Hal had fallen into a deep sleep that night, under the impression that her week of blissful slumber would continue while in Ellesméra. And after "taking it easy" per Murtagh's suggestion, they had eaten, bathed, and immersed themselves amongst soft, warm threading that was finer than any material in the queendom of Alagaësia. Her last sight as her eyes closed had been of the stars and nighttime sky overhead, Murtagh's even breaths on her neck as he slept on her chest.

And yet, in the middle of the night, she felt that same presence in her mind that she had felt as they had entered Du Weldenvarden, growing stronger as they neared the elven capital. It was a consciousness she wasn't familiar with. And it was not as though they were trying to get her attention. If anything, they did not seem to fully register her presence at all. But whoever or whatever they were, they were ancient and powerful, an entity so vast that it rivaled, perhaps even surpassed, Thorn's consciousness when he and Hal were connected.

Despite all her efforts to ignore the intrusion, Hal's curiosity got the best of her. Carefully detangling herself from Murtagh's embrace, she slipped out of bed and quickly dressed in her wool-lined leggings and tunic. Although the days were starting to show signs of spring, the nights had still been frigid, and Hal was always wary that it could still snow unexpectedly at any moment. Carrying her boots in her hands so that she did not stomp all over the wood floors, she quietly descended down the stairs in her thick socks, waiting until she was at the bottom to pull on her shoes.

What are you doing up, little one? Thorn asked, opening one eye as he caught her scent. Is everything all right?

Hal walked over to him, curious to hear his input. Do you know what all lives in this forest besides the elves?

Thorn seemed confused by the question. I mean…I suppose there would be other living creatures here, of course.

No…well, yes. But this is different. Do you feel it? This overwhelming presence that seems to fill the space around us?

Only a bit, although I can't say what might be the cause.

Hal frowned, somewhat disappointed. She should've asked Arya when she had a chance. Well, I figured since I'm awake, I might as well investigate.

Thorn stretched out, arching his back like a cat as he yawned. Do you mind if a join you? I admit you've piqued my curiosity.

And I'm sure you don't want me to go alone.

While I do trust the elves, I don't want to assume that what you are sensing is a non-threat just because we are in Du Weldenvarden. We would be unwise to lower our guards now.

That's true. Well, if you'd like, I'd love the company.

Thorn got up to follow her. Am I to assume that you do not wish for Murtagh to know?

You can try reaching him, but he was knocked out. Didn't even notice that I'd left.

That's concerning and amusing.

Hal chuckled. Let him rest. He needs it. Besides, there's no guarantee we'll even find anything worth waking him up for. As they walked, Hal was not surprised to see that there were very few elves out and about at this hour. Those who noticed her and Thorn caught their gazes, greeting them with warm smiles, but it did not quite reach their eyes.

It never occurred to me, Thorn commented when they were alone again, what the loss of magic would mean for the elves.

Nor I. And I didn't consider the repercussions either.

We will return magic before the effects of losing it are truly felt, Thorn assured her. Du Weldenvarden may have grown at the rate it did because of the elves' influence, but the forest was here before them still. I have a feeling that it is strong enough to endure when we are all long gone.

Aye, agreed. She couldn't quite say how she knew where she was going, blindly following only her instincts, which seemed to guide her accordingly. Not long after, she stopped in front of a darkened trail, the path narrow with barely enough room for Thorn to fit. It seemed almost like a hallway, the tress lining each side like soldiers standing at attention. It's down there. Hal gestured with her chin.

You tried to come this way when we first arrived, Thorn realized. What exactly have you been sensing?

It's hard to say. But their presence almost feels like yours when you're in my head: very powerful and all-consuming. And yet, it's not just that it's in my head as thought calling for me specifically. Instead, it's like the energy is the very forest itself.

Hmm, so perhaps a magical being then?

Perhaps. That's certainly how it feels, anyway.

Then she turned and charged down, her curiosity waxing with every passing second. The sensation in her mind seemed to grow louder, more prominent even, but now, Hal could tell that it was slow moving, like the erosion of land when the ocean pushed up against it. How it would take years to notice anything was different.

They passed a few more elves who did not seem surprised or concerned as they tread deeper into the forest, so Hal was left to assume that where they were headed wasn't strictly off-limits or private. Which was good for her, as she was encouraged solely by curiosity at this point and would have hated to have to be turned away. She knew they were getting closer, though. The air felt different, like it was buzzing with power and energy. With life.

And when they stepped through an arch of trees, she felt her mouth fall open.

There was no mistaking the source of energy she had been feeling, but the object wasn't one she had pictured at all. It was a tree. A massive one at that. Despite being a pine no taller than any surrounding it, it was as wide as hundreds. Its roots ran deep into the earth, and even grew on top of it, spreading out like veins in a body. But that was not what had Hal so transfixed.

