It was the light in his eyes that finally pulled Murtagh from his peaceful, dreamless slumber. It was uncomfortably and irritably bright, but he knew that he couldn't have possibly overslept. Even as he turned away from the window, burying his face in Hal's neck, he knew it was pointless now. He was awake.

Eventually he opened his eyes, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. But he was too comfortable to move: the room, Hal's soft form, the sheets against his skin, and the surrounding quiet. He loved waking up like this. He carefully rolled over onto his back, letting Hal's arm move as he did so that her hand rested on his chest, where he held it gently in his so as to not wake her. A brief glance out the window told him all he needed to know: it had snowed last night, which explained why the morning light felt brighter than usual. Some flakes were still falling from the sky, and Murtagh watched them with peace of mind.

He didn't know how much time passed before he felt Hal begin to stir. He felt her fingers on his chest twitch, and she began to grumble and moan upon realizing that she waking up. Murtagh turned his head to watch her, amused and, suddenly, a bit baffled. Although, admittedly, he didn't think he ever wanted to get used to sight of Hal waking up by his side. He didn't think it would be possible to not have little moments like this take his breath away, even if it was years from now.

Just as her eyes began to flutter open, he leaned forward and kissed her, simply because he could. Simply because, in that moment, he felt a wave of happiness that he couldn't put into words, but could put into action. Hal grunted in surprise, and he chuckled as she was forced to pull back as she tried unsuccessfully to muffle a yawn. He wrapped his arms around her hips to pull her into an embrace. When his morning arousal pressed against her, she released a low moan that was teasing nature. "What's gotten you so eager this morning, rider? Does this mean you had good dreams of me?"

He just smirked before quickly capturing her lips in his once more, his fingers reached up to undo the buttons of her gown. Hal breathed deeply against his mouth as he let his fingers brush over her breasts, down to her stomach and over her hips, where he gripped her and pulled her up so that the friction of their hips drove them both even madder with lust. Hal began to pant with need as he ground his linen-clad erection between her legs, her lips falling to the curve of his neck, her breathe hot against his skin.

His mind was racing with nervous anticipation. He could not help but recall how it had felt the last time they had come together like this. How it had felt to have Hal come while he was inside her. He wanted that again, desperately. But he could feel himself overthinking how best to get there.

When he finally guided his erection between her legs, stars seemed to explode behind his eyes. His entire body began to shake with need, the feel of her causing a shiver to run down his spine. Just like before, he was quickly overwhelmed by her, breathless and wanton.

She then sat up a bit, wrapping an arm around his neck. "This is yours," she suddenly whispered to him, her voice tight with pleasure. "This is for you. Only for you," she added, echoing the familiar sentiment.

Her voice in his ear made him dizzy. He knew she knew this. How easily he was overwhelmed by her. The pads of her fingers dug into his back as she gently coaxed him into a rhythm that she liked. Together, they glided through slow, long, hard thrusts, somehow lazy and yet after a few moments, Murtagh felt like he had worked up a decent sweat.

Hal let out a breathless, contented sigh as his lips latched onto her neck. "Gods, Murtagh," she whined as he hit a spot she liked. His leg was slowly starting to cramp, but there was no way in hell he was going to stop now. He spared a glance down at their bodies, Hal's nipples taut and teasing. He lowered his head to them, taking them between his teeth as he wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady as he began to thrust harder and faster.

Hal let out a string of colorful swears that sounded like sweet melodies to his ears. He wanted her to feel out of control. Wanted her to feel so lost in the sex that she couldn't think straight. And sure enough, she blurted without thinking of her volume, "Yes, yes, right there!"

Without thinking, he clamped a hand over her mouth, and her eyes widened when she realized what she had done. They waited a beat, which was honestly a needed reprieve. Their highs slowly coming down, Murtagh was breathing hard as he waited for signs that their hosts might have overheard. Hal, however, shook her head, and he knew then they were in the clear.

"You are reckless, iet dunei," he teased in a low voice, a smug grin on his face. He lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, "But I know, it feels good doesn't it?" Pushing her legs up a bit before gripping her thighs, Murtagh squeezed the soft muscle as he angled himself higher, knowing now that this position allowed for his pelvis to maximize his contact with her clitoris. And sure enough, when he began a slow grind of his hips, Hal's eyes rolled into the back of her head, moaning against his hand that he still had clamped to her mouth. This time, he was able to maintain the tempo without her guidance, allowing her to become completely lost in the feel of him between her legs. He dared to move his hand, instead holding on to the headboard behind them as he elongated his thrusts.

