Hal was sure she had walked far enough because her body felt sufficiently numb from the evening cold. In her time away, she had missed the pleasure of spring and summer in Du Weldenvarden, and they were now into fall. But despite the chill in the wind during the early mornings and evenings, it always warmed up enough during the day. Something the Sani enjoyed immensely as they grew more comfortable languishing about outside.

She didn't know where she was, but was confident she was alone. And the moment she stopped moving, she dropped to her knees and buried her eyes behind her fists as she burst into tears. She only cried when she was by herself. And since she spent so much of her time with the Sani, these moments were few and far between.

She sobbed loud and hard, letting it rub her throat raw, crying until she felt ill and sore. She felt an overwhelming and crushing sense of obligation. She knew she could not do this alone. Dealing with the Sani's emotions on top of her own was backbreaking. Not to mention the sight of Thea attacking Hal, knowing she had sent the Ra'zac. Trying to explain the truth without tarnishing Thea's reputation was harder than Hal had anticipated. Many felt confused and betrayed. Hal wished she could do more for them. She had to admit that part of her frustration now was at herself. Despite knowing every choice she had made was right, it all left her feeling raw.

She knew she ought to be embarrassed, but it was far too late for that. It didn't change how she felt. She was not cut out for responsibility like this. The feeling of being needed was one thing. This was deeper than that. The Sani were not children who needed her to tell them when to stop running or fighting. They were people she had only gotten to know the last few months, with real trauma, fears, and ailments. She was not equipped for such responsibility.

She felt a drop hit the top of her head and looked up at the overcast sky. Closing her eyes, Hal focused her breathing for as long as it took for the rain to come down. She missed the warm rains of Illium. Missed how gentle they could be. The rains here felt sharp and stung her cheeks. But she continued to hold her head up towards the skies, letting the drops mingle with her tears. Letting it wash away, for another day, the paralyzing fears that made sleep impossible. The guilt that tormented her soul. Every weakness she dared not show in front of the Sani, she released from her soul now. It wouldn't be enough. But it would get her through a few more hours. That was all she needed to do. Get through the next few hours. Then the following hours. And those after. Never ending, if she looked at the time to closely. But she didn't.

Just get up, she told herself. This was always the hardest part. After isolating herself, when she could finally catch her breath and stop moving, her exhaustion would come to claim her. The urge to be still for a little while longer would tempt her every time she sat down. But she refused. There was too much to do.

Her entire body ached. She knew she was pushing herself. But if she slowed down for even a moment…

Hal opened her eyes at the unexpected touch on her shoulders, unsure as to how she had managed to let anyone sneak up on her. She looked up just as Baldor crouched down, having placed his cloak over her head. A worthless gesture, seeing as how she was already soaked. But one that lessened some of the tension in her body as she fingered the frayed hems.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked.

"You're not the only one who knows how to track, he teased gently. "Although admittedly it took a little longer once it started raining."

She nodded her head, her eyes growing heavy despite the chill beginning to seep into her body. "I just needed a few moments to myself."

"I know. That's why I didn't immediately follow after you. But it's growing late and it looks like it will be raining for some time. It's best we had back now so you can get cleaned up before you get sick. Not to mention the Sani are worried about you."

Not the news she wanted to hear. Above all else, she didn't want to give the Sani another thing to worry about. But it was all harder than she thought. And with Thea now gone, Hal felt aimless. She could never go back to her life as it was. She had seen and done too much. Yet she wanted nothing more than to wake up on Illium and feel a sense of calm. A sense of peace. When was the last time she had truly felt so rested?

"Nothing broken can be repaired overnight, Miss Halen," Baldor said, his hands gripping her by her elbow as he carefully hauled her to her feet. She allowed him to pull her, knowing she did not have the strength in that moment to get up on her own. Her knees felt like those of someone much older. "But," he continued, "that doesn't mean it cannot be fixed either. It will take patience and time. You have given your people a chance to reclaim what was stolen from them. Don't undermine their efforts by not taking care of yourself. They will feel guilty and responsible for your wellbeing if so, and it will undo all of their efforts. And yours."