The tree had a heart.

It was like it was beating, the air around it pulsating slowly but surely with life. Hal couldn't just feel it, she could see it, how the air moved around it with each thump. And she felt her own heart begin to match its rhythm, like Hal herself could become one with it. Something in her was coming alive. Responding to it.

Outstanding, Thorn breathed.

Outstanding indeed. Hal took a hesitant step forward, then another. At first, she was mindful of the roots, taking care not to step on them despite their strength and size, some as thick as she. However, as she drew closer, she realized they were the only way to get closer to the tree itself. She found a sturdy-looking one and lifted herself up, following the trail it made until she reached the trunk of the tree. This entity was ancient, she knew. Powerful. The life of the forest that Hal had sensed the moment she crossed into its borders originated right here.

Hal felt small standing under its limbs. Smaller than she ever did standing by Thorn. She wasn't sure how she knew, but Hal reached out with her hand and her mind, lowering her shields. A great risk. But somehow, she knew she was safe.

She pressed her palm against the bark, spread her fingers against the rough exterior. The tree itself seemed to stir as though from slumber, groaning like a house settling in its foundation. And then, only to Hal, did it speak.

Hello, child.

Hal felt the tears before she could grasp the reason for their existence. This was beyond awe. The way the voice spoke directly to her, filling her. In it, Hal could hear such human emotions. Regret, anger, sadness, loneliness, joy, relief, pain, life. It was similar to how Selena's diary had felt when it touched her mind.

H-h-hello.

You are not familiar to me.

The words came slowly, painstakingly so, an indicator to the trees age. But Hal was patient. I am a guest here of the elves.

But you are not an elf.

No. My name is Halen.

Halen. A female of blood and bone. But not an elf. I see. A moment of silent, then: have you come to attack me?

Hal blanched. Of course not! I would never! Why do you ask such a thing?

The last time someone spoke to me I was attacked by the dragon. A rider named Eragon Shadeslayer. And his dragon, Saphira Brightscales. And you also have a dragon with you.

Saphira attacked you? What on earth for?

For the brightsteel under my roots.

Hal frowned, unable to fathom what on earth would compel Saphira to such a thing and unfamiliar with the term brightsteel. However, it must've been important and they must've been desperate. It did not seem like something Eragon would instinctively condone otherwise. Well, the dragon does not belong to me, but to another rider. But they are not here to harm you either.

The tree was clearly more intrigued with Hal than it was reminiscing on the past, because it said nothing further on the matter of Eragon and instead asked, Why can I sense you if you are not an elf? You are not just human, are you? You are more.

I don't know, Hal admitted, not wanting to admit to being part Shade. But I have been able to sense you since I came to Du Weldenvarden.

Then an ancient magic flows through your veins. Tell me, where are you from Halen.

I was born on Uden and raised on Illium.

Ahh yes. I know Uden and I know Illium. The trees grow strong there. The soil is very good.

Hal smiled, feeling a strange sense of validation for her humble islands. As if she herself had planted and nursed every sapling on the land.

My roots spread throughout this forest. But even where they end my conscious continues still. I am the earth and the earth is me. You, Halen, are a child of the earth. That is why you have come to me. That is why you can sense me.

Hal felt a shiver run through her. Arya had said that the magic elves used was ancient, interwoven with nature itself and unique only to them. And even then, a wrongness at that had made Hal frown, although she hadn't been able to remember why. Now she did. Because she recalled Thea telling her something when Hal was bound and struggling on the hilltop on Uden:

Did you know that there is magic that predates that of the Ancient Language? The magic that flows through Alagaësia itself, gives it life and meaning and purpose. And the only people truly able to tap into this magic were so ancient, that they do not even exist in rumor or legend like the Grey Folk do. You've always felt it, Halen. Even when you were a child — your love of nature was no coincidence. Your very soul cried out to the magic of the world. Thrived in it. Found peace in it…

The tree thrummed in response to Hal's memory, and she forgot that she had lowered her shields. The tree, however, still remained carefully guarded. Not, Hal knew, out of lack of trust, but because the full brunt her conscious would probably split Hal in half completely. Perhaps it would even drive her to madness.

Yes… The tree was speaking again, and something in her voice seemed to awaken with memory of her own. Yes…I remember. I remember those who sang to me before the elves. Before the elf Linnëa became one with me. I have missed them greatly.

Hal could sense the tree's consciousness growing stronger.

I have not heard the elves singing as of late, she added in realization.

That is because they can't. Another magic user, much like me I am ashamed to say, untethered magic from the ancient language. The elves cannot use it anymore, nor can anyone else who relied on the language.

