A/N: Hello all! I just wanted to take a quick moment to thank all of you who have liked, followed, and commented on this story. I hope you continue to enjoy!
Completely soaked to the bone, Hal stood shivering in the small space behind the front counter. Apparently, the shopkeeper — Morgan, he informed her — lived above the store with his wife, who was upstairs resting off a bout of illness from before.
"It's not much, but lay your husband down here," Morgan instructed her, stepping back from the makeshift cot he'd arranged in the office space. There was a small bookshelf on one wall and the desk that had occupied the other side had been pulled out to make room. Hal hesitated, her throat tight, knowing she could not maintain the ruse much longer. He would find out eventually, and his kindness made her loathed to deceive him. And when he realized she was crying, he mistook her emotions and said, "Now, now, the sooner we get him patched up, the better off he'll be. I don't think his injuries are life-threatening. It's all right."
Hal studied the man carefully, sniffling as Murtagh hung off her limply. His brown eyes were kind, nervous with Hal's uncertainty. Slowly she moved towards the cot and he smiled with relief; Hal felt wretched. He helped her lay Murtagh down, unblinking when his hood fell back. Eyes closed, face devoid of color, soaked, and bearded, Murtagh, admittedly, still did not look too much like his poster. And yet Hal kept waiting for Morgan to say something. To recognize perhaps the most notorious man in Alagaësia.
Instead, the man stepped out of the room and returned with medical supplies none the wiser, and as he stepped back so that Hal could work, she hesitantly felt herself breathe a bit easier so that she could focus. She untucked and unbuttoned Murtagh's shirt to give herself better access to his injury and see the extent of the damage. He was still bleeding, slowly but steadily, which wasn't great, but at least the initial stream had lessened some. Hal quietly observed the ointments Morgan had provided her, reading the labels carefully before uncorking them. The cut was deep, but thin. If his bleeding was slowing, Hal thought it safe to assume no major arteries or organs had been nicked. But she wished Mennes were here to confirm this for her. Murtagh may have been healed from the horrid injuries caused by the Nïdhwal attack, but Hal could not have done that without Mennes guiding her hands. She was hopeless without him, and she felt her chest begin to seize once more with panic.
What if she made this worse?
What if she made a mistake?
What if she couldn't save him?
What if?
What if?
What if?
Fingers stroked her cheeks, wet from the rain and her tears. She looked up to find Murtagh gazing at her, smiling despite the obvious pain he was in. Hal felt even worse, wishing she hadn't been so easily taken-in by a dessert. She should've paid more attention to their surroundings. Murtagh had been right to worry about her going into the city. Her obvious foreignness made them targets, and her inability to keep an eye out on Murtagh while she was fighting led to such an injury. He would've been better off going in on his own like he had suggested. None of this would have happened otherwise.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault —"
"No —"
"Yes, it is. I feel like such an idiot. If I hadn't been here —"
"Then they would have found someone less capable of defending themselves to take," Murtagh grunted, trying to sit up.
"But you got hurt because of me." Hal promptly but gently eased him back down on the bed. "You never would have made such an asinine mistake."
"Just because you have not seen my failures in a fight, does not mean I don't have any, Halen. Trust me, I've made plenty of asinine mistakes." Her head dropped, finding no comfort. Murtagh took her hand in his, and he smiled. "But you were astounding back there, iet dunei. I could get used to being rescued by you."
She snorted, hating that she was trying to fight off a smile at his words. "Then you are a fool who does not realize he's been stabbed."
But her words reminded her that she needed to finish tending to him. She worked quietly, Murtagh's eyes on her all the while, making her face burn hotter and hotter with each passing moment, try as she might to ignore his gaze and focus. He barely flinched as she stitched his wound closed, the bleeding having finally stopped, as she applied the ointments and gauze to his side.
"You are a fearsome thing to behold," Murtagh said breathlessly, not taking his eyes off her. Hal looked up at him. "And you are daft when you are hurt and drugged," she rebutted.
