CHAPTER 13

..x..

The day darkened as the full moon rose, its light threatening to drown that of the stars over the inky blackness of the sky. A cool breeze caressed the canopy of the trees, causing their branches to moan in protest. But it was not all peaceful silence as the thundering clash of metal against metal cut through the stillness of the night.

Two figures were locking blades, their silhouettes shifting with great speed before the glare of their campfire. Everil huffed, brow covered in sweat as Zevran's dagger collided with hers, swift and surprisingly strong. A roar escaped her as she parried it off, just as he brought around his other blade. She leaned backward, inadvertently granting her sparring partner a chance to strike. Her dagger flew from her hand when he hit it, leaving her to bring up her sword for another block.

"Tell me again why they're doing this?" Alistair tilted his head to Leliana, who was seated next to him and Everil's hound by the fire. He kept his attention on the sparring duo, fingers absently scratching behind Bjorn's ear.

"Everil just wants to broaden her skill set." Leliana smiled, also following their movements.

"I still don't get it. I mean, of course, I worry about her in battle—and I know she can be reckless sometimes—but she's still the strongest person I know."

"She's a leader and it is also a leader's duty to improve on any perceived weaknesses," Wynne explained while taking a seat next to the nun, all wounds thankfully healed.

Everil swung in a sideways slash while Zevran ducked, the sword swooshing over his head. She attacked downward, he sidestepped, dodging while swinging before she easily deflected the hit. Their weapons met again and again, but the Warden soon noticed something was off. She clicked her tongue and locked blades with him. "Don't go easy on me, Zevran!"

"Whatever are you talking about, my lady?" he asked with a mock hurt look.

"I can tell you're holding back," she huffed, withdrew and attacked once again as he blocked. "I'm a grown woman, I can take a hit!"

Smirking wickedly, Zevran struck, knocking the sword out of her hand. He spun and landed a swift kick on her stomach, forcing the air out of her. She coughed and stumbled, grunting a curse.

"Fine, I'll be honest with you, lass," Zevran said with a wink. "You are as slow as a fisherman's one-legged wife."

"What…?" Everil blinked at him a few times, then scowled in frustration. "Damn it… Is it my sword's weight?"

"That and your technique is different." He crossed his arms, putting on a lopsided smile. "I am an assassin, trained to kill by the best. My job is to eliminate the target as quickly as possible, without them seeing me coming or via a surprise attack like the one I used on you in Denerim. We simply have to be swift in every way to be successful. You, on the other hand, are constantly on the defensive. You were trained by a swordsman, no?"

"My father and brother taught me everything I know when it comes to swordsmanship. My skills as a rogue came from my mother."

"Then you are bound to be slower than I am… and lack the precision to kill quickly. If you want to be faster, then you have to change the way you fight."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Hmm… Drop the sword for a dagger. The lighter weapon will give an additional kick to your speed." He shrugged and smiled at her. "It's a riskier technique when compared to yours, but once you get used to it you can become a much deadlier opponent."

Sighing, she walked over to her blade and picked it up, gazing upon it reflectively for a lingering moment. Elethea was all she had left of her family's aside from her name, it was not just any weapon. It was a friend now. An old friend practically passed down to her by her parents just before they gave up their lives for her. Letting it go would feel as if she was abandoning them… all over again.

"No… I'll find a way to be more efficient with my sword. If only a little," she said to the elf. "Can we do this again next time we camp? I would like more practice to find improvements."

Zevran chuckled playfully. "Of course, my lady. I did enjoy our dance."

"Thank you..." She carefully sheathed the blade at her side, then turned to Bjorn. "Come on, boy... How about we take a bath before we get some sleep?" The hound barked excitedly and left Alistair's side to follow his mistress to the small lake near the camp.

"Say…"A curious Zevran observed her retreating form before gazing at the rest of their party. "Why does she seem so attached to that blade?"

"It belonged to her family... They were all killed a few months ago," was Alistair's solemn response as he meekly poked at the coals.

"Ah..." Zevran took a seat by the fire to warm his hands. "Is that why she joined the Grey Wardens? Because her family was murdered?"

He averted his gaze guiltily. "In… a way."

"You were there when it happened, weren't you?" asked Leliana, frowning up at him.

Alistair nodded slowly. "And… every time I think about it, I wish Duncan and I could've done something to stop it. Instead, we watched Highever Castle fall and basically forced Everil's father to let us recruit her in exchange for helping her escape. Not the most heroic thing to do…"

"Don't dwell on such things, young man." Wynne smiled warmly at him, gently placing a hand on his forearm. "You have done well in being there for her ever since."