The tree did not respond at first, as if it were contemplating Hal's words. I have sensed this other, she said, speaking at last. She had been moving swiftly through the lands for some time now. But she has since gone quiet. I do not feel her anywhere in the land

Hal felt her stomach drop. You could sense her before? How?

Through the trees and earth that inhabited the area. Although…she now extends just beyond my reach, where life does not dare grow. So perhaps that is why she has been lost to me. But I do not have more to tell you. I'm sorry.

No, Hal disagreed, her eyes wide with understanding, no, you have told us much more than we deserve. Thank you.

You are welcome, child of the earth. As to the magic you say has been untethered: it was never meant to be bound to the language in the first place, the tree said. I can understand why the other like you desired to undo it. However, magic is also a gift, and I have quite liked having it shared amongst the races. I cannot return it entirely, as it must be fixed as it had been broken. But I hope that you will find a way to make things right once more.

But I don't —

The tree didn't wait for her to finish. Instead, she opened her mind completely and poured herself into Hal as if the young woman were a vessel. Or perhaps conduit was the better word. Through Hal, the tree could direct the magic that had flown through her for a millennia. Magic as old as the earth itself. But the tree did not overwhelm Hal like she thought it might. Instead, it carefully wove its tresses into her, until they shared a conscious. Hal's heart still beat in tandem to the tree's, but her magic felt amplified in a way she had never before imagined.

The tree began to speak, and Hal was shocked when she recognized the speech patterns and cadence as the same as what Thea used. Hal listened carefully, having placed both her palms on the tree to brace herself. As she spoke, she felt a warm glow about her, like she was being bathed in sunlight.

Hal closed her eyes. When she did, her mind merged completely with the entity. And suddenly, she was everywhere. She was in the branches, and in the roots. She was at the edge of the forest, in the ground, in the running waters. She moved through the ecosystem of life itself, realizing how truly interconnected it all was. She saw the sands of the desert through the dry grass the clung to life in its brutal habitat. She saw the birds, bears, and small animals that took refuge in the trunks and branches of the trees in the Spine. She saw the hunters who scurried up their sides to secure their belongings away from predators and the sleepy, quiet villages and cities that were dark, drifting into their deep slumbers.

This was not magic. This is what words like the ancient language manipulated to create magic. This was bigger, more powerful than that. This was wild and untamed.

Now go, child of the earth. And prosper.

And Hal was slammed back into her body with such force that she fell backwards as though she had been pushed. Feeling her stomach lurch int the air, only then did she remember that she had climbed the tree's roots and was higher up than she realized. But before she could hit the ground, something like Thorn's tail caught her and lowered her gently to the soft earth. But it was not Thorn. As they hovered over her head, moving back into place, she saw that it was the roots of the tree.

Goodbye, Halen, the tree whispered one last time. Until we meet again…

Hal stared up at the sky, a deep blue that it looked almost black, a blanket covering the earth. Slowly, the stars began to focus and her vision, almost blurry, began to shift back to normal. It took her a moment to reacquaint herself with her body, and especially her mind, the tree having taken up such a large presence in such a short amount of time. But even as she began to feel sane again, the presence of the world around her did not leave. Her body practically hummed with it.

HAL!

"HALEN!"

The voices of both Thorn and Murtagh came through muffled, even in her mind, like they were distant and dreamlike. Murtagh dropped to his knees, saying something, but Hal wasn't listening. She still felt like she had been separated from her body completely, floating up towards the sky like she weighed nothing.

Hal moved to cover her face, overcome with emotion and wanting to hide her eyes before anyone could see her cry. But she froze, staring at her hand and arm. Then she held up the other before yelping, sitting up in panic, her head swimming at the suddenness of which she moved. Her hand, her skin even, was glowing gold! It didn't hurt, but she had this frightening thought that she had somehow lit herself on fire.

Hal held her hands in front of her face, staring at them. Was this, perhaps, her magic? Yes, but no, she realized, answering her own question. Her magic felt as it always did. This connection she had though to the world around her was something else. Something she would have only been able to achieve by opening her mind. Now it simply existed within her like her own internal thoughts. Hal felt something bigger than herself opening inside her. She was truly insignificant, and yet part of something so grand that it filled her with a newfound meaning and purpose.

Hal shuddered in understanding and realization, gazing up at the tree with a bright smile that cut through the tears sitting on her cheeks. I will never forget this gift that you have given me. Thank you.

The tree didn't respond. But Hal could've sworn she felt the barest of caresses against her mind and knew her gratitude had been accepted.

…

"The Menoa Tree told you all of this?"

Hal nodded, and Arya furrowed her brows, letting Hal's words sink in as she finished describing her encounter with the entity. The elf queen folded her hands across the table where they all sat to discuss the new information. Hal had somewhat insisted on talking to Arya almost immediately, before the relevant details of her conversation with the Menoa Tree became muddled in the wake of the growing headache that was consuming her. But it had been rather awkward. They had moved through the throngs of elves that had seen and watched, staring in awe as Hal, Murtagh, and Thorn had had to walk past, Hal herself glowing like a bloody beacon all the while.