He frowned, his gaze becoming serious as Hal moved to wash the blood off her hands in the basin of warm water Morgan had provided. As she dried them off, Murtagh said, "It pains me that you dismiss yourself so easily."
She sat back down by his side, cleaning the blood off his skin with a spare rag. "I'm not dismissing myself. I haven't earned your praise. I escalated the situation, I didn't take in my surroundings accordingly, I should've drawn my own weapon sooner…and I nearly ruined everything as a result."
"Halen —"
"Don't try to make me feel better," she whispered, her voice quivering with emotion, shame in her eyes. Refusing to look at him, she added, "I could have killed them."
"Halen —"
"Yes, I could have, and we both know it. They hurt you — they could have killed you — and I wanted them to suffer for it. That's how quickly I can lose control. That's how easily I could turn. And it frightens me, Murtagh. If anything were to happen to you or Thorn…what will I become? I don't want to be this…thing. And yet, what good is being this strong if I still cannot protect the man I love, or anyone else for that matter?"
She began to rise off the bed to finish cleaning up when Murtagh grabbed her wrist with more strength than any man this deep into a drug-induced state had any right to have. Hal turned to look at him, expectant. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he slowly eased her down into his arms, and Hal willingly fell into them. They were both soaked and shivering, but she found solace in his embrace, laying her head on his arm, careful to avoid pressing against his side.
Murtagh pushed her wet hair from her face and Hal begrudgingly looked up at him, knowing he would not let the conversation cease until he has said his peace. He was obviously exhausted, his eyes bloodshot. But his voice was steady when he spoke again. "I probably don't have to tell you how terrified I am at the thought of something happening to you. And Halen, I have come far too close to losing you more times than I wish to think about. When I think about how helpless I felt in each of those instances, I feel like I can't breathe properly. Losing you is not a risk I'm willing to take."
He drew closer and they were breadths apart now. Hal studied him carefully, wishing she could ease the stress in his brow and anguish in his eyes.
"The rage and fear I felt today," Murtagh continued, "at the thought of them taking you, would drive me to places I am trying to put behind me, for and because of you. But I would sooner Thorn have come into the city and burn it to the ground before I let that happen. And he was very close to making that a reality."
There was no room for argument in his tone, which was similar to the one he had used to threaten the slavers. "I do not mean to cause you ongoing worry," she whispered. "I do not mean to be so reckless with my life."
"I know you don't, Hal. And you are always acting in the interest of others, myself included, that it's hard to be properly angry at you."
"All this to say that I need to learn to control my emotions in a fight," Hal muttered. "At this rate, I will go ballistic if you get so much as a papercut."
Murtagh grinned, his cheeks flushed pink. "You are adorable when you care, little kitten." Hal rolled her eyes. After a slight pause, he said, "It will take time. Do not discredit yourself for learning in a year what most soldiers and fighters train lifetimes for. Your education has been escalated, so allow yourself to make mistakes. And know that I will always be there for you should you waver."
"I know." Hal leaned forward and pressed her lips to his brow. "I know. Now get some rest. I can tell you are tired."
Murtagh nuzzled his face in her neck affectionately, one arm moving to encircle her waist, gripping her firmly and holding her to him. Hal was utterly content to stay by his side, and it was not long before they both fell asleep.
…
It was the smell of roasted potatoes and onions that pulled Hal from sleep, and the room spun so drastically that she clutched her head and clenched the side of the bed, fearful she might fall to the floor in a dramatic heap.
"Easy now," a kind voice said. Hal felt a gentle touch on her arm and turned her head. The blurred shape of a woman entered her vision, and Hal blinked several times before features began to sharpen. Wide, brown eyes, thick lashes, brown hair, pale skin, and red cheeks. The woman looked rather sickly, but there was a softness and fastidiousness air about her and the way she studied Hal with concern.
"Morgan told me what happened. You might still be a little groggy from the drugs. Just take your time."
Hal gave a slow nod, sure that if she made any sudden movements, the room would spin again. "How long?" she asked, unsticking her tongue from the roof of her dry mouth.
"This is the evening of the second day."