Hal bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. He wanted to lean forward and take her lips between his teeth, but he didn't dare break his strides. Not when he knew without a doubt he had gotten them right. But dammit, she was driving him insane. He desperately needed her to come. He didn't know how much longer he could stand holding back.

"Fuck, Hal." His voice sounded almost like a whine, a plea. She was the only one who could release him from this haze of lust. Her grip on him tightened and now it was his turn to swear incoherently, a chill running from his cock all the way down his spine. "Fuck, Hal," he hissed again. "I know you want to come. Come for me. Come for me, Hal." This time, he was terrified he was going to break when Hal suddenly grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down, slamming their lips together. It barely managed to block her cries as her orgasm crashed over her, her body writhing underneath him in pleasure.

Murtagh kissed her harder, his hips moving almost feverishly until he couldn't bear it and white hot explosions lit up behind his eyes as he finally let go. His thrusts became weak, exhausted, he and Hal chest to chest until he was sure he was finished, and he collapsed on top of her, utterly spent.

Hal released a low, almost dazed chuckled. "Heavens, rider. That was amazing." He turned his head to find her brown eyes aglow, her smile dazzling and playful as she met his gaze.

"You're amazing," he replied, his voice still grizzly. Then he leaned forward and covered her mouth with his, their tongues close to mimicking what their bodies had just finished doing. He slowly rolled them over so that Hal was on top, comforted by the all-consuming weight of her. How he wished they could just lie there all day, easily slipping from passion to sleep and back again without a care for time or duty. He wanted to make up for their wedding night, the other nights where she hadn't orgasmed from penetration alone. Wanted to be lost in the scent of sweat on their skin, the warmth of their bodies, and the sensual touch of her fingers on him. His selfishness and his desire were growing faster than he could control, but part of him didn't want control. Hal was the only person around whom he could say such a thing. But with her, a lack of control gave him an all-time high he never wanted to come down from.

"Your hearts racing," she whispered, pulling away from, nudging his nose with hers. "Is everything all right?"

He nodded as she got comfortable on his chest. He let his fingers stroke her arm as she laid her head down. He closed his eyes, sensing Hal was doing the same. He felt like he did when he was flying on Thorn: weightless and unbound by regular, human constraints. He drifted off with a faint smile on his face, but not for long. Hal's lips on his chest pulled him out of his lazy haze. "I can hear our hosts beginning to stir. We should get cleaned up."

He made some noise in the back of his throat and Hal laughed, her body shaking underneath him. The sound was music to his ears, and he forced himself to lift his head to meet her gaze. "When all this madness is over," he told her, "you're not leaving my bed for at least a week while I have my way with you."

She grinned, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Is that so?"

He nodded, his voice dropping again with lust as he added. "At the estate. Where you can scream as loud as you want."

Her eyes danced excitedly as she looked at him. "You have yourself a deal, Shur'tugal."

…

In a strange turn of events, Hal and Murtagh were treated more like guests in Carvahall than they ever were in Ilirea. She had expected more pushback, especially after Murtagh had mentioned that it was likely Roran, Baldor, and Albriech weren't the only ones from the village who had fought in the war. Fought against the armies he'd led. But, and perhaps it was because Roran walked with them, they received curious glances instead of hostile ones. The mood really changed when Baldor and Albriech saw them approaching the main village, the two brothers waving them down with three people Hal didn't know standing beside them.

"Hope!" Ismira shouted, and she darted away from her father in giddy excitement, running as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. Another little girl standing near the two brothers, looking about the same age but with a dash of striking blonde hair like Albriech's, followed suit. Every adult in the vicinity was grinning hard as the two girls embraced.

"Hope is Albriech and Baldor's younger sister," Roran explained to Hal, who was carrying Ro on her hip, bouncing him to the tune of his giggles.

"Sister?" Murtagh said, startled by the age difference.

Roran nodded. "She was born within weeks of Ismira. They've been thick as thieves since they could talk."