Now, Arya sat at the head of the table, with Murtagh and Hal on either side of her, all still in their night things. Under Hal's request, they had also invited Albriech and Baldor, Hal preferring that the people guarding her were kept as aware as possible. Arya didn't seem remotely upset, just concerned like the others, as to Hal's wellbeing. "Unprecedented" was the word the queen had used to describe this encounter — that word was being used more than Hal cared for to describe her life the past year — so there was no basis for if there were any aftereffects Hal should be wary of.

"I find the phrase that she used to be interesting," Arya continued. "'Child of the earth' seems to pertain closely to your use of magic. And the fact that the tree itself remembers this is telling as to just how deep your lineage runs." Her lips stretched into a rare smile. "Your very existence is so very remarkable, Halen."

She recalled Invidia and Blödhgarm having said something similar.

"Does anyone else know?"

"Just her majesty, Nasuada," Murtagh answered, "along with her advisors Jörmundur and Trianna. Oh, and Eragon. Although I'm not sure if any of them understands fully what this entails. They were more aware that Hal's magic wasn't tied to the language and that she is currently still able to use it. She recommended not telling anyone."

"And she was right. The less people who know, the better. For Hal's safety, we must not let the specifics of her magic and its origins get out. Even after this ordeal with Thea is over. I assume I do not have to explain the risks to anyone here."

Murtagh's jaw tightened as he slowly shook his head. No, she did not have to explain.

"Good. That brings me to the next point: returning magic as it was. The Menoa Tree indicated that this can only be done the way in which it was first taken away, correct?"

Hal nodded. "'It must be fixed as it had been broken.'"

The silence that followed was heavy, the thing they had feared most made real. "That concerns me. Because your theory, Hal, is that Thea required the spirits of the people she killed in the attack to perform the spell, correct?"

"Correct. Of course, I still don't fully understand the magic to confirm this. There are simply too many variables at play, such as how she knew the souls of the dead would even exist for her to control, and how she managed to control so many at once. And then there's the matter of the spell itself. The Menoa Tree spoke words that were not the ancient language, and I've heard Thea use them as well to perform magic. But I don't know anything about what was said."

"Thea and the Menoa Tree spoke a similar language?" Murtagh asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"Aye. When Thea used it, I assumed it was dark magic. But now, I wonder if perhaps it is the language of our ancestors that keep being referenced. As the story that the Grey Folk brought the ancient language, their language, here still seems to hold based on the information we have so far."

"It's possible. Do you think we would need to know the language to return magic as well?"

"That's what I'm afraid of," said Hal. "And I don't know it."

No one but Hal seemed put out by this though, and Murtagh was worried she was beginning to take on the full weight and responsibility of all of this. Although she had been insisting, she was well enough to talk with Arya about what had happened, he could see she was starting to look exhausted. Her gaze kept drifting off into the distance, and he could not help but wonder where exactly she was or what she was thinking.

"Then there's the matter of Thea herself," Hal added.

"Aye," said Arya. "Based on what the Menoa Tree told you, I'm inclined to trust your theory that she is indeed north. Especially considering that the reason I asked you to come here is because we may have discovered the passage to reach this land that you speak of."

Murtagh leaned forward in surprise. "You have?"

Arya nodded. "I did not, of course, realize Thea would have been connected, or I would have been a bit more urgent in sharing this information with you. However, I had done some digging after what Hal's magic proved capable of, as this land is infamous even amongst the elves. And it is feared. It is hidden by the mountains and likely by some kind of magic as well. We were always forbidden to seek it out. However, I think I was able to discover an approximate location. Of course, if Thea has been sighted by the tree in this area, we would have to discuss whether or not it is wise to investigate further."

Murtagh couldn't believe their sudden luck. If he could call it that. Finally, after all this time, the information was coming together. But if Thea really was residing where the eldunarí, Umaroth, had once warned him not to go…this might be the only chance they had of catching her unaware for once. The idea of finishing this sooner rather than later made it difficult to not at least talk through their options.

"Thorn and I would need approval from Nasuada," he said out loud to the table. "However, I think it is worth the effort. We have never been this close before and we may never get an opportunity like this again if we allow Thea to continue as she has without trying to strike first."

Arya seemed to agree, and she looked to Hal for her next question. "I can't imagine the pressure you must be feeling. But I must be straightforward and ask: as the only one who can use magic, and having traded blows with the Shade before, do you think you could best her in a fight?"