Hal blanched with disbelief. "I'm so sorry we've intruded on your space all this time —"
"No, do not apologize. I'm just glad you both are all right. Your husband insisted that we let you rest, and I did not have the heart to wake you sooner than necessary after such an awful ordeal."
Hal registered the woman's comment and turned in the cot, realizing she has the entire space to herself.
"He went to bathe and change not too long ago," the woman stated, reading Hal's concerned look accordingly. "I'm sure he'll be down any moment. Are you hungry at all? I've finished preparing some stew if you are."
"You are too kind," Hal told her, her stomach grumbling as she concentrated on the savory smells once more. "May I ask your name?"
"Isabella. And Tornac says your name is Halen."
It took Hal several moments to process why Isabella called Murtagh by his old trainer's name. And then, of course, she remembered that he can't exactly use his name, and Hal stumbled to respond before her delayed reaction became cause for alarm. "Yes, yes, you can call me Hal."
"Well, I must say, Hal, your husband is absolutely lovely. I've enjoyed talking with him."
"How long has he been awake?"
"He came to early this morning. He and Morgan were having a very serious conversation about what happened to you two. I hate that your first foray into Teirm included slavers. This city has overcome much since declaring its independence, and it really is working to make this a powerful hub. Unfortunately, there just aren't enough resources these days to investigate the issue seriously. If it is not costing the city money, I'm afraid that it's less of a priority for them."
"That's awful."
"It is. But I'm just glad you and Tornac are all right." Isabella's smile was sweet, almost child-like in its innocence and youthfulness. "Tell me," she continued, her voice dropping with the hope of conversation and gossip, "how long have you and Tornac been wedded? Morgan mentioned it in passing."
Hal blanched in surprise, her face suddenly hot. "Oh, not long, I admit. Just a few days," she added, using Murtagh's words from before.
"Newlyweds," Isabella crooned, her face turning pink as though in wonder. "How romantic! I miss such times."
"How long have you and Morgan been married?" Hal asked, trying to be polite while keeping the focus off of her. She felt like a fraud, having a conversation on marriage as a non-married woman. And not knowing what Murtagh may have revealed since waking, she didn't want to say the wrong thing and accidently give themselves away.
"Goodness…I think going on thirteen years this winter," she said thoughtfully.
"That's wonderful!"
But Isabella's smile became strained and Hal faltered. "I suppose it is. Although…things have been hard, as of late. I assume Morgan told you before I was upstairs recovering?"
Hal nodded. "Aye, that he did."
"Well, I am prone to illness, more than most. Winters are especially hard. Morgan, bless him, still wanted to marry me despite this. My parents were sure no man would ever want for a wife who would have to be tended to rather than the other way around."
"I'm so sorry you were made to feel that way."
"My Morgan never faltered in his care for me. He took over this shop from his grandfather, helped increase its business so that he could make more money to support me and pay for my various herbs and treatments. He is hardworking and devoted. I am very fortunate."
Hal gave her a kind smile, easily reading between the lines. "It is okay to miss him when he's away, even if he's gone so that he can support you. There's no shame in wanting to be close to the one you love. I feel the same way about Tornac." Isabella blushed and she looked so young and sweet. "Where is Morgan anyway?"
As if hearing her question, the shop door burst open, Morgan cursing loudly as he locked the front back up and joined them in the back, soaked to the bone. He started at the sight of his wife. "Heavens, Iz, what are you doing out of bed?!"
"I wanted to greet our guest," she said, smiling at Hal.
"Ah-ha, you're awake then, are ya?!" Morgan exclaimed, beaming at the sight of Hal sitting up and alert. "And you look no worse for wear, might I add. How do you feel?"
"Very well. I can't thank you both enough for the kindness you have shown us. I don't know what we would have done. We had nowhere else to go."
"Think nothing of it," Isabella told her, leaning forward to take Hal's hand and squeezing it. And the small gesture was so great in its impact that Hal felt her throat tighten. How fortunate was she to find strangers always willing to take her in in a time of need? She blinked back her thoughts of Denu and forced herself to smile.