She knew this, yet her heart and mind responded as if this was the first time she had even considered such a thing. However, she knew it was something she needed to hear often. She knew how hard such adjustments could be. How painful. Moving on, truly moving on, required looking at a past that made living feel almost unbearable. It felt easier to stay trapped in whatever secure bubble you had created for yourself than risk stepping out of it. Because to get to the light, you had to crawl through the darkness. She didn't want that for the Sani. They had suffered enough. Endured enough.

And so had she.

She sighed sharply, cutting Baldor a faux-stern look. "How dare you speak such sense when I am obviously trying to brood."

"How about brooding in a nice, warm bath then?"

She nodded. That did indeed sound nice. Even if she was loathed to go back just yet, she also knew that Baldor would sit outside with her regardless of the weather. She would not let him do such a thing, and she had a feeling he knew this as well. Manipulative bastard. As if having heard her, Baldor glanced her way and grinned. Hal could not help but smile.

"I'm sorry I made you chase after me." Hal stared down at the ground as she walked, feeling rather embarrassed. She pulled his cloak tighter around her shoulders, trying to brace herself against the wind. "It seems like I'm always causing you and Albriech problems."

It took her a moment to realize he had suddenly stopped walking, his footsteps falling silent. She turned and looked back only to find his eyes filled with something she had not quite expected. Guilt. And perhaps regret. She felt her throat grow tight in fear that perhaps things were worse than she had imagined.

"I'm ashamed to admit it," he began slowly, his eyes focused anywhere but on her, "but when we first agreed to serve as your guard, I was largely doing it out of pity. I felt bad, for how you were being treated and it just seemed like the right thing to do. Not to mention that when Roran asked Albriech and I, it felt wrong to tell him no. So, I agreed, thinking I would simply be doing him a favor. I figured it would last a few months at most. And when you seemed hesitant about the idea, it gave me reason to hope that this wouldn't become a long-term commitment."

Hal's breathing was stretched thin, labored with her unyielding emotions, but repressed as she tried to hold her breath and remain calm. She didn't say anything. Couldn't look at him. But Baldor continued talking anyway.

"At first, it was about as plain as I expected to be. Every so often her majesty would ask for updates and reports."

Now Hal looked up, feeling like she had been slapped. She didn't fully know if this counted as a betrayal, seeing as how they weren't very close at the time. Yet the sting was visceral all the same. "You and Albriech were spying on us?"

"Yes."

He didn't deny it, but he also didn't appear happy or satisfied. Blinking quickly, Hal asked, "Why are you telling me this now?"

Baldor finally met her gaze, his soft, brown eyes strong enough to almost ease the heartache Hal felt with his confession. He was not telling her these things to be cruel, but she could not, for the life of her, fathom what point he was trying to get across.

"Because when I look at you now, I'm ashamed of what I did back then. Ashamed of how I judged you and Murtagh, and ashamed of how I allowed my position to be used against you when my entire purpose was to protect you from all enemies and threats. Especially now that I know you. I'm sorry, Miss Halen."

She was stunned and very much confused. After everything that had happened since, she didn't really have the energy to be angry with him. Not after everything he had done for her, regardless of his feelings on the matter.

When she finally felt calm enough because she realized he wasn't confessing that he hated her or something, Hal nodded her head resolutely. "Thank you for telling me. Regardless of what your intentions were…I'm glad you were by my side. I'm proud to call you my friend."

He smiled at that, taking a step closer to her, his expression softening. "Thank you. That makes me happy to hear. Sometimes, we can get so wrapped up in our regrets, it can be difficult to appreciate the fact that we've grown from them. Acknowledging mistakes and failures, especially when they involve someone you care about, is never easy. I care about you deeply, Miss Halen. As does my brother. We will continue to stand by your side, as long as you will have us. We will continue to earn your trust and your respect and your friendship, because they are all important to us."