As the two groups converged, Hal took careful note of the features of the two strangers: a burly man with a mane of wild, dark hair, and a woman with hair the same color as Albriech and Hope. And the similarities to the brothers became obvious. When they were close enough, Hal immediately dipped into a standing curtsey, mindful of Ro in her arms, and said with much sincerity, "You must be the wonderful parents of Albriech and Baldor that I've heard so much about. I can't tell you how much of an honor it is to meet you."

The man's thick brows went up in surprise, but his expression was light, almost teasing, as he looked to his sons. "Heavens. Not even my own kin and she offers up more respect."

"Show off," Baldor teased.

"You must be Halen," the woman said kindly, offering her hand, which Hal took. The woman clasped her other hand on top. "Baldor and Albriech have talked of you incessantly since arriving. I admit I had no idea what to expect, but I'm so thrilled to finally meet you. Please, call me Elaine. And this is my husband, Horst."

"An honor, truly," Hal continued, feeling almost flustered now. As she shook Horst's hand, she added, "Your sons have been a godssend for me. They stuck their necks out for me and Murtagh while we were in Ilirea. I'm happy to consider them amongst some of our closest friends now."

"Told you," Baldor said, grinning cheekily at his father, who waved his hand dismissively.

"You can tell us the truth later, when these two fools aren't here to intimidate you." But Hal could see how the man had puffed up his chest in pride. Hal was flattered and surprised to see that her praise carried such weight. Then he turned his gaze and added, "You must be Murtagh," pulling the one person who had not yet spoken into the fold.

Murtagh cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes sir, it's a pleasure to meet you."

The rider held out his hand, and Hal watched as a beat passed where neither Horst nor Elaine moved. She glanced casually at Baldor and Albriech, who looked about as concerned as she felt, but she knew better than to let it show on her face. Just as Murtagh began to lower his hand to break the awkward tension, Horst reached out and grabbed it, his expression firm.

"My boys told us what you did during the siege, and how you helped later in Ilirea with its recovery," the man said. "I don't believe in dwelling in the past. I trust her majesty when she says that your actions were not your choice. And I trust my boys and Roran when they say you're a changed man. So, I'll just say this and we can move on: I'm glad you found your way, dragon rider."

Murtagh's jaw was set as Horst shook his hand. "I am too. Thank you."

Elaine seemed less hesitant, easily reaching out for Murtagh's hand. Hal wondered if perhaps the father was the main hurdle. Regardless, they had passed it, and Hal was more than happy to take Horst's advice and not dwell in the past. At least for right now, as the smell of something sweet and baked began to waft towards her. Ro pulled on a strand of her hair, and Hal began to bounce once more, making faces at the baby until he laughed.

"I assume Roran told you the traders just arrived in town?" Elaine asked. Hal and Murtagh nodded. "You're in for a real treat. They always have some really nice things for a good price."

So, led by Horst and Roran, their little group made their way towards the stalls, Hope and Ismira holding each other's hands. It was infinitely less crowded than what they had seen in Teirm. In fact, it seemed less intense too. The villagers were out with an air of excitement, so Hal gathered it was a indulgence indeed for the men and women who had traveled to be here.

People from the village would approach their group, greeting Roran or Horst or Elaine, but their eyes were heavy on Murtagh and Hal until they were introduced. Like Horst, there seemed to be some who hesitated, unsure. But, for the most part, Hal found them respectful and kind.

"You're the village healer?" Hal asked with perked up delight as an older woman, introduced as Gertrude, shook her hand. "How wonderful. I worked closely with the healer back in our village. I often was in charge of selecting the herbs and plants he used for his remedies since I was the more efficient tracker."

"Is that so?" Gertrude inquired, seemingly impressed.

"Oh yes. It's quite a passion of mine, actually. In fact, I would love to discuss with you what some of the more native species of plants are available to you here. I'd be curious to learn more about how their environment shapes their properties. And, of course, if there's anything I could take with me, I would be forever in your debt. I haven't had a chance otherwise to really learn on my own and I wouldn't even know where to begin."

Gertrude blinked. "Well, yes, that actually would be nice. I'd love to hear about what's available on your island as well. I'd be happy to have you over for tea whenever you're free."

"That would wonderful, thank you!"

Quite a few of the interactions went about the same way, Hal lowering the defenses of others with her ingenuity and charm. Murtagh was more than happy to let her be the spotlight, she was much better at it than he. And she seemed to flourish, much more at ease away from titles and nobility. Already, he was grateful he had brought her here.