"And you," Morgan continues, rounding on his wife, "shouldn't be up." His voice and eyes softened at her smile.
"I'm fine, Morgan. Honest. But we should leave our guest to eat in peace," Isabella added, smiling apologetically at Hal.
As if hearing that food was available, Murtagh appeared in the doorway, looking well-rested and clean in a fresh tunic that he had purchased from Morgan. His beard was scrubbed clean, his overgrown locks tied back with a piece of twine. Hal had not given any thought to trimming his ends. Not since they had left Illium. He must've felt strong enough, because he was using magic to distort his features once again.
When he saw that she was awake, his demeanor and posture shifted. He leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, eyes softening with happiness and relief. Hal blushed. But the sight of him put her back at ease as well.
"Morgan, darling, can you help me with something upstairs?" Isabella said suddenly.
"What is it?"
"Just come with me. Quickly now." As Isabella gathered her husband, she turned to Hal and said, "And please feel free to wash after you eat. Tornac, are you comfortable showing her how the tub works?"
"I am, thank you, Isabella."
Isabella's cheeks were flushed as she and Morgan turned away, and Murtagh stepped into the room so that they could close the door on their way out. Hal listened to the sounds of their footsteps on creaky stairs, Morgan's low, inquisitive voice causing Isabella to giggle. She grinned at the sound, her gaze catching Murtagh's as he moves towards her.
"How are you feeling, my darling?" Murtagh asked, sitting down beside her.
While she knows that he's just mimicking Isabella's endearment for Morgan, Hal feels her heart race at the affection still in Murtagh's voice. She turns away from him, thoughtful for a moment before declaring, "I'll allow it."
He raised a curious brow. "Allow what?"
"'My darling,'" she said. "You are allowed to use it as a term of endearment if you so wish."
"So that brings my total to…?"
"Three. Iet dunei, my darling, and Goddess Divine."
"I thought that last one was a joke."
"I would not joke about something so important. Although," she tapped her chin thoughtfully, "I am realizing I have no terms of affection for you."
But Murtagh just shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her shoulder. "Oh, but you do."
"I do? And what is that, rider?"
He just grinned at her, and Hal stared at him in confusion before she realized what he meant. "'Rider'? Truly?"
"I know you first began to use it when you felt like being impersonal, but I like how the inflection changes as your mood does, as our relationship does. In it, I can hear when you are happy or teasing. It feels like something that is unequivocally mine. I do not need anything else."
Hal cheeks were hot at the deep sentiment he expressed as he spoke. "Then consider it yours."
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers lightly. "You did not answer my question, though. How are you feeling?"
"Better," Hal admitted with a firm nod. "Whatever drugs they put in my system knocked me out harder than I anticipated."
"I'm sure the dosage is meant for large animals, like horses and cows. Considering how long we slept, I'm sure it's effective in separating women from their families and transporting them somewhere they won't know the location of."
Hal shuddered in misery at the though. "That's vile."
Murtagh pulled her into his embrace, his hands running over her arms. "I know," he said.
"Is there nothing we can do? Can we not report them or something?"
"I already asked Morgan. He said he has reported it at least a dozen times, but either no one seems to know what is going on or no one cares."
"How could they care so little for the well-being of their own people?"
"They may just be overwhelmed. I'm sure the army has been stretched thin these last few years, quelling uprisings, overseeing the rebuild of cities that were ruined in the war, helping transport goods and supplies. Nasuada laid claim to quite a mess. It is one thing to lead a kingdom, it's another thing to have to help it rebuild."
Hal had never given that much consideration before. To be honest, she would not wish to rule either way. It would be awfully daunting to have to live a life so heavily scrutinized and nitpicked. And there would be no way to satisfy all of the demands. Few would always feel left out. Hal had seen enough politics in her own small village. And dealing with one Tengene was tiresome enough. Hal couldn't imagine if there were entire groups and communities and cities of that man, all vying for some impossible thing Hal could not give.
"I certainly do not envy Nasuada," Hal said in a clipped tone, reaching for a bowl, wanting to eat before it got too cold.