"Baldor…"

He placed a comforting hand on the top of her head. "It pains me to see you hurting like this. It pains everyone else who cares about you too. We all have regrets. We will continue to have them. It is instrumental when you are truly living life as one should. But it's important to remember to also cherish the life that blooms from those mistakes. I am not proud of how I was in the past, but I am proud now to be your friend. You may not see it yet, but what you did for the Sani is something you should never regret, despite the hardships and heartaches that came with it. Yes, there are difficulties, there is no denying that. But there is also such life. Your people laugh, Miss Halen. Every day, they smile more easily than they did before. You gave them that chance. You gave them that hope. So please, forgive yourself as easily as you just forgave me."

Baldor leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Come on, let's get out of this dreadful weather."

It took a few moments for Hal's feet to start moving again. She was rather stunned by Baldor's rather brotherly display of affection, and all the sincerity that came with it. Even though she knew there would still be trials to come, in that moment, she was simply grateful. Grateful that despite her hardships, she still found herself surrounded by the most incredible and compassionate people.

As they walked back, she felt guilty for hoarding his cloak and leaving him exposed to the elements. She did not have to say her spell aloud. It barely took any energy to cast it. Yet, as they walked, the rain seemed to fall only around them, parting as they made their way through the trees. Baldor looked over at her and grinned. "You're getting better each day, Miss Halen."

She smiled, pleased by his compliment. "It's easier now." As easy as breathing or blinking. An innate understanding of her magic now existed within her. The ever-constant flow of the life around her and how it moved worked in tandem with her abilities. The gift the Menoa Tree had imparted on Hal after touching her mind had now made sense.

She still couldn't make sense, however, of the blank memory in her mind. Fragments of a conversation, a promise made. But whenever Hal put too much effort into remembering, she was rewarded with a sharp headache. A warning to stop probing.

As they got closer into the city, Hal felt a subtle tug on her mind that was almost easily missed. She halted mid-step, more curious than alarmed. However, it soon passed and she continued on without giving it much thought until she realized that the closer they got to Ellesméra, the stronger the touch became. It was only moments before he spoke through their bond did Hal belatedly realized what she was feeling.

Hello, young one.

This time, Hal really did come to a complete halt. Baldor turned back, concerned, before seeming to realize by her expression what was happening. He just smiled.

She reached out to the bond in her mind, afraid to hope. Thorn?

Quiet, but only for a moment. Then: I have missed you, Hal.

Tears steadily began to fall down her cheeks, aware that his ability to contact her only meant one thing. Where are you?

Don't move. We are coming to you.

She ignored his response completely. She only managed a few steps before she broke out into an eager run, following the path set by her bond to Thorn. She quickly left Baldor behind, cutting off her magic so that they both were exposed to the elements once more. She was so desperate that she hardly paid attention to her surroundings, tripping and nearly falling on her face several times on the slick ground.

When she was back in the city proper, a few called out to her, but she ignored them all. Her breathing was hoarse, more from her own frantic enthusiasm than the pace of her strides. She slid to a stop, her chest heaving and her hands shaking.

There he was.

It looked like they had just landed, just as soaked as Hal was. She knew they couldn't have flown in, so clearly Thorn had meant it when he had said they were coming to her. However, upon realizing she was already on the move, they decided to just meet her in the middle instead.

When Murtagh met Hal's gaze, something in her world shifted. Like it was suddenly righting itself, falling back into balance. His expression was just as disbelieving as hers. It felt strange to see him after all this time apart. She had expected…actually, she hadn't known what to expect. Perhaps that she would throw herself at him weeping. Instead, she just felt calm.

He quickly unhooked himself from the saddle and she began to walk towards him, neither looking away from the other. The longer his eyes bore into her, the more Hal felt her heart swell in her chest. When he landed, the soles of his boots sinking deep into fresh mud, she broke into a run and Murtagh opened his arms wide for her to fall into. As she collided into him, she felt a rush of emotion that she had been holding back for much too long. She did indeed burst into tears, although she found herself also laughing with relief. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but she couldn't catch her breath long enough to speak. He cradled the back of her head as she buried her face in his neck, breathing him in and letting it fill her lungs.

She was loathed to let him go, but she did eventually pull back, just so she could look at him properly. He was smiling so broadly, his eyes so full of light and warmth that, without thinking, she pulled his head down and kissed him. His grip tightened on her hips in response, and for just a few seconds, it was as if they were in their own world.

