be excited-happy or nervous-sad, and he seemed guilty for laughing a bit. "But…but, how? When were you able to see the text? What did it say? What did you think?"

"You were right: it was the closure I needed. Honestly, reading it gave me the strength to finally move on from that dark time in my life and all of its uncertainties."

"Oh, Murtagh." She took his hands back up in hers, her expression grieving. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

Hal blinked. "I…I assume she rejected you?" She winced, wishing she had phrased it better.

"Hal. Did you not read it in its entirety?"

She shook her head, rather embarrassed to admit that despite her deceit, she hadn't even really learned anything. "No, I couldn't. What spare time I did have to go through the pages, I got too nervous whenever she mentioned you and wound up skipping around. I don't think I could've stomached knowing the truth."

He laughed softly, shaking his head at her. "You miss much when you do that, my love." He stood up, grabbing the book out of his bag, flipping calmly to the very last page. Selena's final words. "Read here."

He set the book in her lap. But she never looked away from him. "Not that I don't want to but...what does your mother's diary have to do with my magic?"

"Just read and find out."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. Read."

He continued to stand, suddenly a bundle of energy and needing to pace. Hal took a deep breath and started from the top. There was no introduction, no indicator as to what one might expect. And while he paced, he watched Hal as she read to herself.

I did not believe in fortunes. I thought them cheap and pathetic. People spending meaningless coin to be told what they wanted to hear. It seemed only for the weak and pitiful and, I admit, until I met the strange herbalists in Tierm, I thought myself sound in my judgement to never need such a thing.

But my future was forever changed by the witch. Angela, she called herself. A most peculiar and fascinating woman. When she offered to read me my fortune, I was skeptical but bored. I anticipated with pleasure that she would reveal herself to be a crock and I could alleviate my boredom by calling her out.

Ha! She played me for a fool indeed.

That decision, I now know, became the cause of my agony. I wonder how my life would have fared had I not met her. Had I not stopped to talk to her. But I did, and it sent me down a path that, from the moment I fled her tent in fright, I knew would be the end of me.

When Angela read me my fortune, she unveiled the truth that would come to pass because of the many cruel and selfish decisions I had made. Two sons — the only time I wept with joy when in her presence to learn that I would have another child — two sons, raised apart. One in light and one in shadow. They would meet in the future as allies. And then again, as enemies. One would find purpose and meaning. The other, darkness and despair. I begged her, nearly forced her hand, to tell me how to change this. I don't know why, but in my heart, I believed her. But I was desperate to prove her wrong. At the time, I only had Murtagh, and he was not yet a year old. Even torn from my arms by Morzan, he was mine. The moment I saw his eyes — my eyes — I knew I would move mountains for him. Heaven and earth itself even.

But she would not say. Said it was not in my reading. Instead, all she could tell me was this (and I have never forgotten it since): One son was meant to achieve greatness. The other, peace of mind. Heavens, I truly almost slapped her then. What did that mean? What difference did that make? I demanded her to tell me. She just shrugged and said that she was only interpreting what the bones told her. Her final parting words were that it would, ultimately, be my decision that decides this fate. I would be faced with a choice. Once I made it, there would be no going back. I would not live to see if I chose correctly. My children would never know me. They would never have a proper memory of me telling them, with my whole heart, they were loved. So very loved.

As if sensing my distress, she left me a cryptic idea to one day put my thoughts down on paper. To pour my soul into a journal. So, when Garrow presented me with this unprompted, I knew then that this was almost the end. For you see, as I write this, I have already made my choice. And for however long I have left on this earth, it will haunt me.

For when I fled Morzan's estate, pregnant with another man's child, I chose to leave Murtagh behind.

When I discovered my affair had led to pregnancy, I knew then why my sons would be pulled in different directions. I knew without a doubt that each would be forced to walk in the shadow of his father. One light. One dark. I wept at the realization, hating myself. I felt like I had doomed Murtagh to a cruel fate. He is such a sweet and timid child. He is nothing like his father. I do not want such a destiny for him.

I had watched him as he slept, the night I disappeared. I often did this, sneaking into his room to see him. I wanted to see him when he was awake. See how he would brighten when he saw me as he came to recognize me. But he is too sweetly loose of tongue. I feared what Morzan would do to him if he discovered I had seen my son without permission. And Morzan had made it clear after laying open Murtagh's back that he would stop at nothing to use my son to bend me to his will. So, I stayed away. But on this night, I lingered. I almost woke him, to take him with me. I wanted to shove the witch's prophecy so far up her own ass she'd choke on it. Darkness and despair over my dead body.

But how much was peace of mind worth?

What is the difference between greatness and peace of mind, I wondered?

I had sought greatness. I had sought it in a man who led me astray. But he gave me Murtagh. And when he drove me into the arms of another, it gave me Eragon (that is what I have decided to name this one, who is currently kicking me with an indignant ferocity, I might add). These children were my greatest achievements. The only legacy I was proud of.