"I feel like I should be taking notes," Roran muttered, letting Murtagh know he was not alone in noticing how well Hal could work a crowd. "She makes me feel sloppy by comparison."

Murtagh chuckled. "She tends to have that effect on people. But always in a way that makes you want to match her energy somehow."

"Exactly," Roran said, brightening as Murtagh voiced what he was thinking. "I'm not even upset, just impressed and inspired."

The rider grinned over at his cousin. "Welcome to my world."

As they walked down the rows of tents, the crowd grew deeper, the stalls more robust. Children ran around squealing with joy, laughter from even the adults rising about the frigid air.

"Roran!" Hal spun around quickly, and Murtagh could tell by her expression that she'd had an idea.

"Yes?"

"Out of curiosity, do you happen to know if there's a merchant or trader who is in charge here? I would like to talk to them about how far around the country they travel."

Murtagh caught on immediately, as did Roran. "You're thinking of having traders in Illium?"

"I'm not sure." Hal admitted, looking to Murtagh. "Of course, it seems like a nice idea in theory. I'd love for our people to have more exposure and greater opportunities to make use of their goods. But of course, they'd have to be open to it, especially since we don't deal with money at all, so there would be a learning curve. And the traders would have to travel by boat. We do it on occasion, but I'd love for the village to be able to have something like this. But then there's the matter of —"

"I think it sounds like a wonderful idea," Horst interjected, chuckling at Hal's stream of conscious. "And I know just the man who can answer some of those questions. I can take you to him now if you'd like to be introduced."

"Really? Yes, please, if you don't mind."

Hal then glanced at Murtagh, who said, "I actually think I'm going to continue walking around for a bit. There's a few stalls I'd like to get a closer look at."

He saw her hesitate for the barest of instances, feeling less sure of them being separated. Without saying a word, Roran clapped a hand on Murtagh's shoulder and looked at Hal pointedly. She relaxed then, and said, "Okay. I'll meet up with you later?"

"Of course."

She stepped forward and quickly kissed him on the lips before following Horst through the thicket of people, down to the far end of the rows. From there, the group seemed to naturally split off, Baldor and Albriech taking Hope and Ismira one way, Elaine and Katrina going another. Murtagh followed Roran, who introduced him to a few of the traders, many of whom were eager to show-off their wares to a dragon rider and someone within the queen's court. There were a few pieces Murtagh eyed with interest for Hal, but he was a bit too indecisive to make a choice.

However, when the cold became too much, he brought his cousin and himself a round at the local tavern along with a few meat pies to settle their lunchtime hunger. A few more townspeople approached, curious and eager to meet Murtagh. In high spirits, he felt much more like Hal during these introductions than he had before. He met the tavern owner, Morn, and his wife, Tara, as well as a few other locals. By the time he and Roran were leaving, Murtagh was warmed from the inside out.

"You know, I didn't think to suggest this before leaving," Roran commented suddenly, "but Thorn would be welcome to come down to meet everyone as well. After Saphira, we're much more comfortable with dragons than we look. And I don't want him to spend his time here isolated either."

Finally, Thorn commented, stretching out from his spot down by the river. I was beginning to think I would be forgotten here.

"He thanks you and would be delighted," Murtagh paraphrased, reading between the lines of his dragon's sarcasm.

They soon ran into the others who'd had their fill of looking around. Ismira and Hope both had sticky syrup around their mouths and on their hands from a hot pie they'd been treated to. Baldor explained that Hal and Horst were still in talks with the head trader. The group walked around for a bit longer until the children began to complain of the cold. In truth, the snow had begun to melt through everyone's boots and furs, and the temperature was steadily dropping as evening approached. Perfectly timed with their growing discomfort, Horst and Hal could be seen approaching, talking excitedly.

"I take it your meeting went well?" Roran inquired to Hal.

"Very well," she agreed. "Nothing concrete, of course. But the man, Audric, was very helpful in answering my questions. He even gave me the name and locations of a few people to reach out to if we ever decide to move forward. I think it's something we could really consider."

"Well, let's all consider some hot baths and some hot food," Katrina declared, glancing at Ismira as Horst picked up Hope. "Before we all catch colds."