Calmed a bit by the kiss, Hal felt more clearheaded as she pulled away, her breathing much more even. Murtagh was grinning, clearly finding her reaction both funny and endearing. She blushed, unable to hide her smile as she laughed nervously, too happy to be mortified by her reaction.

"Halen."

His fingers graced the underside of her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his. At first, Hal assumed he meant to kiss her again. And the way he was looking at her burned so hot that she longed for it. However, she hesitated when he didn't lower his head. Instead, he just continued to look at her, his thumb brushing along her jaw.

He lowered his forehead to hers and Hal closed her eyes, letting the familiar gesture soothe her. They were both quiet, lost in their feelings of relief. There was so much she wanted to say. However, she knew that now wasn't the time or place. They could talk later. For now, all she wanted was to relish the feel of having him by her side once more, right where he belonged.

Thorn snaked his head around, capturing Hal's attention long enough for a warm embrace and a kiss on the top of his nose. Don't ever let me talk the two of you into leaving me again, Hal told him, his familiar presence in her mind soothing all its own.

He chuckled, but seemed to snuggle his nose in closer as she held on tight. You have my word.

Hal kept one hand on Thorn, her eyes dancing between the dragon and his rider with disbelief. "I don't understand. How are you here right now? We only just arrived a week ago ourselves."

"I scryed you," Murtagh explained. He shook his head. "I don't fully understand what happened. All I know is that one moment, Eragon and I were teaching, and the next moment I just knew that my magic had returned. I scryed you almost immediately and saw Arya with you. You were still up north but I assumed you were heading back to Du Weldenvarden. Thorn and I took off almost instantly."

Warmth blossomed in Hal's chest despite the fact that they were still standing in the chilling rain. "I missed you," she told him. It was all she could think to say. All she was capable of saying in that moment. It wasn't enough. Words, even actions, wouldn't be enough to convey the depths of which she had ached for him. His smile, his touch, his laugh. She raised her hand to his face, her fingers skimming his brow, his nose, his cheeks.

He stepped closer, when she traced over his lips, his eyes soft with knowing. "I'm here now, iet dunei," he told her gently. "And next time, I won't let you get rid of me so easily."

Grateful that the rain hid her tears, Hal forced a smile before letting her hand fall. "I'd have to be mad to send you away again."

He reached for her, letting his fingers intertwine with hers. "Come, let's get dry and warm before we fall ill."

Hal nodded as he tugged her back towards the direction she had come. Arya had allowed Hal to stay in the same lodgings she, Murtagh, and Thorn had occupied previously. As they walked, Hal let her head fall onto his shoulder, weariness striking her once again. Only this time, she allowed herself to relax a bit. Allowed herself to release the tension she had carried with her every day since they had parted. Because even after all this time, there was no denying that she would always feel safest, always feel balanced, with Murtagh and Thorn by her side.

…

Murtagh didn't remember anything after they had gotten cleaned up and changed for bed. From the moment his head had finally hit the pillow, Hal in his arms once again, to when he woke up next was completely empty. Like he had been drinking a little bit too much and blacked out. And judging by the way he felt like he had been knocked on his ass in a fight, he was beginning to question if he was hungover.

He heard a low whimper and turned his head. Hal was still asleep beside him, curled on her side and facing him. Her brows were slightly furrowed. He waited with bated breath, listening. It was long before Hal made a similar noise of distress once more, her expression becoming more pinched. Knowing by now that, even if it didn't become a full-blown nightmare, she wasn't having a restful sleep either, he reached out laid his fingers to her cheek.

She stirred immediately at his touch, and he gently stroked the warm skin, calling her name in a low voice to make sure he didn't startle her awake. She rolled onto her back and woke up almost immediately, looking confused for a moment before she caught him watching her carefully.

"Rider?" His heart gave a small flutter at the nickname, her voice rasp with exhaustion. "How long have I been asleep?

He shook his head. "Not sure. I don't even remember falling asleep myself."

Hal leaned forward, trying to run her fingers through her hair but they got caught in the knots that had formed after she had fallen asleep with wet hair. Giving a low sigh of frustration, she let her hands fall instead to her lap.