Yet, I would never know peace of mind. I don't think it was meant for someone like me. The atrocities I have committed are too great. And I choose to accept my fate.

But should my choice doom my children as well? I didn't know the answer to that, and I wrestled with that at Murtagh's bedside, crying as the decision tore at my heart.

Greatness.

Or peace of mind.

I did not know what would give him this. All I knew, in that moment, was that I wanted it for him. Desperately. Truthfully, I do not know which child I condemned more. Eragon, who will presumably know purpose and greatness. Murtagh, who will presumably know darkness and despair. And yet, she had not said both would find peace of mind. Only one would. One who would be forced down a miserable path. But he would have it, of that she assured me.

The witch told me to pour my heart into this, and I have. Piece by agonizing piece. I hope to have enough energy to make it back to Morzan's estate to hide this. I fear I will not have much left to give. My grief will consume me, and all I have left I have poured into these pages. I feel it now, in the way my body and heart aches. I will be lucky to survive the childbearing. But I hope to make it back to Murtagh before that. I long to see him. To see his face. His smile, all mine. My beautiful boy. I want to tell him I love him. One more time.

But if I do not, I hope he finds this diary. I hope he reads it and knows how loved he was by his mother. How sorry I am and forever will be that I did not do more to protect him as I should have. I will not ask atonement. But if I may be selfish and ask for understanding, that would be enough. I do not know what his peace of mind shall be. A place? A person...?

If it is a person, I must apologize to them as well, and ask for their forgiveness too. Because they will likely have to pick up the pieces of my lies and deceit. I do not know which version of Murtagh they will meet. I pray he is not so far gone that he cannot be saved. And if they are the one who saves him, then they have my eternal gratitude. I only wish I could embrace them myself. Thank them. And love them, as they will, hopefully, love my son.

I do not want Morzan's legacy ruining Murtagh or the life he could have for himself. I do not want my choices to have ruined him. But perhaps, it is too late for what I want. I just hope that I have not overburdened him, my sweet boy. However, knowing that peace of mind will come to Murtagh, in these final moments, it has come to me as well.

I do not know what his future will hold. I just hope, with all that I am, that it is a future of smiles and laughter, of warmth and compassion. Of love and tenderness. May his tears be wiped away with gentle fingers, and cheeks kissed with affection. May he know the love Morzan denied me. May he love without regret, able to give himself over to another completely. I could not do that for Brom. I loved him, fiercely. But I was a broken woman beyond repair by then. I hope that is not Murtagh's fate. I hope that is not Eragon's fate.

As a woman near the end of her life, all I can do now is hope. I must admit, that it does feel nice to have hope again. It is truly a pitiful thing to live life without it. I have not felt such a thing in quite a long time...

The entry ended there; the few remaining pages left empty. Hal closed the diary and held it to her chest, hunched over sobbing. She could not bear it. Her heart broke for everyone. Selena, who felt shattered even when she had turned her life around. A legacy that had lived on through Murtagh, hardened by a decision that he had never understood until now. Brom, who had loved a woman unable to love him the way she wanted to. Eragon who had been dealt a kinder hand in upbringing and legacy, but a heavier burden perhaps than all of them. Lives broken apart by Morzan, and Selena desperately trying to put the fragmented pieces together while she still could. To salvage this fractured and tormented family.

It was not just the relief that Murtagh had not been unloved by his mother that moved Hal to gut-wrenching tears. It was the fact that Murtagh had shared this with Hal because it had given him the closure he had needed. He had seemed different when she awoke, and she thought it had been the sense of duty driving him. She could see it so clearly now. For how often had he told Hal that she brings him peace?

Selena could not know the impact of the choices she made. What she had put into motion that fateful night she tearfully left her eldest son behind. She had moved only on hope, on blind faith given to her by a random fortune-teller. Hal thought of her mother, who had done the exact same for her. Had thrown Hal into that boat and pushed her out into the ocean. Neither mother knew the fate that would await their children. The heartaches they would face. The good moments and the bad. But they took a chance on the hopes of securing better lives for Hal and Murtagh, even if it meant they themselves could no longer be part of them.

And here they were. Far from perfect, but they themselves were perfect together. Hal began to laugh, stunned by how greatly her life changed from such seemingly small yet meaningful acts of love. Murtagh was smiling through his own tears, moved by Hal's emotion. She couldn't speak. She felt so much in that moment. Just so much. But he seemed to be thinking the same thing, and she could see the pain that transformed his face. A newfound loss and grief for his mother and her sacrifice for him. For now, he must prepare himself for a new kind of mourning. One he had never allowed himself to feel, choosing instead bitter anger as a means of self-preservation. Hal rushed to her feet, leaving the diary on the bed as she moved to pull Murtagh into her arms. She felt herself smiling as he cried, loud, heartbreaking tears for his mother that he had kept to himself all this time.