Hal's eyes widened a bit with surprise, then narrowed in thought, her expression hesitant. "It's hard to say. If we look at just magic alone, she's much more experienced than I am. I hate to admit it, but Thea has managed to best me more than I've managed to stop her."

Arya nodded. "I understand. Well, nothing is confirmed at this moment, so we have some time to figure out what comes next. We must write to Nasuada anyway and let her know what we've learned. If you were comfortable, you could remain here for the time being."

"Then you intend to inquire with Nasuada if we should go north," Murtagh asked, wanting to make sure.

"Aye. If we all agree it is a step we should take. And I believe that it is."

Murtagh looked over at Hal, unsure if she was ready to decide now or needed more time. But she surprised him, her face set with determination. The answer was obvious. He nodded to show he was on board.

"We will go," Hal answered, turning back to Arya.

"All right then. I will let Nasuada know in my letter. I would hate to send you all off on your own. If you don't mind, I want to send a small group of my best warriors to accompany you."

Hal's eyes widened as they shot to Murtagh. He blanched in surprise. "Are you sure? We would hate to extend your resources further after everything you've done during this time."

"Not at all, although thank you for your concern. Nasuada is my ally and friend, so I would do this for her regardless. But you all and Thorn are also friends of the elves under your own merits, and fellow dragon riders. I know my people would be honored to assist in any way they can."

"Then we humbly accept. Thank you."

She smiled. "I will be sure to introduce you all to your party in advance of your departure. In the meantime, you are dismissed to get some breakfast and rest. You especially Hal."

As they left, Baldor and Albriech stood on either side of Hal, asking in quiet voices how she was feeling. "Like a tree split my head open," she mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I feel worse now than I did when she first touched my mind."

"Do you think you can stomach eating?" Albriech asked.

"No. I think I need to lie down. I feel like even the morning light is torturing me at the moment."

When they reached the treehouse where Murtagh and Hal resided, Baldor helped Hal up the stairs while Murtagh, Thorn, and Albriech remained behind, waiting until Hal was out of earshot. Which Murtagh knew would mean when she was fully up in the apartment, and Albriech quietly followed his lead, saying nothing.

Only when Thorn confirmed that Hal was inside did Murtagh sigh and look at Albriech. "The situation grows more complex with every passing bit of information we gather," Murtagh grumbled. "And yet, none of it brings us any closer to understanding how to fix things."

"I'm also concerned about Hal's security," Albriech muttered. "Arya made a fair point about those who would be after Hal for her abilities. Or see her as a risk. And, well…"

When the pause dragged on, Murtagh grinned. "It's all right. You've more than earned the right to speak your mind. I trust your judgement."

Albriech nodded at the encouragement. "Well, her position was tenuous just as your open ally. While there was no doubting her relationship to you, things will almost certainly change as people continue to learn she is your wife. So now you have your position: a dragon rider, sworn to the queen, and both you and Nasuada will have your own supporters and enemies. And then there is Hal, someone people will know is important to you, who is powerful in her own right. Right now, the attention is on Thea. But when all of this is over, you and Hal will be at the center of one of the most defining moments in our country's history after Galbatorix. While her ancestry is not common knowledge, there were too many witnesses during the siege of her abilities to be comfortable with. As word continues to get out, people will see you as heroes..."

"And others will see us as threats," Murtagh finished with a sigh. "You've thought this through."

"I admit, it's been on my mind since we left Ilirea. We obviously ran into no issues but, in the future, I would like for Baldor or myself to be sent ahead to your destinations to scout for potential threats."

Murtagh didn't even try to hide how impressed he was. "That's a lot to ask. Are you sure that's okay?"

"We don't mind. You and Hal are good people. We'd hate to see anything happen to either of you knowing we could've done something to prevent it."

Murtagh grinned, clapping Albriech on the shoulder. "Then I accept. Thank you."

Not long after, Baldor came back to join them with an update on Hal. "She's lying down. She asked me to cover almost every place where light could get in, so it must be pretty bad. They did already bring some fruit up in case she's able to eat later."

Frowning, Murtagh asked, "Maybe I should ask Arya if there's a healer. I know magic is of no use, but perhaps there's something she can take."

"Albriech and I can go ask her majesty," Baldor offered. "You stay with Hal. We'll come back when we find something."

Murtagh nodded and the brothers departed. Sure enough, when Murtagh climbed inside, it seemed almost like it was dark outside. He feared how she might fare as the day progressed, should Hal's headache persist. He tried to keep his movements quiet as he entered the bedroom, spying nothing but a lump under the covers. Hal had buried herself in deep, but she softly called out to him as she heard him approach.

As he climbed into bed, Hal curled into his chest, making sure to keep her head down. "That bad?" he asked, worriedly.