"Nor do I," Murtagh agreed, reaching for the other.
Hal took a few careful bites of food, aware of how long it had been since her last meal. "When will we leave?"
"I was thinking tomorrow, if you feel up for it. Thorn has been anxious, especially because of the attack. He is eager for us to return. And Morgan informed me that the slavers were picked up and are being questioned by soldiers. Best to leave now before your description is all over the city."
Hal began to nod, but something stopped her. She swallowed the bit of stew in her mouth, licking her lips clean of residue before speaking. "Are you sure you still want to do this? I feel like this attack might be a sign that perhaps I was wrong to bring us here. I would not be angry if you had a change of heart."
"No, you wouldn't. Because you are too good to me, iet dunei. But I won't let myself be ruled by fate any longer, nor fear. I choose to forge my own path towards my own goals. Besides, what kind of man would I be if I let us quit now? I would hardly be fit to call myself a dragon rider, let alone someone worthy of standing by your side."
"This is not about me."
"I will not let what we have lost be in vain," he said, his voice heavy. And even though he did not say anything more specific on the matter, Hal felt her throat tighten painfully. She looked away from him. "This may be bigger than us in the grand scheme of things. But make no mistake, Halen: I fight for you. For us. And for our people."
To hear those words lifted her burden a bit, and she felt less ashamed as she blinked a few tears loose. "Then we leave tomorrow," she told him, her voice firm with conviction.
Murtagh nodded his agreement. "Tomorrow."
…
They were both awake before the crack of dawn, moving about the room with careful quietness so as not to wake their hosts. They cleaned their space and left it neater than when they had arrived, and, after setting aside what they would need to purchase the horses and some food, Murtagh set what remained of their coins on the cot while Hal penned a note of gratitude and future well-wishes.
The city was peaceful in its quiet, and Murtagh felt at ease as Hal curled under his arm, her own wrapped around his waist. They bought their horses, which Hal inspected so thoroughly that the owner began to grow nervous and uncertain even of himself as she questioned him. Murtagh fought to hide a smile.
The soldiers they passed manning the gate didn't even look twice at them. And when they were far enough away, both Murtagh and Hal felt a weight being lifted, one that doubled when they finally spotted Thorn.
It seems you two have a knack for finding trouble, Thorn berated. Murtagh's horse, an ivory stallion named Levi, whined nervously at the sight of the red dragon, and Murtagh quickly touched his mind to ease his worries. Hal's mare, with a coat so dark and black that it was only fitting that she was named Shadow, barely hesitated, but continued forward at Hal's calm and trained insistence.
Relieved to release the magic altering his features, Murtagh teased, "It is no fun when it's too easy." And both Hal and Thorn rolled their eyes.
"I could do with a lot less fun, if you ask me," Hal muttered.
Murtagh kissed her temple. "Thankfully, no one did."
He ducked away from her swinging fist with obvious merriment, and Hal's lips twitched as she shook her head. "You are a complete and utter ass, rider."
Feeling bold, he returned to her side and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. He could hear how her breath caught in surprise, then evened out as she relaxed into him. When she pulled away, her gaze boring into his, he felt a knot in his chest loosen. "I love you," he told her, still in awe and filled with nerves at the words, at speaking them out loud for another to hear.
And her smile. That beautiful, shy, radiant smile. He leaned forward and kissed her again, their mouths eager, a sense of shock finally wearing off from the last few days now that they were free of the city. As they kept moving, pushing forward with this plan, he knew their time together would be chipped away. He just wanted a few minutes to relish in her presence.
"I love you, too," she said quickly, breathless between kisses before he captured her lips again. When they did finally break apart, they didn't immediately step away. Hal was clinging to him, her arms wrapped around his torso as she laid her cheek on his chest. Murtagh buried his face in her neck. He would fight for this. Die for this. But more than that, he wanted to live for this.
"Are you worried?" he asked her.