"Yeah…" He half-smiled. "Thanks…"

"Your story reminds me of a time when I assassinated this beautiful woman's abusive husband," Zevran placed an arm on a bent knee. "Needless to say it was love at first sight."

Alistair scoffed. "Are you sure it was love and not your urges talking?"

"I love all women, Warden." The elf let out a sultry chuckle, brown eyes twinkling with mirth. "It is my goal to make them all happy—both in life and in bed. Perhaps I should give you a few pointers?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, thanks…"

"Returning to the previous topic," Leliana interjected. "Is Everil the last of her family?"

"We don't know…" Alistair sighed. "Everil's brother was in Ostagar leading Highever's forces. We thought he may have survived but we haven't heard from him… or of him, for that matter."

Wynne shook her head sadly. "Such a shame… The Couslands were one of the oldest families in Ferelden. Well respected."

"Yeah…" Alistair stared angrily at the flickering flames before them. "I just hope we can get justice for them too. When this is all over… Maybe Arl Eamon can help punish Rendon Howe along with Loghain for everything they've done."

"Rendon Howe? He was involved in their deaths?" Wynne seemed surprised. "Is that why he sent his men to capture her back in Denerim?"

"Yeah. He was the one who attacked her castle. He's in cahoots with Loghain too." Alistair let out a single, humorless chuckle. "Heh… He's probably his right-hand man, actually. Considering his involvement in some of his schemes…"

"I'm sure justice will come in due time. Someone like him can't possibly get away with murder," said Leliana.

He nodded. "We'll see once we find the Urn of Sacred Ashes."

The others quietly agreed, all joining him in watching the light of the fire in comfortable silence.

.x.x.x.x.

Morrigan ran a wet rag along her bare arm, wiping off all dirt and sweat. Jet-black hair lay damp over delicate shoulders and down her chest, not quite covering her supple breasts. She gazed at the night sky, taking in the twinkling stars. It was so peaceful and quiet out in the wilderness, something she was very accustomed to. But it was different here than in the Wilds, with no dangerous shadows where beasts and barbarians lay in wait. It also lacked the scent of death and the swamp, which had been unnoticeable to her until now. Still, she felt a sense of nostalgia, recalling how her bare feet splashed in the wet mud and over mossy rocks.

All while she was being groomed by her mother to be both a tool and her vessel.

Curse her… Morrigan glared bitterly into the darkness, trying her hardest to shove aside the subtle ache in her heart. What was done, was done. There was nothing she could do now but prepare and keep running away from the creature she'd once called Mother.

Movement coming from the trees made her catlike stare snap to the approaching figure as she submerged her body.

Everil paused halfway to the shore upon spotting her. "Morrigan. I didn't know you were here."

"Others need to wash up too, as you well know." Morrigan lifted her nose, relaxing upon seeing who it was. "Though some in our little party do not bathe as often as they should."

"Mind if I join you? I still have demon blood in my hair."

She shrugged. "Do what you will, I care not."

Everil smiled and strode over to the shoreline while unbuckling her armor, hound in toe. The witch subtly watched her strip as she continued to bathe, observing with disinterest. It was odd how much closer they'd become. To her, modesty wasn't something that was necessary. A naked body was as natural as anything else around her. But there was a different sort of comfort when you trust enough to show your nudeness to another.

After she undressed, Everil picked up her gear, leaving her shirt and trousers on the ground. She bent over to wash the blood off the thick cloth, metal, and leather, using her fingers to scrub the pieces.

Despite having only moonlight to see, Morrigan noticed the scar on her shoulder and the few red scratches marrying her fair skin, like quiet medals of battles won. The light curved around the woman's firm muscles, emphasizing her strength as her arms moved while she worked. It was a body built for battle, stronger than hers, yet somehow still feminine. "Did the elf teach you something? Or did he merely drool over you the entire time."

Everil looked up from her armor. "He did teach me something, actually. Zevran is not as callow as he appears."

"Your impression of our male companions is quite baffling..."

The Warden let out a chuckle and set her damp gear aside. She entered the lake, shivering as the cold water touched her skin. Bjorn went in with a running jump, splashing both women and drawing a squeal out of them.

"Agh, you mangy beast!" Morrigan snapped irritably, rubbing her face.

"Sorry," Everil laughed.