"I feel like I can see sounds," she muttered, sounding almost on the verge of tears. "Like the contact with the Menoa Tree has taken my already heightened senses and overexposed them. Every noise feels too loud, every smell so sharp I can taste it, the light too bright. Even the fabrics on my skin almost feel like unbearable."

Murtagh didn't know what to say, so he just quietly held her in silence, wrapping his arms around her head and shoulders in a way that he hoped would block some of the light. They were quiet for so long that Murtagh had begun to assume Hal was asleep when she asked, "You know, up until now, I thought perhaps we had a chance at returning magic to the world."

"We still might."

"Murtagh, it must be fixed as it was broken. And it was broken by sacrificing the lives of countless people. Hell, even the original spell sacrificed the lives of the Grey Folk."

"Yes, but there still yet may be another way. We haven't exhausted all of our resources yet."

"Perhaps not, but our options are running thin."

"Thin is better than gone altogether. It means that there is still something for us to hold on to. And I will take whatever we can get."

"You are fouling my pitiful mood with your optimism."

He cleared his throat and recalled in a high-pitched voice: "'As long as I see that bright, shining, beautiful future where you and I are together, I will risk it all for that one chance everything will go right.'"

Hal was silent, then slowly peeked out from under the covers with an unamused expression. "I do not sound like that."

"Oh, yes you do. All noble and full of hope. Where do you think I got it from?"

"Well obviously you get your best traits from me, but that imitation was dreadful."

"If you can still wax such poetic snark than I'm increasingly less worried about you."

"I'm ill, you are supposed to take care of me."

"I am taking care of you. Lifting one's spirit is an important part of care."

Hal loudly smacked her lips, ducking her head back under the covers. Only this time, she lifted the covers over his head as well, effectively pulling him down with her so that they could immerse themselves in the silence.

…

Murtagh didn't remember falling asleep, having told himself to remain awake and alert should Hal need him. But in a faint moment of consciousness, he realized his arms were empty and jolted to attention. Bleary-eyed, he stared at the empty space in the bed, somewhat cold already. However, he didn't have to look far, spotting Hal sitting by the gap in the wall and staring off into the moonless night. He blanched in surprise. It was already dark? He knew they had all had their sleep cut short the previous night, but he had expected only to sleep a few hours at most. Clearly, he was more tired than he realized.

Arms hugging her knees to her chest, she sat under a heavy, almost sad silence. The last remnants of the golden aura had finally disappeared, leaving Hal looking as though nothing unusual had happened.

He moved just so that she would know he was up, sitting up in bed as he stifled a yawn. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not sure. Maybe only an hour or so."

"How's your head?"

She didn't immediately answer, and Murtagh began to grow nervous. Finally, she said, "I think I understand now what the Menoa Tree gifted me with."

Now she really had his attention.

"Come, sit with me." She patted the space beside her.

Climbing curiously to his feet, Murtagh padded over quietly to her side. Once he was seated and comfortable, Hal said, "I think I can hear the trees talking."

He blinked. "The trees…what?"

She chuckled. "I know, it sounds ridiculous, but I don't know how else to describe it. They woke me up, these faint whispers in my ear. But I wasn't afraid. I got up, came here, and I've just been listening, letting myself adjust to the noise. I think that's why it pained me so much before — everything just felt loud and overwhelming."

"Is there anything else?"

She grinned, perhaps somewhat relieved he wasn't writing her off as mad. "I feel more connected to the earth than before. Like I can feel its energy and how it moves through the ground. It's almost like the currents in the ocean or air in the sky when you're riding on Thorn. It's so…much. And so beautiful."

"A child of the earth," he repeated, the words finally starting to make sense. "A person genuinely connected to the world and nature."

They both looked back out at the night sky, starry and lovely. Just then, a faint noise drifted up towards them, a wind instrument playing a mournful tune. It must not have been nearly as late as Murtagh had first assumed if the inhabitants were still awake. Or maybe, simply, they too found it hard to sleep tonight.

"I did realize something else though, as I've been sitting here," Hal added, her voice soft so that they could still hear the music.

"Hmm, what's that?"

She didn't respond. Not until he looked over at her expectantly. Something in her gaze made his heart skip with nervous anticipation, drawing him in. She leaned forward, bracing herself on his shoulder as she began to whisper in his ear her true name. Murtagh immediately began to shake with emotion, feeling a sort of euphoric thrill, a melody of sorts that made the elven music pale in comparison. There was such beauty and life in her name, just as there was also heartbreak and sorrow. But the love — for him, Thorn, her people, her islands — was so bountiful by comparison to everything else.

When she was finished, she began to sit back, but he immediately turned his head and kissed her, letting his hand cradle the back of her neck. This moment felt transcending. To have come so far in life that another should trust him with their name felt like the ultimate gift. To know that he was part of her name, just as she was his, cemented their bond deeper than the vows of their marriage.