Thank you, Selena, Hal thought, projecting her thought skyward, hoping that the woman somehow knew. Thank you for giving me the chance to love your son as fiercely as you did. I will not let your decision have been in vain.

There was something beautiful in the tears. Reaching that final stage of grief that they had held off on for so long, because the guilt of moving on without those they loved felt unbearable. Felt wrong and shameful. And yet, somehow, Selena's letter had shifted that misconception around completely. Everything she had sacrificed, in the end, had been in the hopes of joy and light and love winning out in the end. Hal's mother had tried to hold off on interfering because she had wanted the same. Hal was so grateful to them, to her family and her people, to Denu. She finally, finally, understood the difference between surviving and living. And she wanted to live. She wanted to reclaim every moment she had wasted, lost in her own grief and turmoil.

A peace, a silence, filled Hal as she and Murtagh continued to embrace. One that felt like standing on a cliffside, Nani by her side as they both breathed in the salty air. Her eyes lowered to still empty lamps on the wall, the only source of light coming from the windows and the chimney fire that kept the room warm. She saw a fleeting image of what she wanted in that moment, moving on the same blind faith of those she loved dearest. The faith that built the shield that protected them from Thea more than once. The faith that had healed Murtagh's shoulder. And as she exhaled slowly, the lamps burst with fire so suddenly that the glass shattered.

Murtagh jumped but Hal didn't even flinch, blinking rapidly as the flames settled onto their respective wicks. He pulled back from her, his expression astonished. "Hal did you just..."

She nodded slowly. She knew she would still need to practice. Still needed to make sure her control was exact. But this revelation within her seemed to stir her to understand her magic in a way she hadn't before. To stop moving on fear of it, but on the hope of what it could become and provide. To trust it the same way she trusted her eyes and arms when she was aiming an arrow, knowing she would find her mark.

Murtagh pulled her back over to the bed so that she could sit, for which Hal was grateful. She was unsure why she felt so overwhelmed, but she did. Sitting felt easier on her unsteady legs.

"I couldn't figure out the right moment to share this with you," he began, clearing his voice although his cheeks remained wet and flushed. Hal looked up at him, biting down on her lip while she listened. "You had so much on your plate, and I knew reading this would bring out a lot of emotions for you, just as it had me. But as I listened to you talk just now, I realized that you sounded as I once felt: unsure of themselves, burdened, and alone. Reading this diary was…it was hard. Especially without you by my side."

Hal felt her eyes burn with tears, nodding. She regretted not being able to be there for him.

"However," he continued, "I wanted you to read this passage in the likelihood that you would feel as I did when you were done. Because I felt peace and hope, truly, for the first time. I finally accepted the parts of my life I had despised, the parts of my life that I had loved, and the parts of my life that I hope will come to pass that were only possible because of my mother's sacrifice. Because when it came down to it, she chose not to linger in the darkness, but to look ahead, towards the light. She chose hope, Hal. Despite all she herself had endured and lost, she still chose hope. I too, choose hope. And so should you. Things may not be going as we want them to right now, but there's still a chance we can turn them around. I cannot make you believe in yourself, but I know without a doubt that you believe in me. And I believe in you unwaveringly. Trust that, Hal. Trust in me and trust in us. When the time is right, you will know what to do, my love. You always have."

Hal nodded, grateful that he had shared this with her. Selena's final words would stay with Hal for a long time, she knew. She also felt something else. A deeply held desire that resurfaced now, of all moments. A moment that she had also held on to for some time, because it too gave her hope.

"Murtagh?"

He had already fallen quiet, waiting for her to speak, but he made a low sound to let her know he was listening.

"Let's get married," she said, nearly shaking as the words left her. "Soon. We can have Giles perform the ceremony. Somewhere private. Just us, and maybe Baldor and Albriech as witnesses. I don't need anything else. I don't want anything else. Just you. It's always been you."

His face went slack with surprise. Hal could hardly blame him. She was a little surprised herself. But as soon as she had said it, it felt right.

"I don't want to wait any longer," she added, suddenly feeling shy. "Not for this."

He seemed incapable of speech in that moment. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her. The way his lips moved against her made her stomach flip with nerves. And she nearly forgot that he hadn't answered her yet. When they pulled apart, Hal asked, "Wait, so is that a yes?"

He grinned, eyes red and puffy, yet shining all the same. "That's a yes."

…

Hal found Giles sitting alone at one of the tables that had been set up in the large hall, a small stack of books beside him and quite a few open in front. His eyes would scan a few sentences, then jump up to another text and read that one, as if he were referencing what he was reading.

Scurrying over, Hal dropped down in the spot beside him, grinning broadly. He slowly raised his head, turned to look at her and her face, and said, "Do I even want to know?"

"Come now, Giles, you think me so nefarious?"