The witch clicked her tongue and glared daggers at the dog as it happily swam past her, completely ignoring her dirty look. Meanwhile, Everil leaned over to wash her hair, scrubbing her scalp and untangling the knots forming at the ends.

"So…" Morrigan began, dragging the rag down her neck. "You and that idiot Alistair have grown serious…"

"I suppose we have..." Everil felt a small smile tug at her lips, their first night together coming to her mind.

"The two of you are making a mistake."

Her smile faded and she sent her a puzzled frown. "What?"

"After our conversation in Redcliffe, I'd hoped that perhaps you would make a sound decision and avoid falling for that fool. But alas, you chose to take this path, ignoring the consequences and risking letting a useless feeling get in the way of your task."

"I am not ignoring the consequences…" Everil released a soft breath, slightly annoyed. "I will uphold my duty regardless of if I'm with Alistair or not. In fact, being with him will drive me to fight harder… for both of us. And I'm sure he feels the same way. That alone will keep us grounded."

"You say this now, but I assure you… you will come to regret it later," Morrigan uttered, arrogantly turning her gaze away from her.

"I'll be fine, Morrigan… there's no need for you to fret over me." Everil pulled her hair over a shoulder, continuing to work off the knots.

"I do not 'fret', Warden..." Morrigan scowled, something indescribable flashing over her eyes. "Do as you will. Just do not come to me weeping when the time comes—you may save that for the nun." The witch then stood, revealing her pale, naked curves to the other woman. She strode towards the shore while Everil saw her go, taking notice of how delicate her silhouette was when compared to her own. The mage clearly took good care of her body, seeming more like a doll out of a glass box than someone bred in the cruel wilderness of the Korcari Wilds.

Morrigan dressed without another word and made for her side of camp, leaving the Grey Warden behind. She trekked through the brush and emerged in the clearing, veering away from the other tents and towards her own, secluded corner. Voices drew her attention and she spotted Alistair and Leliana sitting by the fire, making idle conversation. She stopped just long enough to look their way.

Sensing movement, Alistair gazed up from the flames and to where she now stood, his stare briefly meeting hers. He sent her a nod of acknowledgment Morrigan didn't return, irritation rising up within her as she resumed her stride. An amused grin spread over his lips as he turned to the redhead sitting next to him. "Did you feel that chilling breeze just now?"

Leliana hopelessly shook her head. "You two really should make an effort and get along."

"Hah! Right... You should try telling her that."

.x.x.x.x.

Once done with her bath, Everil returned to camp wearing only her white shirt, trousers, and boots. She strolled over to her tent, carrying the rest of her newly cleaned gear. Her gambeson was laid to dry over a bush beside it before she ducked in through the flaps to store away the rest. She glanced over at her furs, seeing them empty, waiting for her. But this time, she didn't accept their invitation. Instead, she left her tent and gazed towards the campfire, seeing only Leliana next to it.

Everil craned her head to Alistair's tent and bit her lip, the urge to see him beckoning her to it. She briefly glanced at Leliana's back once more, then quietly crossed the distance from her tent to his, Bjorn trailing closely behind her.

Her heartbeat faster the closer she became, drumming in her ears by the time she found herself standing just outside. She anxiously licked her lips and knocked on the side pole before glancing over her shoulder at the other tents across their camp. Rustling was heard from inside, then the sound of something being kicked, followed by a quiet curse that caused her to stifle a chuckle. The flap opened soon after, revealing a slightly disheveled Alistair, with no armor and clad only in his white shirt and trousers.

A corner of his lips went up at the sight of her. "Hey..."

"Hey." Everil tilted her head with a smile. "Did I wake you?"

"Uhm, no…" He cleared his throat and gingerly took her hand in his. "I was actually hoping you'd stop by to kiss me good night..."

"Oh? So you were waiting for me...?"

"Mhm..."

"Silly man…" A light laugh escaped her. "What if I hadn't come?"

He playfully pursed his lips. "Then I would've been very, very sad..."

"Aw…" She sensually stepped closer, smiling seductively while resting a hand on his chest. "Well, I'm here… Shall we kiss good night now?"

"All right… " He gently cupped her cheek and softly pressed his lips to hers. "Hm… Not enough…"

Everil chuckled as another kiss came, then another, and another, each one luring her into his tent. Bjorn remained outside, lying by the door with a tired yawn.