She smiled against his lips as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. Hal pulled back a bit, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him. Enchanted, Murtagh barely felt aware of her standing, her hand in his as she pulled him to his feet and guided him back to the bed.

Hal made him sit down on the edge, watching him. For a moment, neither of them moved, Hal thinking and Murtagh waiting to see what she would do. Although unspoken, he got the sense that she wanted to lead tonight. Her eyes traveled over the planes of his face, his loose-fitting garments he wore to bed, debating with herself where she wanted to start. Yet, just off her look alone Murtagh felt excited. Whatever she told him, he would do without question.

She finally moved, slowly lowering herself to her knees. Without thinking, Murtagh blurted, "Wait!"

She stilled, momentarily confused as Murtagh turned, fumbling awkwardly as he grabbed one of the pillows at the top of the bed. Turning back to Hal, his face beet red, he muttered, "Here, get up for just a moment."

Hal pressed her lips together to hide her laughter, but she listened. He swallowed, setting the pillow on the floor. Clearing his throat nervously, he said, "There you go."

Hal took a deep breath, setting the palm of her hand gently on his cheek, raising his gaze up to hers. She leaned down and Murtagh closed his eyes as her lips brushed over his. "You're always so good to me, rider. Let me take care of you tonight," she told him.

Then she pulled back, folding smoothly to her knees once again. Her fingers diligently worked the small tie of his trousers before his erection finally sprung free. His heart was racing so loudly in his chest, Murtagh knew Hal had to hear it. Pumping blood, hot and needy, to his cock. His body was flush with anticipation, eyes stuck on Hal as she let her fingers just barely brush along the length of his shaft. She held him witch tenderness, eyes fluttering closed as she planted the softest of kisses on him. Each move felt calculated, no kiss landing in the same spot twice. Her tongue took a fleeting taste of him, but only enough to make him wanton.

She pulled back, eyes dancing teasingly as Murtagh's jaw tightened with need. She reached for the hem of her nightgown, lifting it up, up, and over her head. She tossed the material to the ground, completely naked. Murtagh moved to go to her but she stopped him with a look. His eyes were so focused on her gaze, he almost missed the way her hands caressed her breasts, mimicking his own touch as she pinched and pulled at her nipples. His cock twitched, along with his hand as he fought against his instinct to lunge for her and plant himself between her legs. But he was so captivated that he just felt frozen in place, his mouth going dry as he watched her.

Slowly, Hal's hands drifted down to her stomach, eyes closed, lost in her own touch. And then, fuck, her hands were on her thighs, breadths away from her sex. Murtagh was panting now, his breaths so loud he almost missed Hal when she softly called his name just as her hand cupped her center. "Murtagh," she breathed, her hand moving between her legs, "I'm so wet."

He wondered how long this had been on her mind, another thought that made him ache. He shivered as she pulled her hand away, her fingers glistening. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as she used that same hand to grip his now throbbing cock. She began to pump him slowly, her grip just loose enough so that he would not come too quickly. She paused every so often to let her tongue run over the places her hand and fingers had been, making sure her stroke wasn't too dry. Then, when he was delirious for more, she took his erection in her mouth. Murtagh's moan was low and long; Hal raised her head briefly, just long enough for her other hand to fall back between her legs. She let out a small cry at her own touch before her mouth returned to him, this time with more hunger. The sight of her head rising and falling in his lap, her mouth and hand wrapped around his cock, and her other hand between her legs, finger fucking herself, was too much. He had to fight not to come, fight to keep his eyes on Hal when all he wanted to do was close them and let this pleasure wash over him completely.

"Halen, your mouth feels so good on me," he muttered. He groaned loudly as she carefully ran her teeth up his length. Before he could stop himself, he gripped the back of her head. Hal whined, the hand between her leges pumping vigorously as she tried to catch up to him. His thrusts were minimal, but the sound of Hal, completely full of him, trying hard to keep with the rhythm he was now setting as he got close, was thrilling. Her whines sounded like she was begging for him to come, sending vibrations through him until, with a jerk, he reached his climax.

Hal tried not to move, but her own orgasm proved too much and she raised her head, crying out as her hands saw them both through their respective climax. By the time, Murtagh felt sane enough to open his eyes, he saw that he had made a mess across his lap and Hal's chest. Dare he move to get a washcloth for them? He watched Hal as she slowly caught her breath, mesmerized by the way she looked in the dark, shrouded in nothing but starlight and sex.

Just like that, the towel was forgotten and Murtagh growled, "Come here."

She bit down on her lower lip to hide her smile but she rose to her feet. He pulled her into his lap, Hal straddling his waist as their lips met in a flurry of kisses. Murtagh let his tongue explore the sensual taste of her mouth. His hand went between her legs to see for himself the results of her masturbation. Still sensitive, Hal's entire body shuddered at the contact, but her hand was quick to cover his to make sure he didn't pull back.