"Roran, Katrina, Murtagh," Horst said quickly, and they all turned to look at him. "I was just telling Hal on our way back that Elaine and I would love to have everyone over for dinner before the end of your trip."

"That would be perfect, Horst, thank you," Katrina said.

After they waved goodbye, Hal slipped her arm through Murtagh's as they followed behind Roran and Katrina. "I spoke with Thorn briefly. I feel bad, I feel like we've ignored him since arriving."

"Don't let that oversized lizard worry you." Murtagh ignored the indignant roar that echoed in his head. "He's fine."

Hal laughed, having heard Thorn's response as well. Murtagh grinned, pulling her closer into his side as they followed their hosts back home after a very successful day.

…

Hal could not remember the last time she felt so comfortable. So wholly welcomed in a space without any expectations or doubt. She had expected Roran to go out of his way — he had invited them after all. But she was surprised by how at ease he seemed during their visit. He seemed genuinely motivated to welcome Murtagh into the family, and often reached out with invitations for the rider to join him for walks, drinks, hunts (where he made a concerted effort to include Thorn), and other such things. And Hal never failed to smile at the sight of Murtagh's back and shoulders as he left with his cousin, relaxed and completely at ease for perhaps the first time since they left Illium. The lack of tension in his body was palpable, and she marveled as to how she had missed it before.

"They are becoming inseparable," Katrina teased. The two men had just left to take care of some business in town after Katrina had shouted a reminder to be back in time for dinner with Horst and his family. And Roran had promised he would get Ismira a few more pieces of candy from the traders before they left in the morning. The women and children had gathered around the fire in the living room, Katrina in a stuffed chair, her hands making quick work of whatever it was she was knitting.

Hal, who was sitting on the floor with Ismira as she braided the girl's hair, could not hide her smile. "Indeed. And Murtagh is tough and very selective of those he lets get close to him. You and your family have had a profound impact on him in this short time since we've arrived."

Katrina's expression was momentarily stunned before serene humbleness softened her features. "Think nothing of it, Hal. That's what family is for."

"There, all done," Hal said, leaning back. Ismira reached out to touch the single plait Hal had woven down her scalp and back.

The girl beamed. "Now we match!"

"We sure do," Hal agreed, pulling at the end of her own braid that Ismira had seen that morning and begged to have copied.

"Do you think you could teach me how to do that?" Katrina asked. "I've never been good at getting Ismira's hair gathered like that. I'm sure she will want this style again since her Aunt Hal wears it."

Hal flushed again. "Of course."

By the time the men returned, Hal was just finishing up getting dressed. Murtagh came barreling through the bedroom door, his cheeks flushed. "I know, I know, we got held up. I'll be ready quickly."

"If you say so, rider."

But he was true to his word, having taken a rushed bath. He was pulling on his clothes, Hal waiting patiently as she sat on the bed. "Did everything go okay in town? You and Roran were gone far longer than we expected."

"It was not our intention," Murtagh said, carefully avoiding looking back at her as he buttoned up his shirt. "We got to talking with the merchants and townspeople and simply lost track of time."

"Did you at least get whatever it was you needed? Or Roran needed?"

"What? Oh, yes, yes. Are you ready?"

Hal gave him a pointed look and he quickly shook his head. "Right, sorry," he said, and Hal crossed her arms over her chest as she rose to her feet.

"You have a secret?"

He froze, the color in his cheeks darkening. "What are you talking about?"

"You're far too flustered." Hal narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What kind of trouble could you have possibly gotten into in the last few hours."

"You are too perceptive."

"And you are too obvious. Spill."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both. It's a surprise."

"A surprise?"

"Yes, a surprise. For you."

"For me?"

"Are you just going to repeat everything I say?"

"What kind of surprise is it?"

"That, Hal, would ruin said surprise. I will tell you after dinner. Now let us hurry before we are later than we already are."

Hal openly pouted but didn't argue as he grabbed her hand. Roran and Katrina were fastening Ro and Ismira in their winter gear, but it wasn't long before everyone was ready to go with just enough time to spare. They ushered themselves quickly through the cold and the snow, Hal's grip on Murtagh tight with nerves. But she smiled when he squeezed her hand back.