He wagged a finger at her, hardly lifting his gaze from his books. "Yes. Yes, I really do. You parade about like you are some innocent, doe-eyed girl, yet you are anything but."

Hal set her hand over his, feigning like she was touched by his sentiments. Truthfully, she kind of was, but only because it was Giles who had said it. "Thank you, Giles." He snorted, but was grinning all the same. "What are you working on anyway?"

"A special request from her majesty. I'm to work with Trianna and the rest of Du Vragnr Gada to come up with a reasonable set of rules and regulations regarding magical folk."

Hal tried not to make a face at the mention of the sorceress, and Giles snorted as her barely contained contempt. "She's still insisting on having something then?"

"Aye. It's not a far-fetched idea, but I do confess that the first iteration was too rushed. They didn't give themselves enough time to separate their natural prejudices regarding magic that had formed around Galbatorix from the many innocent people who were also oppressed by his tyranny."

"That's very insightful of you, Giles."

"I admit, before you woke up, Murtagh and I had talked about it a few times. He shared some of what you and he had thought on the matter. Your intuition was right on the nose. If there's going to be a law that only regulates a subset of the population, then we have to be careful to not criminalize them as well."

"A fine line."

"A fine line indeed. But I'm sure it can be done. I'm just scouring through some of these texts to better understand magic myself. I know a lot about law, which is why her majesty tapped me. But less on…" He gestured to his open books and Hal chuckled. "I imagine you didn't come all this way to hear me spout legal nonsense. What can I do for you?"

Hal tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to appear composed. "Right. I have a favor to ask of you, if that's all right?"

"That, m'dear, depends entirely on what you're about to ask of me."

She grinned. "Fair enough. Do you remember, the request I made to you when we first met?"

He frowned, his eyes going towards the ceiling as he tried to remember. Hal nearly regretted trying to be cute and coy about the whole thing when Giles' eyes suddenly widened before landing back on her. Hal's smile burst forth like it was trying to break free.

"Oh my goodness," he breathed. "Are you…you and Murtagh…?"

She nodded. "Aye. I sort of, spur of the moment last night, asked him because I didn't want to wait anymore. We talked more about it this morning, just to make sure we both were still okay with this."

"And?"

"And, we want you to marry us. Juliet, Baldor, and Albriech have already agreed to be witnesses, and Murtagh is meeting with Nasuada to see if there is a lull in his schedule that might work."

Giles let out a cackle of laughter, and more than a few sets of eyes looked towards them, startled. He either didn't notice or didn't care as he took Hal's face in his hands. "Bless you, Hal. I'm so happy for you. So happy for you both. Yes, I would honored to officiate. More than honored. I just…wait, you need a proper dress."

"Oh, well, Juliet already insisted on trying to find something. But I do not need all the usual flair. I want this day to be about Murtagh and myself. If we try to do it up too much, I'll only wish we were home, having a proper and more traditional wedding. And, honestly, I don't know when we'll see home again. That's why we want to have the wedding now."

Giles shook his head. "You do not have to explain your reasoning to me. If you and Murtagh are in agreement, then I am happy to support in whatever way I can. I only mentioned it because no matter how big or small, a bride deserves to feel like her best self."

He held his hands in hers and Hal took a deep breath. "Thank you, Giles."

"No, thank you. For bringing Murtagh back into my life and giving me a second chance to be a proper friend. In all this…mess and darkness, you and Murtagh and Thorn have been my light." He pulled back but kept his gaze on her. "How are you feeling? Nervous?"

Hal gave a half-hearted shrug. "Not sure yet. I think I'm still caught up in all the excitement. It hasn't fully sunk in what this could mean for us and our future. I'm just so happy, Giles."

He grinned. "That's good. That's very good."

"Yes, it is. Although…" She hesitated, but his expression was patient. She shrugged again. "I don't know how to be a wife, I suppose."

When she didn't immediately finish her thought, he said, "If that's meant to be a question, I should preface my response by letting you know that neither do I." Hal snorted, then laughed, and she could see Giles' shoulders shake in his own amusement.

"I guess, I mean, that I used to wonder if marriage was even appropriate for Murtagh and I. Not that we were ever against it, but I guess I couldn't picture it either. At least not at the time. But I keep wondering if this will change us and our relationship. And if so, how? Why?"

"It seems like you're thinking more of marriage as an institution and not necessarily marriage as it pertains to you and Murtagh."

"I suppose, yes."

"In all seriousness," he continued, clearing his throat, "I don't think there's any right or wrong way to be a spouse. You have shown Murtagh such loyalty and compassion and love…and you fight for him. You did that because you cared for him. Because you loved him and respected what he meant to you. I think that's all anyone can do. Marriage will not change that."

"Then what is marriage for if not to change a relationship?" She wasn't really asking with doubt. More like she simply had the question on her mind and was curious to hear another's thoughts.