"You're so greedy, my love," he teased, kissing her neck. She didn't respond, rocking back and forth against his fingers, as if her own hadn't been enough. Her breath in his ear echoed completely in his head. "I bet you wish this was my cock, don't you?"

She groaned her response.

"Is that what you want? Or do you want to come on my hand first?"

"Neither," she gasped. Then she pushed him back on the bed, clamoring forward with outright feral need. Murtagh welcomed her with open arms, gripping her hips as she hovered over him, lowering her sex to his mouth.

Hal rocked her hips against him, mewing as she gathered her breasts in her hands. "Oh, yes. Oh, you're perfect, rider. So fucking…fuck!"

Every breath he managed to take overwhelmed his senses with her. She came quickly, but Murtagh refused to let her get up yet. His tongue had barely gotten a taste. He hooked his arm around one of her thighs, letting his other hand spread across the length of her back, feeling how her pleasure rippled through her body. He looked up at her through his lashes, the sight of her above him like this making his cock clench. He couldn't tell who was more wanton as she rocked back and forth against his mouth.

His tongue and lips feasted on Hal until she was coming again. Yet he still didn't let go. Not yet, not as his mouth finally covered her clitoris, which he had managed to avoid direct contact with. Now he gave it his undivided attention, slipping two fingers between her legs as he let his mouth fuck her into oblivion. And judging by the sounds she was making and how slick his fingers were from her own cum, it was working.

She was bouncing on his fingers, trying to minimize her movements so that she didn't break the connection with his lips. She was gasping like had been sprinting for miles, stuttering over herself as she tried to call his name.

This time, her orgasm seemed to undo Hal completely as she cried out with unrefined abandon. By the time she was done, her entire body had gone limp and she fell off him and onto the bed, looking like she was seconds from passing out completely. Murtagh licked his lips, rock hard as he watched her and the beautiful mess he had made between her legs with just his mouth.

Hal rolled onto her side, reeling from the aftershock of her orgasm, just in time to see him clean his fingers off with his tongue. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as he then moved to hover over her. "Heavens Murtagh, are you trying to make sure all of Du Weldenvarden hears me?"

"Maybe," he whispered, his own breathing labored just from the thrill of watching her. However, more seriously, he asked, "Was that too much?"

It took her a moment to respond, but she was smiling, her eyes closed. "Yes," she finally answered. "I mean no. It was a lot but not in a bad way."

He grinned, kissing the spot just below her ear. He let her rest, kissing her back, her neck, her shoulders, to help her calm down. She did not flinch when he kissed her scars, releasing a small sigh as if completely and utterly content. His heart burst with love at the overwhelming emotion crashing through his entire being.

"You're beautiful," he told her when he was facing her once again.

Her smile was endearing and shy. Precious and all his. She raised a hand to his cheek, their gazes suspended as if time itself had grown still. "I love you, Murtagh. So much."

He kissed her lips, unable to describe what was coming over him. But neither of them was resisting, and it was beautiful to behold. They still did not talk as she moved on top of him, her hands removing his pants and shirt completely. When she gripped his weeping erection, Murtagh felt dizzy as she stroked him for a bit before guiding him close to where they both desperately wanted him to be.

Just as he sheathed himself inside her, he felt the familiar touch of her mind on his. And he graciously welcomed it. But he wasn't prepared for the dazzling explosion of senses that consumed him. Hal groaned delightfully as she felt his own pleasure thrown back at her. His grip on her thighs tightened. It already felt good, laying with Hal, how she wrapped around him so perfectly both warm and soft. But feeling what she did — including his own pleasure — seemed to magnify everything.

Like before, they were quick at finding their rhythm: a long, smooth stroke that was just high enough on the friction without compromising how sensitive it all felt. Hal's emotions feeding into his mind, he knew when they reached the easy-going, deft pace that she liked, the angle that made her grip him tighter. Her fingers pinched and tugged at her breasts; the sight unbearably erotic that Murtagh had to throw his head back as it all overwhelmed him. He was dizzy with all that was filling his head, blinded by the way in which his body pleasured her. The room was filled with sounds of their love-making, how they would both cry out with almost every thrust of his hips. Every inch of this space was consumed by this.

Hal must have felt just as much as he did. Was just as delightfully overwhelmed and aroused by it. Her cries climbed higher and higher and he wanted so badly kiss her. But he did not dare do anything that would disrupt this beautiful rhythm they had set.

I love you, Halen, he told her, letting his words fill her since his tongue was too thick for it. I love you, Hal. Let go. Let go, so that I can feel you.

And she threw her head back and did exactly as he said.