Albriech greeted them, helping them quickly through the door before they let too much of the cold in. The room became infinitely louder, greetings being tossed around, as everyone discarded their cloaks and scarves and filed into the kitchen. Elaine was standing over a pot, and Katrina and Hal quickly moved to help while the men — after numerous reminders from the women that the kitchen was only so big and they could not help — made themselves scarce. Ismira showed off her braid to their hosts for the evening, and Hal threw Baldor a look when he asked her to do his short hair as well. Although she happily copied the style for Hope, who was eager to match.

The meal was delightful, the wine sweet, and the conversation enthralling. There were moments where it was obvious that Hal and Murtagh were outsiders, and they would listen with smiles on their faces as the others recounted stories from years past. And it did not miss Hal's notice that, unless she or Murtagh offered up something of their own fruition, they were not pressed to discuss details of their upbringings or childhoods. Hal had a sense Roran had said something beforehand, or the table was by-and-large perceptive. Either way, Hal was relieved. Even if it was a means of keeping them at arms-length, Hal knew she was not ready to talk of certain matters amongst strangers, no matter how kind they were.

Instead, she allowed herself to continue the façade of living a relatively normal life. Meeting her husband's extended family was normal. Getting to know their neighbors and friends was normal. And she had forgotten how much she craved normalcy until this week. Part of her was loathed to leave it. For the first time, it struck her that they were leaving in the morning. They had gone almost a week without talking about Thea, thinking about the lack of magic. It had been blissful and needed. She felt her throat constrict as she tried to push down the slowly rising panic. When had she allowed herself to become so swept up in this village and its people?

She felt Murtagh slip his hand into hers, subtle as ever, and give a firm squeeze. Hal glanced over at him and saw how his features had grown sad. She knew he was thinking the same thing. This peace was not meant to last, no matter how desperately they wanted it to.

As soon as the thought left her, there was a resounding knock at the door that surprised everyone, heads swinging around with baffled confusion. "Wait here, I'll get it," said Horst, rising to his feet. "Who is it?" he called out, headed towards the door.

"It's Nolfavrell!" a young man's voice cried out. "I have a messenger with me with an urgent note for the dragon rider."

Hal felt like her chair had been yanked out from underneath her. She and Murtagh shared a look, both obviously troubled. He rose to his feet first, Hal following close behind. Horst opened the door, a young man standing on the porch. He was no older than fifteen, the one who had announced himself as Nolfavrell. "He said he went up to Roran's home first but that Thorn directed him back to town. I offered to bring him here."

He glanced to someone out of sight, who then stepped forward and into the light. Hal's mouth dropped in surprise, and Horst sucked in his breath. It was an elf, strikingly beautiful with hair so blonde it seemed almost white. His features were chiseled to perfection, smooth yet sharp. His forest green eyes shone like gems. He was almost, quite literally, breathtaking, and it would be almost unnerving if Hal could manage to look away and think clearly. The effect he had on her reminded her greatly of Blödhgarm when she'd first met him.

"Good man, Nolfavrell," Horst said quickly, regaining his sense. "Thank you."

The young man nodded, eyeing the messenger warily. Hal could see how he clutched a small dagger at his side, his hand trembling with nerves. Her heart broke, knowing that feeling. That fear that no outsider could not be trusted, even if their intentions were pure. She doubted he'd seen such an elf up close before. Arya, as stunning as she was, did not produce the same reaction as far as Hal was concerned (and that was truly saying something).

As if noticing the same thing, Horst said, "Don't worry, son. We'll take it from here." Nolfavrell met the man's gaze and nodded.

When the boy was gone, only the elf remained. He bowed as Murtagh and Hal appeared in the doorway, Horst stepping back. But Hal could sense that he, his sons, and Roran were close by and taking no chances. "Shur'tugal, my name is Irindriel. Her majesty, Nasuada, apologizes for disrupting this time with family. As do I. But I was tasked in bringing you this, an urgent summons delivered by Queen Arya Dröttning of the elves. She's requested that you and Miss Halen both come to Ellesméra as soon as possible."

"Arya did?" Murtagh repeated, taking the sealed letter offered to him. "Did she say what for?"

"She did not, sir."

"Then Thea at least wasn't spotted," Murtagh muttered, more to himself. Hal breathed in relief and understanding. They wouldn't have bothered putting it in a letter if the matter was of life-or-death.