She was quiet for a few seconds, taking his hand and pressing her lips to his open palm, then she closed his hand and set a loving kiss on each knuckle. When she finally looked back up at him, there was an assuredness in her eyes, strong and sharp. Comforting in its passion. "If I am, it is because there are many unknowns in our path. We're taking a great leap of faith, and where we land depends entirely on how others receive us. I do not like feeling such a loss of control, but I know we do not have any other choice." She sighed, then gave him a tender smile. "But I will boldly face those fears knowing you and Thorn are by my side."
He kissed the top of her head, lingering just long enough in the hopes that some of her strength and courage would take root in him as well. "Then let's be off, before we start to lose any daylight."
They fastened their bags to their saddles, arming themselves properly once more and wrapped their cloaks around their shoulders. As Murtagh climbed onto his horse, he looked over and saw Hal staring somberly at hers.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, concerned.
Even though he couldn't see it, he could imagine the flush in her cheeks based on the way she flinched and fought to avoid his gaze. "No, nothing serious. It's just…"
When her silence deepened, Murtagh climbed back down and approached her, standing on the other side of Shadow, his gaze boring into her so intently, as if hoping to read her mind. But he couldn't, so he waited patiently until she said, "I've…I've never ridden another horse besides Nani. Is it stupid, that I feel like I am betraying her?"
Murtagh's shoulders deflated. He should've known. And of course, Nani was not just any horse. Not to Hal. The horse had been a gift from Denu. Hal had raised her, trained her, and the horse was steadfastly loyal that even she did not like the few times she had to be ridden by another. If Hal was out on some adventure, Nani was by her side. Hal had built trust and comradery with the mare through nothing but sheer grit and respect for the creature. He knew such a bond could not be replaced.
"No," he assured her, his hand covering hers, gripping it tightly. "It is not stupid, nor should you let yourself believe it is. I swear I've never seen a more dangerous duo than you and that horse. And I have a dragon."
Hal's smile was unintentional, which made it all the more breathtaking to behold for the brief instance he observed it. But it fell quickly, her expression becoming troubled once more. "I wish she could have come with us. I miss her."
"And I know she is probably bucking off some poor sap as we speak because they are not you. Truthfully, I hope it's Cado." Hal laughed at that, a few tears coming loose. He couldn't even imagine how homesick she must feel. How foreign and strange this all was. And her first visit to a major city had not exactly gone off without a hitch either. He wished there was even a small comfort he could provide her. Instead, he lifted her hand and kissed her palm. "How about you get to know Shadow as we ride. Touch her mind, let her get to know you as well. I know it's not quite the same as years of experience together, but perhaps you'll both feel more comfortable with each other afterwards."
Hal thought quietly for a moment, then began to nod. "Yes, I think I'll try that. Thank you."
He kissed her hand once more and returned to his own horse, who watched him with solemn, brown eyes. As he climbed up, he took one last look at Hal, who was looking intently at Shadow, rubbing the mare's nose with a tender hand. The horse nodded its head fervently, and Hal smiled, grateful, before climbing up.
Something in his throat caught, and his face burned as he studied her. He felt a wave of emotion that he could not easily identify with words.
"All right, I'm ready," Hal declared, looking up. If she noticed his flushed expression, she didn't comment. Not trusting himself to speak, Murtagh nodded and directed his horse towards her. Hal watched him quietly as he approached, angling himself so that he could face her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Hal sighed at his touch, melting into him as she always did. The attempted kidnapping had shaken him. Shaken her. And he just needed the satisfaction of holding her, kissing her, one last time before they took off.
He forced them apart, feeling his temptations and desire struggle for dominance. And judging by the way Hal was studying him, she could tell there was something warring in his mind. But he did not have the heart to tell her the truth: that he could not go through with this plan. Teirm had snapped sense into him. And he could not risk Hal's safety.
"Why do you watch me like I will disappear?" she asked him. She pulled off a glove and laid her palm on his cheek. "You know I am not going anywhere."
"I know," he told her, having never doubted it. Because it was never Hal he doubted, but himself. Murtagh studied her for a few more moments, taking it all in before finally turning away. He knew then, without a doubt in his mind, what he had to do. He just hoped, that when all was said and done, Hal would find it in her heart to forgive him.