Warning: Strong adult content ahead ;)

As soon as they found privacy, their muted pecks deepened into a passionate kiss. He released a heavy breath as his hands gripped her firmly by the hips, earning a needy whimper. Everil's arms slithered around his neck and she moaned weakly, her tongue dancing with his in a slow, sensual waltz. Heat surged through her, rising from her core like a climbing flame and warming her chilled body.

Her palms crawled to his broad chest, craving to touch more of those hardened muscles, to feel his skin under her fingertips. They snuck under his shirt as she nibbled on his bottom lip, trailing up his abs and to his pecs as he released a shuddering breath. They briefly pulled away when she pulled off the piece of clothing, exposing his torso to her feather-like caress. Toned muscles tensed beneath her hands as he reclaimed her mouth once more, hungrily devouring those delicious lips of hers. She felt herself shuffling backward as he led her to his furs on the ground. And he carefully laid her over them before his heavier body pinned her down, hips between her legs.

Everil groaned as his lips broke from hers, then kissed her chin, and along her jaw. Her pelvis rocked impatiently as his bulging erection pressed against her center, teasing her with what was to come. She tilted her head with a blissful sigh, allowing him better access to the sensitive spots along her slender neck. Alistair sprinkled wet kisses over her drumming pulse, a calloused hand reaching for her shirt as she moaned softly for him.

He kissed his way down to her collarbone, then to her heaving chest. Steadier fingers pulled on the long cord of her shirt, opening it wider to reveal more of her to his lips. Alistair continued his way down, pushing up her shirt just enough to reveal her own, toned abs. His tongue stroked her skin, creating goosebumps as she whimpered and tensed beneath him. And he kept moving downwards, until he knelt between her legs, leaning back to untie the string on her trousers. Then he impatiently pulled on her pants, but Everil halted him, reaching for him. "Alistair, w-wait… My boots. They'll be in the way."

He glanced at her, then at her legs and feet. "Oh… right."

Everil propped herself up on her elbows and gave him a tiny smile, watching as he began undoing the buckles on one of her boots. "Sorry... It seems you have a little more work to do this time."

Forced to slow down to undress her, Alistair looked at her and let out a deep, throaty chuckle that made her shiver. "Worth the effort..."

He breathed deeply to calm his raging urges and patiently worked on the straps of one of the boots. Upon setting them loose, he gently pulled it off, then discarded it somewhere behind him. More straps were unclasped as he worked on the other, ridding himself of it before gently caressing her foot. And he was a little surprised at how soft and delicate they were, despite all the walking they'd done.

"You know, this may sound strange right now..." He cast a loving gaze upon her and softly kissed her angle, leaving a tingling feeling. "But you have pretty feet…"

Everil laughed a little. "I admit I've never heard a man tell me that before..."

"Well, then I'm happy to be the first on that too…" he joked with another chuckle. After releasing her leg, Alistair took hold of her trousers and carefully slid them down, removing them from her.

Cool air touched her bare skin, but it was what he did next that made her shudder.

Leaning over, he ever so softly brushed his lips over her exposed abdomen, his breath hot and heavy. She lay back down with a moan, an aching sensation spreading up from between her legs as he descended further. No man had ever made her feel this special, his tender caress leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Alistair untied the string tying her underwear in place at each side of her hips, releasing the knot and getting closer to his goal. Smiling a little, he pulled on the thin cloth, uncovering her feminine parts as her gentle, musky scent graced his nostrils. The sweetness of it beckoned him like a bear drawn to honey. And he lustfully eyed her sex, admiring the glistening, rosy petals nestled within a crown of dark, brown curls.

"Alistair…?" she breathed, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

He responded by hovering closer and smiling tenderly at her, causing her blush to deepen. His lips brushed over her womb, the soft kisses traveling lower. And lower. His mouth was dangerously close and all Everil could do was watch as her heart rammed against its cage.

Alistair kept traveling south until very gently, he kissed the top of her curls. She gasped, feeling herself twitch in spite of the simplicity of the action. Curiosity kept her eyes glued to him, seeing him slide his hands under her thighs and lift them, making her bend the knees further.

"W-Wait…!" Everil squealed, instinctively trying to close them.

His hungry stare met hers, completely disarming her. She gulped.

"It's all right, dear… I love what I see," he coaxed her while gently spreading her legs, revealing a better view of her moist sex. Alistair swallowed thick, feeling his own pulse drum in his ears at the sight of her while also regretting not having seen such beauty during their first time. He so badly wanted to taste her. To feel what it would be like to suckle on those silky petals.

"Uhm..." Everil looked on with anticipation, breathing as if she'd just ran a mile.