"I gathered it was more information she wished to share," the elf added. "Her majesty, Nasuada, is also aware of the request and has also said that she can continue to manage without you for the time being.

"Thank you for delivering this," Murtagh said, holding the letter up.

"It was an honor. I had hoped to meet you, as her majesty has had many good things to say. I must depart, as she is expecting a reply. Shall I tell her you will come?"

Murtagh sighed, looking to Hal, who nodded. There was a moment of silence where she knew he was conversing with Thorn. The elf, Irindriel, waited patiently, as if he knew this as well. Finally, Murtagh said, "Aye, tell her we'll come. We were set to leave tomorrow morning anyway, so the timing works out. We should arrive in a week or so — I know travel to Ellesméra will probably take the longest."

"Oh, and it's likely that two others will be accompanying us," Hal added quickly, gesturing to the two brothers behind her. "Arya knows them: Albriech and Baldor Horstsson. They serve as my personal guard."

"It will be of no problem at all. The elves will be happy to host you all. Until we meet again." Irindriel bowed once again, his hand over his heart before he turned to leave. Off in the distance, Hal could see a lovely stallion waiting for him patiently before they stepped back to close the door against the frigid cold.

She looked at Murtagh, her heart still slightly hammering in her chest. He looked at Horst and said, "Do you mind if we speak privately for a moment?"

"Of course not, of course not. Take your time."

When they were alone, Murtagh carefully tore open the letter, holding it out so that Hal could read at the same time he did.

Murtagh and Halen,

I hope this letter finds you both in good health. I've sent along a separate note for Nasuada telling her what I'm telling you now: I believe we might have found information pertaining to what you and I discussed before I left. If you haven't already, please send my messenger back with your response. I have enclosed instructions for navigating Du Weldenvarden as well. I hope to look for you in the coming days.

Arya

"What exactly did you two discuss before she left?" asked Hal.

Murtagh inhaled slowly through his nose, daring to hope. "She was investigating either the blackened earth or how to restore magic. She thought the elven archives may prove more useful."

"She must've found something then. That's good right?"

He sure hoped so.

"And I get to see Du Weldenvarden," she added, her demeanor taking on a more giddy edge. "That's very exciting."

"Yes, it is. I'm glad this at least didn't cut short our time here. Although we certainly didn't bring enough supplies for a trip there and back to Ilirea."

"Oh, I'm hardly worried about that. But it does remind me that we are guests still for the time being. Let's go, enjoy our last night here while we still can."

He was more than happy to oblige, he and Hal easing themselves back into the conversation, which had been muted with concern and worry. But they assured everyone that everything was fine, and about their detour. By the time they were back in their room, Hal collapsed first on the bed. Murtagh closed the door and followed after her, rolling so that he could lay his head on her chest.

"I liked it here," Murtagh admitted when Hal did not speak. "More than I expected."

"Me too. It all felt so normal. I miss normal. And boring. If you had told me a year ago that I would utter such words, I would say you had spoken to an imposter."

"Normal reminded me of home. I miss it probably more now than I did before."

"Like this past week teased us. Dangled in front of us what it knew we wanted most, knowing it would snatch it all away."

He let out a long, labored sigh that described precisely how Hal felt.

She tapped the top of his head gently. "Come. Let's get changed so that we can get as much sleep as we can before tomorrow. I intend to get full use of this bed tonight before we leave."

Murtagh lifted his head, his expression intrigued.

Hal snorted. "I meant for sleeping, scoundrel."

He smacked his lips disapprovingly but sat up. She dressed in her nightgown, releasing her hair from its twists so that she could brush it out and braid it before bed. As she did so, she sat down on the bed where Murtagh was already sitting, having already changed. She noticed the small box in his hands and remembered. "Is that my surprise?"

"And if it isn't?"

"I know it is. What is it? Show me."

"You are demanding."

She stuck her tongue out at him as she focused on finishing her braid. Murtagh watched her with rapt attention and patience, and she shot him a smile. "Have I ever told you that I like it when you watch me?"

His lips curled. "I don't think you have."

"Well, I do. Your eyes were one of the first things I loved about you."

His brows shot up in surprise. "Truly?"

She nodded, tying the twine around the end. "Truly." She lifted her hands to his face, her thumbs brushing under the fading dark circles. She dreaded the thought they might return after tonight. "You wear your heart in your eyes, rider. How could I not fall in love with you then?"