"Marriage, in my opinion as an unwedded man, is one of two things: a deal struck between two families for economic gain, or the strengthening of a bond that has already been realized between two people. You and Murtagh have a bond of iron and steel. Marriage does not negate that. But rather it cements what you both already knew to be true."

Hal smiled. She liked that idea: a strengthening of a bond. A promise. An extension of the one she had already made to stay by his side. She leaned forward and kissed Giles on the cheek. "Thank you," she told him, meeting his gaze. "For everything. I will let you get back to work, but either I or Murtagh will find you once we know what day he will have free."

"I'm looking forward to it."

…

"Your majesty, could I have a word with you for just a moment?"

"Yes, but do make it quick. I have a prepare to leave for Furnost shortly. I'm meeting Orrin halfway to discuss what all Surda can handle in terms of providing additional aid."

"Doesn't he make up more than half of the support we've received so far?" asked Murtagh.

"Aye, that he does. He can be a right pain the ass…but he almost always comes through when it matters most. An exhausting but much needed ally."

"Agreed."

"So what can I do for you, Murtagh? How's Hal doing?"

"She's better," he began by saying, feeling as though it were true. "I think some of the stress and pressure has gotten to her a bit. A lot of this is very new to her after all."

"She's very innocent," Nasuada said, looking thoughtful. "But not in a naïve way," she added quickly. "But in a way that is admirable. Someone who rises up to the occasion by means of compassion and wanting to do good for others, rather than violence. As much as I hear of how good of a fighter she is, I can't imagine such an attack wouldn't weigh heavy in her mind. And the pressure she must put on herself to try and help now…"

"Precisely. But we've been talking, and I've been supporting her as much as possible. I'd like to think it helps, even though we both know it will still take time."

"I'm sure you've been wonderful, Murtagh. You both seem to have a way of calming the other that I always envied. I'm glad she has you by her side, and you her."

It made him smile to hear such praise. "Actually, in regards to why I wanted to speak to you…" She nodded to show she was listening. "Hal and I have decided to marry."

"I thought you were already engaged?"

"No, I —" He chuckled, suddenly a bit nervous. "I mean like we decided not to wait until this mess with the Shade is over. We hope to marry sooner, rather than later. Hal is looking for Giles as we speak to ask if he would officiate."

Nasuada's eyes brightened, then her expression softened as she gazed at him. "Oh, Murtagh, that's wonderful."

"Thank you. I wanted to check on my duties with you first." His cheeks began to burn as he struggled to keep his face neutral. "I'd like to be able to spend as much time with Hal as possible."

"Of course, of course. Since my meeting is only an overnight trip, so as long as I'm here, you'd be welcome to pick whichever day you prefer. That way any updates or demands can continue to come straight to me and you're not bothered with them. I hate that I can't give you more, but I can grant you two days rest after. Besides, you've been working tirelessly since all this began. You need the break anyway. Heaven knows we could do with something good right now."

"That would be perfect, thank you."

There was a moment of silence, and Murtagh felt that familiar, small surge of guilt. That same underlying stress that, while he would never regret Hal, he had not yet paid his dues to Nasuada. The feeling that he had trampled on and used her to reach this happy ending always seemed to reveal itself when he mentioned Hal to her.

She seemed to sense the cause for his silence and gave him a smirk. "It would have never worked between us, Murtagh."

She said it lightly, jokingly even. But her words cemented the reality of it all. Even if Nasuada had been willing and able to forgive him, being with her would have never given him the healing he needed. Nor would it have been what she needed either. If it was meant to be, it would have been. But he had Hal, and after learning what he did about his mother, he had already realized how tired he was of looking back all the time. That included the role Nasuada once played in his life. He would always be grateful to her, for daring to show him that small semblance of kindness when he needed it most. But her presence in his life was as queen. And, maybe someday, as a friend. That, he knew, was as it should be.

"Congratulations, Murtagh. Halen will be a beautiful bride."

He smiled, not even bothering to hide it. Of that, he had no doubt. He bowed at the waist, out of respect, courtesy, and a means of gratitude. And then he left, eager to get started on his future as soon as possible.

…

"Ouch, mama!"

"Well then stop fidgeting, darling. I'm almost finished."

"Hal, look at me!" Thea twirled before them in her dress, arms splayed wide open as she giggled. Her skirt flew up like magic, and Hal applauded accordingly.

"There we go, all done," Zara said, stepping back.

"Will my skirts twirl like that too?" Hal asked, eyes shining with excitement. They all wore a dress of similar style: off the shoulder that wrapped in the front and cinched at the waist before flaring out into the skirt. The material of Thea's dress was patterned with flowers in various colors. Hal was a vibrant combination of blues, and their mother's was a deep red that ran down to the floor instead of stopping at her knees like it did for the girls.