Shamelessly, he met her gaze and lowered his mouth over her, eyes glazed with desire.

"W-what are you—?"

His hot, wet tongue pressed against her and slowly slid between her folds, stroking over her g spot along the way. He felt the bud pulse under it and watched as she threw her head back with a gasp, revealing to him her weakest point. Smiling inwardly at the discovery, he continued, his tongue coming back down and stroking through her petals, flicking her hard bud.

She stifled a cry, grabbing on to the furs. "Oh, Maker…!"

Now more confident, Alistair closed his eyes and lapped at her, the wet sounds joining her moans as she quivered. Her scent and her quiet cries were his only focus, his tongue drawing more of that sweet nectar as it trickled from within her. And he wanted more of it, to drink from this flower. His mouth enveloped her and he suckled greedily, a throaty groan rumbling from deep within him.

Everil moaned loudly, eyes shut in ecstasy when sharp pleasure washed over her like a rolling wave. She'd never felt such sensation, so deep and so personal. So vulgar, yet so right.

His firm grip kept her bucking hips under control as her reactive movements urged him further. And her hand reached for him as if she were lost in a fog, gently grabbing at his hair as he noisily pleased her. Each time, he focused his tongue on her clit, the mind-numbing wet strokes getting closer and closer to shattering her world.

"Ah...!" Everil gasped for air, struggling to speak. "Alistair… If you… If you keep going... I will..."

Releasing a heavy sigh, Alistair listened to her plea and his ministrations slowed to a stop, his eyes opening to meet hers once more. With a small smile, he licked his lips, the sight so sensual that she shook. He then moved up to kiss her, drawing a muffled moan out of her as his tongue entered her mouth. She could taste herself in those lips, the tartness oddly fueling her need for him as if he'd tossed wood into a blazing hearth.

Alistair went for his breeches, but before he knew it, he was on his back with Everil straddling him. She hungrily devoured his lips, panting between deep kisses while grinding her hips over his. A whimper escaped her as his excited bulge rubbed against her now soaked, aching parts, her body begging for release. Feeling her moisture through his trousers, he released a deep groan, hands grabbing her bare behind as the pressure in his groin grew.

Then she broke away from their kiss, lips flushed as she leaned up.

"Everil…" Alistair moaned her name while she desperately untied his pants, biting her bottom lip as his erection twitched eagerly beneath its prison. Once finished, she triumphantly pulled down the fabric just enough to set him free, his manhood standing at attention for her.

Her first task done, she leaned up, lifting her hips as her delicate fingers wrapped around his rod, making him shudder as a breath caught in his throat. Once again wearing her bottom lip, she slowly lowered herself upon him. A drawn-out moan escaped them both as every inch of him filled her, stretching her until he reached her top.

Everil mewled as she slowly moved her hips, feeling him slide in and out of her, sparks shooting through her in tingling ripples. She brushed her lips over his while he moaned, his hands moving along her skin from her thighs to her sides. Alistair then tugged on her shirt, trying to take it off completely. She leaned back, still moving up and down in an agonizing pace as she helped him remove the piece of clothing. Then her hands reached for the center of her bra, untying the knot between her breasts. She discarded the piece of clothing, leaving her completely bare for him to touch.

He wasted no time, rough hands enveloping her breasts, massaging them as she kept moving over him. Moaning as he slid in and out within her, Everil placed her hands over his chiseled chest, gazing down at his lustful eyes as she continued to ride him like one would a noble steed.

"Oh, you look so beautiful…" he whispered breathlessly, kneading and fondling her soft mounds as she arched her back to him.

The sensation slowly intensified and Everil groaned with need, moving a little faster, coming up, only to come back down. The friction was like heaven, every inch of his length stroking her walls at just the right angle. Just the right pressure.

Calloused hands gently slid south over her now shimmering body, taking a firm hold of her pelvis. And he panted as he watched her breasts bounce with the motions, her hot insides drawing him away from reality. He wished to please her more, to hear her more. To make her his a hundred times over.

He thrust up then, meeting her each time she came down, pumping in and out of her. The deep, sharp penetration sent a jolt of electricity shooting through her body, and she had to force herself not to scream. "Oh, darling…!"

"Keep going…" Alistair groaned breathlessly as he watched her bounce on him, heat coursing through his veins as his own sounds of pleasure grew louder. His strong hands easily took charge of her, driving her rhythm at his will as his hips bucked to meet her own.