He didn't answer her. His head dropped a bit, his gaze meticulously avoiding hers as he raised his hands, offering the box to her. "Open it."

Hal felt his uncertainty rolling off of him in droves. But curiosity bid her do as he said. She lifted the small thing from his hands. She could feel the velvet-like exterior, soft and smooth. Her fingers ran along a crease in the middle, her nail slipping through it and she realized the box opened like a mouth. Lifting the top, her eyes widened at the sight before her.

Set against a satin backdrop was a hair comb. The detailing was intricate and refined, the bronze-colored material carefully twisted and shaped to form various patterns. Most engaging was the emerald set in the middle, dazzling and polished so sharply that Hal could practically see herself. Small, matching gems adorned the top as well.

"Murtagh," Hal breathed, her fingers dancing over the piece, "this is beautiful. Where did you —"

"One of the traders fashioned the piece for me."

"Oh, but you shouldn't have spent your money on me. This looks awfully expensive."

"It wasn't as much as you might think. I did not have to pay for the jewel since I already had it."

Now Hal looked at him, hearing how his voice was getting tight with nerves. "Where did you get it from?"

"Denu."

She had not expected that. "He…he gave this to you?"

"No. No, he didn't. I found it, as a necklace, after he died, in the remains of the hut. I took it. I don't know why. Amon had mentioned he thought Denu meant to give it to you someday. That it was a wedding gift from his mother, and that he had intended to give it to his children. I didn't…I didn't know yet what I meant to do with it. But I saw the comb and…well, I've never seen you wear a necklace, but you are always doing your hair in beautiful buns and braids. I immediately thought of you when I saw it. I wanted you to have something of Denu's, but I wanted it to be something that was unequivocally yours. Something that should have been a gift from Denu on your wedding day. Something that, if you wanted, you could pass down to our children."

Hal had mentioned her lack of dowry to him once, at another wedding in another life. It had been a passing thing, and she couldn't recall mentioning it since. But it was obvious that Murtagh had not forgotten. Just like he hadn't forgotten the custom of having weddings on the new moon, not the full moon. Her eyes blurred with tears as she stared at the comb. Her comb. She had nothing of her mother or her father. But with this, she would always have something of Denu, passed down from his family, that she could pass down to hers. Maybe.

She clutched that tiny thing to her chest, cradling it in her hands as she began to cry, hot, fat tears. "Would I be a terrible mother if I didn't though?" she asked over her tears.

Murtagh seemed to understand, and she could hear how his voice shifted, realizing she wasn't upset with him. Relieved, he shook his head. "It is my gift to you, Hal, to do with as you wish. You certainly wouldn't hurt my feelings if you chose to keep it for yourself."

"Promise?"

"Yes, my love. I promise."

Then he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. He kissed the top of her head before just letting his forehead rest there. She self-consciously wiped at her face, laughing to ease the tension in her body. "It's perfect, Murtagh." She glanced back down at the small comb, a barely visible smile on her face as she ran her fingers along the teeth of it. "I can't believe you would do all this for me. If you are not careful, you will turn me into a spoiled housewife."

"I don't mind it. But, if you ever feel indebted, I could think of one or two ways in which you might pay me back."

She pushed playfully on his chest, but her smile was bright as she looked up at him. "Thank you, Murtagh. Truly. This is…everything you've done for me…just…thank you. Thank you."

He had practically rendered her speechless, and her struggle to form a coherent sentence softened him. Sniffing, she set the comb down in her lap before reaching up to undo her braid. Murtagh watched with rapt attention as her fingers worked quickly, guided along a familiar path as they undid then redid the braid. Hal carefully wove her strands around the comb so that it was properly fastened and secure, making it seem as though her comb and hair were one entity.

Still sniffing, she lowered her hands and smiled. "How do I look?"

He shook his head, the dim moonlight giving him just enough to see the gems shine amongst her dark curls. Her face was still wet, eyes frightfully red. "Enchanting."

He leaned down and kissed her, cupping the back of her neck to hold her steady. Every few seconds, the kiss would deepen, Hal wrapping her arms around him as he carefully laid her back onto the pillows. Murtagh was eager to see what Hal looked like in the night when the comb was the only thing she was wearing.