"Let's find out, shall we?" And she took Hal's hand and lifted it, spinning her under her arm. When Hal's skirt came up, Thea and Hal both cheered before Thea began to spin again.

"Okay, okay," Zara said laughing, wrapping her arms around them both. "Enough. Before you try to walk and fall over."

"Again, again!" shouted Thea.

"Later, darling. We don't want to be late."

"Yay, a wedding!"

Their father was waiting for them downstairs, prepared with the perfect face of excitement when they ran up to him. "Mama said we can show you our spins later," Hal told, holding Thea's hand in hers, already knowing the girl would start to twirl again just to show off.

"Well spinning or not, you all look beautiful." The two sisters beamed with pride, skipping off as Daniel shot a look back at his wife. Zara slipped her hand in his, making sure to follow close behind.

Hal and Thea took their roles very seriously, listening to the adults who requested oils for the prayer ritual, or holding their aunt Zola's beautiful train whenever she walked. Hal was very proud when her aunt found her later, squatting down to give her niece a big hug.

"You and your sister did so good making this day special for me," she told Hal, pulling away with a beaming smile. "Where is Thea?"

"Dancing with papa," Hal said pointing to where the girl stood on their father's feet, shouting in delight as he jumped around, holding his hands in hers. "And you're welcome. You were very pretty."

"Thank you, sweetie."

"I hope my wedding is as nice as yours. Mama told me that I could wear her dress since she and papa had their wedding without us."

Zola pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. "They had their wedding without you?!" she admonished, pretending to be shocked. Hal, however, presumed her reaction to be genuine.

"They did! I was so angry. So mama promised me her dress."

"Well, it's the least she could do." Hal nodded in firm agreement. Zola laughed, leaning forward to kiss Hal's forehead. "Well, I will say a prayer for you, Hal, that you find a good man worth wearing your mama's dress for. Because I know you will be a beautiful bride, regardless."

"I know!" Hal chirped, already reaffirmed by her father's constant insistence of her and Thea's adorableness.

"Hal!"

She turned at the sound of her sister's voice, staring and waving her over. Hal reached for her aunt's hand, urging her back to her feet as they hurried over, eager to join the rest of their family in celebration.

"Miss Halen?"

Hal looked away from the mirror, Juliet standing at the door with a sweet smile as she stepped inside. "You look beautiful."

"All thanks to you, as usual." Hal turned to look back at the dress Juliet had found. It was not the style she would have predicted wearing for such an occasion, but it was still quite beautiful, especially in its simplicity. Which, considering the nature of what they were about to do, simple seemed to be the theme with which the dress lent itself too perfectly.

The last few days had seemed to drag along. It was perhaps the only time Hal wanted time with Murtagh to move quickly, although she hardly got to see him. While Nasuada was away, he still had his duties to tend to. Then he had insisted on waiting almost until the end of the week to wrap up a few more things. But he had promised Hal she would have his undivided attention afterwards, so she didn't complain.

"Is everyone ready?" Hal asked, remembering that Juliet had stepped out to check.

"Yes. I have your winter things here to wear for the ride."

"Wonderful, thank you, Juliet."

As previously discussed, they all met at the back wall, Albriech and Baldor having already assembled the horses. Keeping her cloak tightly fastened so that Murtagh would not see her dress until she was ready, she met his gaze as they approached. Their smiles brightened at the same time, her cheeks flooding with warmth.

"You look beautiful," he said by way of greeting when she reached him.

She gave him a look. "Rider, you can't even see my dress yet. It's a surprise."

He shook his head. "It's not the dress, Hal."

Normally she would tease him, but she felt like crying instead. Fortunately, Giles stepped in and said, "Save the poetry for the ceremony. Let's get a move on. Murtagh already insisted on waiting until it was late but I'd prefer we not freeze if at all possible"

Indeed, the sun was already setting, the sky half cast in darkness and the light fading. "I'm sorry," he insisted, avoiding Hal's look. "This hour worked better for me."

The entire time they traveled, Hal was so giddy that Shadow kept nickering in irritation as her rider seemed to fidget incessantly in her saddle. Forcing herself to remain calm, Hal at least took delight in the pleased, red flush creeping up Murtagh's neck.

Thorn was waiting for them, having found a private, secluded spot, that left the gloomy tension of the city behind them. He had used his tail to sweep away the snow under a bright green willow, a shocking boast of color in an otherwise abandoned tundra. It was so still and quiet and lovely, truly picturesque. The dragon was practically shaking in excitement. Hal could not hide her own joy as she met Thorn's gaze, carefully dismounting from Shadow before hurrying to approach him.

This place is perfect, Thorn.

It is a benefit to see such things from the skies. I'm glad you like it.

His voice was tender and affectionate, and Hal could not help but say, I would not ask anyone else this, but your bond with Murtagh is special and unique. And he was yours before he was mine. Your friendship and support all this time has meant as much to me as my relationship to Murtagh. So, Thorn, with your permission and blessing, I humbly ask if I might marry your rider?