And just like that, she was no longer in control. It all soon became too much, and she felt herself unable to keep her tone down. Panting with the effort, Everil leaned down, then pressed her lips to his for a passionate kiss, seeking to silence her own voice. Taking the opportunity, Alistair rolled them over, one hand grabbing one of her glutes as their loins met in a hard, slightly off tempo. Until he found his rhythm, her loud whimpers muffled by his mouth.

Shaking arms wrapped around his back, her nails pressing against his flesh as his hard member continued its relentless assault upon her depths. He slightly broke away to breathe heavily, pressing his lips to her cheek, his breath hot against her skin.

"I can't… I can't keep... my voice…" she whined weakly as if speaking would break her concentration.

"Then let them hear…" Alistair breathed huskily before giving her one, two, three hard thrusts, instantly taking away her restraint.

"Ah…Maker!" she gasped and cried out, her head rolling back as he leaned down to nuzzle her racing pulse. Each pump drew forth more of her passionate moans, another groan, another squeal, and her song was the only thing he wanted to hear.

"Oh, yes…" His voice was thick with lust as he picked up speed, hips grinding against hers each time they met with a resounding slap. He was still a little off, but without the nerves of their first time, he was bolder, more certain, more precise.

It was an all too intoxicating mixture that drove her to do what he wanted. Anything to keep him going until they both reached their crashing demise together. "Oh, yes!" she cried out. "D-Don't stop!"

He moaned into her ear while pounding into her, and she squealed, feeling herself quickly approaching the incoming cliff. Her aching, vaginal walls throbbed, the delicious pressure around him increasing. He groaned with her, his member thick and waiting impatiently for release.

Everil held onto him as if letting go would make her disappear, pressing her fingernails against his skin as his muscles moved beneath her hands with each thrust. The friction of his rod ramming into her was all there was, the pleasure welling up, filling like a dam about to burst.

"Come with me, love..." he huffed through a strained grunt, and those hot words grazing her ear was all it took for that dam to blow open.

"Alistair…!" And she came crashing down, screaming his name for all to hear as he came with her, releasing a cry of his own. Convulsing beneath him, her arms held him tightly as waves of pleasure crashed onto her like the raging waves inside a storm. And Everil felt him throb within her as her sex drank each and every drop of his seed, her walls pulsing around him with greed.

With low, drawn-out groans, Alistair's movements became more sedated as they rode the ripples of their climax. He shuddered and sought her parted lips, giving her one last, slow, passionate kiss she blissfully returned. The kiss turned into tender pecks, each of them attempting to regain their ability to breathe. And they stayed like this for a moment that seemed to stretch on, their hearts pounding as they nuzzled and kissed each other as if they were long time lovers.

"I think… I'm very tired now… " she whispered softly, her eyes suddenly feeling heavy, her body numb to the world.

He chuckled as his lips brushed hers, their breaths intertwining. "Me too…"

With a slight grunt, Alistair pulled out of her and rolled heavily onto his back to lie next to her. Everil shifted tiredly to her side and rested her head on his shoulder, placing a hand over his heaving chest. A brief silence followed, and she almost fell asleep before he spoke.

"You know…" He let out a deep, shaky sigh. "I think I'm… the luckiest man in Thedas."

She smiled weakly, taking a deep breath herself before she gazed up at him through weary eyes. "Even with... the Blight… and all the monsters, and the near-death experiences?"

"Are you kidding...?" He gently stroked her hair, amber eyes staring into azure pools, "If there's anything I'm thankful for in all this mess... it's meeting you."

"I feel the same way..." Everil nuzzled his neck, closing her eyes with a dreamy sigh as he continued to absently brush her hair with long fingers.

Ever since she lost her family, she hadn't been able to feel truly happy, their deaths constantly looming over her. But now, she felt as if she could conquer anything. Like she could genuinely laugh again. The pain was ebbing away, her soul coming back together piece by piece. All thanks to him.

Wanting to be nearer, she moved to cuddle closer, pressing her body to his. The slight shift caused a drop of his seed to slide out of her, trickling down the back of her thigh as her full womb tingled with the remaining echoes of their lovemaking.

The possibility of falling pregnant after their nights together suddenly crossed her mind. And yet despite how young their relationship and how uncertain their future, Everil found that she didn't mind the idea in the least. Her racing heart swelled at the thought, and she couldn't help but smile. For she would proudly have his child along with the Cousland bloodline—regardless of the royal blood he begrudgingly carried. They could live on as peasants after this was over for all she cared. All she wanted was to be with him. Come what may.