The dragon looked at her rather blankly, not responding. He reached forward and touched his nose to her forehead. At first, Hal expected it to be a standard gesture of their own enduring friendship. She was wrong. First, she felt a flash of something stunningly cold, like someone had dumped ice water on her head. Her whole body shuddered violently. Then it happened. Her world seemed to explode with light, bright fantastic colors that she stared at in amazement. And then she was awash with warmth, as if the cold had exposed her and the warmth was sealing her back once more.

There, Thorn said, pulling away to look upon her once more. Now you and I have a bond of our own.

We…what?

It is not a rider's bond, that which binds me and Murtagh. That, I cannot give to another. However, I can create our own. Your feelings and emotions will not cross over into me, or mine into you, like Murtagh's. Think of it as an honorary rider's bond, if you will. My gift to you, my rider's mate. And my friend. Hal's hands held the sides of his snout as he growled low and tenderly. He nosed her cheeks affectionately. This is more than okay, Hal. I would not have shared him with anyone else. I love you, little one.

I love you, too, Thorn.

The dragon gestured and Hal looked down at her palm. On it was a smaller version of the gedwëy ignasia, as shining and discernable as Murtagh's. She looked at Thorn again in awe, and he simply huffed out hot air, clearly pleased with himself. Hal looked back at her hand once more, unable to fathom her fortune. It was more than she would have ever dared asked for, and she knew she would cherish this gift like her life depended on it. She would not let him regret this.

Murtagh came to stand behind her, tilting her hand towards him for a better look. His gaze didn't even seem surprised. If anything, he looked impossibly happier, laughing with delight when he saw Hal's own version of the shining palm. He held it up and kissed it before closing her fingers around it.

"Are you ready, iet dunei?" he whispered in her ear.

She nodded. "Aye, I'm ready."

The others were patient as Hal and Murtagh finally got into place, Giles directing them to hold hands as they stood facing each other.

"Wait!" Juliet exclaimed, rushing forward. "You're both still in your cloaks."

Turning their back to each other, Hal mouthed a silent thank you to the handmaiden as she lowered her hood and undid the knot of her cloak. The chill that hit her was substantial, but she liked the dress too much to complain. It was a faded ivory, worn more with time than with use. Hal had been able to layer a bit underneath. The sleeves were loose and light, but gathered firmly around her wrists. The neckline was modest, the fabric fitted around her torso. The skirt was slim and moved in the wind. It reminded Hal of a simple dress she'd wear on Illium, and perhaps that small bit of familiarity was why she loved it so much. It wasn't extravagant or overly-detailed. It felt like something she'd pick out for herself; Juliet had been paying closer attention to Hal's various reactions to the outfits she'd been wearing all this time than Hal had given her credit for.

When she turned around, Murtagh was already staring at her, his smile bright and his gaze unwavering. He wore a tunic of crimson under a black leather vest, dark pants, and boots. Zar'roc was noticeably absent from his hip, and she wondered if that was intentional for a particular reason or not.

"Blast it, Morzansson," Giles grunted, "I can barely see your outfits. Why would you pick the one night without a hint of moonlight for such an occasion?"

Hal inhaled sharply at these words, her expression frozen as Murtagh just looked on. Her gaze shot up, staring at the cloudless, starry sky. But no matter where she looked, she could not see a hint of moon. She turned back to him, trying to keep her emotions in check.

He nodded towards her. "I can't give you much. But a new beginning calls for a new moon, does it not?"

She beamed in complete agreement. Heavens, she couldn't believe she would finally get to marry him. "Aye."

Ready to try again, Giles had them step closer together. He produced a handkerchief and laid it over their hands, then set his hands atop as if to keep them interlocked. Hal was not familiar with this custom. But she liked it. Liked how quiet it felt. Murtagh's hands in hers, hidden under the cloth as if to symbolize and prove that this moment, this bond, was for no one else. Hal could be scratching his palm for all they knew. But they didn't, and she quite liked how that felt. A reminder that this marriage was, ultimately, no one else's concern but the two people partaking in it.

Albriech caught her gaze over Murtagh's shoulder and winked.

"It is with the greatest pleasure and greatest honor, that we all stand here today," Giles began. Hal did not think she could smile any wider, Murtagh's own beaming back at her. "In the presence of these witnesses," he gestured to the brothers, Juliet, and Thorn, "in order to join these two standing before me now: Murtagh Morzansson and Halen Zarasdaughter. This is a sacred and honorable moment, the start of a grand adventure that began a little over a year ago with the help of a rogue Nïdhwal."

Hal was not expecting such jest, and she began to laugh as she remembered her and Murtagh joking about making such a reference. And with her laughter came her tears, hot on her face against the chilling winter air. She felt so ridiculously happy. So completely and foolishly happy. She bit down on her lip and tried to compose herself. Murtagh had refused to take his eyes off her, even as they filled with tears of his own at the sight of her. The sight of her trying to keep her smile under control might as well have been as effective as bird trying to block the sun.

"Since then," Giles continued, "these two have built something together that is precious and rare. A bond forged, above all else, in trust, respect, honesty, and humility. There is power in such bonds. May it continue to nourish you both, individually and together, as you embark on this next journey in your life as husband and wife."

Murtagh's grip on her tightened.

"I would be remiss if I did not add that marriage is more than just love, which you have in droves. It is unflinching and unwavering commitment through, not just the good times, but the bad and even the mundane. It is staying true to yourselves so that you can stay true to each other. It is a willingness to admit when you are wrong, and the strength to forgive. It is the urge to fight for what you have built and to defend it against all opposition. It is communication, constant and vulnerable, at all times. It is comfort, and tenderness in the quiet moments, and in the boisterous ones. It is reaching for each other in the darkness, so that together, you may find the light. It is having the strength to let them lean on you when you are strong enough to do so, knowing that they would do the same in return. Marriage, like love, is patient and humble. It is compassionate and genuine. It is trust, and respect, desire, and it is hope. For so long as you are both willing to fight for this, there is always hope."

Hal was listening, Giles words weaving in and out of her mind as she stared at Murtagh. But she did not see just him in that moment, or him of her past. She saw the future, ever so bright and beautiful. She saw them building a home together, children running through it as Murtagh and Hal chased them around the house. She could almost hear the laughter echoing in her head. She pictured rides on Thorn, splitting their time between Illium and the mainland as Murtagh served his fealty to the queen. They would take walks through the woods, his hand ever in hers until they became withered with age. And there were so many things, so many details, she could not yet see. But that did not frighten her either. She would simply have to work to fill in the gaps.

"Now, we move to recite the vows. Murtagh, I will have you speak first. Repeat after me…"

As he spoke, Murtagh's gaze became iridescent, his eyes shining not just with unshed tears, but with life. His voice was low, but he spoke clearly and carefully, until Hal could not even hear Giles speaking first. She only heard Murtagh's smooth cadence, his thumbs gently brushing over her fingers, only adding to the moment.

"Halen Zarasdaughter," he said, his voice cracking on her name, "blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give you my body, so that two may become one." Hal shivered at that and she caught the way Murtagh smiled at her response. "I give you my spirit, until our life shall be done. While you cannot possess me, for I belong only to myself, so long as we both wish it, I give you that, which is mine to give. While you cannot command me, for I am a free man, I shall serve you in the ways of which you require. I shall be a shield for you, as you are a shield for me. Above and beyond all this, I will cherish you, and honor you, in this life and the next."

And then Hal truly began to cry, as did Murtagh, when he repeated those vows on his own accord in the ancient language. And they took on new meaning, new power, that chilled Hal to her core in the best way possible. Giles nodded, grinning as Murtagh finished, and looked to Hal. "And now, Halen, repeat after me…"

"Murtagh…" Her voice broke completely on just his first name. She could feel the instinct in him kick in, his hands flinching to wipe her tears. She held on to him tightly, not wanting to let go before they finished. She sniffed, not even embarrassed by her emotions. She was quietly grateful she had waited for this. Had not rushed into a marriage with Berjis or someone else, or rushed to do it for the sake of Murtagh's pardon. This, she knew, was how it should be. She should be too overwhelmed with joy and happiness to keep a straight face.

"Sorry," she said, and Giles quietly urged her to take her time. She nodded, grateful. She looked away for a moment, breathing calmly, sniffing so that her face wasn't completely disgusting during her wedding. After a few moments, she finally lifted her head. She cleared her throat and looked at Murtagh once more, who could hold it in no longer and was crying much more gently than she was, biting down on his lip to keep quiet. "Okay, I'm ready."

Giles smiled and began again. Her voice still shook, but she spoke clearly as Murtagh had, not wanting him to miss anything.

"Murtagh Morzansson," she declared, "blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give you my body, so that two may become one. I give you my spirit, until our life shall be done. While you cannot possess me, for I belong only to myself, so long as we both wish it, I give you that, which is mine to give. While you cannot command me, for I am a free woman, I shall serve you in the ways of which you require. I shall be a shield for you, as you are a shield for me. Above and beyond all this, I will cherish you, and honor you, in this life and the next."

And then she too repeated everything in the language, cementing their vows in the deepest known truths possible, even if the magic was not there to bind them properly. When she finished, Giles took a satisfied deep breath. Juliet dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. "By the power granted to me by her majesty, I am delighted to pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss."

Thor gave a great roar that shook the ground before releasing a dazzling burst of flames as they leaned forward. Their kiss sweet and simple since they were not alone. But it was, without a doubt, Hal's favorite one yet.