"Have you been sleeping well at all?" Murtagh asked, tilting his head slightly as he observed her in her heavy silence.

She shook her head. "I admit…I thought because you were back, I might actually get a decent night's sleep. Guess I was wrong."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She chewed on her bottom lip, looking everywhere but at him. He watched her fight back the tears, but a few still fell loose when she tried to blink them away. She cleared her throat when he reached for her, but it didn't escape his notice that she had stiffened under his touch. When he made to pull his hand away, Hal blurted, "Don't!"

He froze, unsure of what to do. Unsure of what she needed.

"I'm sorry —"

"Don't apologize, Hal."

"It's just…" She took a deep breath and wiped her cheeks. "I want to talk about it. I have to talk about. Because there are things you need to know. But when I tell you, I know you'll be upset and sad, and I don't want to do that to you."

Murtagh felt a stone of unease drop into his stomach. His mind raced with every worst-case scenario, but for some reason his mouth blurted the first question that came to mind.

"Is there…someone else?"

Hal straightened, her brows dipping as she processed his question. "What?"

He stared at her, panic-struck. Hal stared back, reading him and realizing he was serious. Then she suddenly burst out into laughter. Murtagh's expression fell into one of annoyance, because of course Hal found the question so ridiculous it would put her in hysterics.

When she finally began to quiet down, she got on her knees, hobbling towards him until she could slide her arms around his neck. Then she pulled herself down, pressing their lips together in a slow, deep kiss that robbed him of his breath.

When she pulled back, she was smiling, her face just a little bit brighter. "No, my wonderful, idiot of a husband, there is no one else."

He felt silly for thinking as much now. Especially as Hal lovingly brushed his hair back, her fingers skimming his forehead. His eyes drifted closed at her touch. "You caught me off guard, it was the first thing that came to mind."

"That I would've had an affair?"

"No. Well, I guess technically yes. I don't know, Hal, you just frightened me is all. I assumed the worst."

Her expression softened, but there was an underlying sadness in her tone as she said, "Is that really the worst thing you can think of?"

"Well, the first thing would've been your death, but unless ghosts have become solid, I figured it was a low risk."

That earned him a small chuckle. "A ghost, eh?"

"I would still have you as a ghost. In case you were wondering."

"And if I had wanted another man?"

"I'd get rid of him."

He said it completely serious, but Hal snorted and he felt his own lips pull into a smile.

"Well, it is nothing like that, although I do wonder where you get your ideas from. There will come a time soon when I will reveal all that weighs on my mind. Some things will not be easy to say, and others will not be easy to hear." He tensed at that, his brows beginning to bunch together in concern. But Hal reached up and smoothed the skin with her fingers. "But just know that through it all, the one constant I had was how much I missed you. How much your strength and love kept me going, knowing that I would see you again. And now you're here and I don't want to take that for granted."

"Of course, I understand, iet dunei. Whenever you're ready, I'll be here."

She nodded. "Thank you."

He brought his forehead down to hers, taking a deep breath. "I admit, I don't know if I should be more or less concerned though."

She chuckled. "You will be concerned regardless. That is inescapable. But all you need to know is that I'm okay. And with you by my side again, I am unbelievably happy."

He smiled, nodding his head. "In that case then, I am content. And Hal?"

"Yes?"

"I'm happier now too."

…

Over the next few days, Hal knew Murtagh was trying to distract her. Knew he was aware of the shadows in her mind, the heartache in her silence. Even if he did not yet know the specifics, he was always aware of her moods. He refused to let her lift a finger if he could get to any task or errand first, and remained upbeat and jovial, even if it only succeeded in lifting a small smile from her face.

On afternoon, Thorn suggested that the three of them take a small trip out of the city for a picnic. He had found an isolated mountain with an alcove big enough for them to sit comfortably, away from distractions and peacefully quiet. Murtagh was quick to agree, and Hal did not have the heart to deny them. Besides, their presence was perhaps the one thing that was keeping her sane.

The day was almost too perfect. Murtagh had packed them a basket, which included elven wine, gifted from Arya. When they departed for their destination on Thorn's back, the long-missed exhilaration of the air rushing around Hal's ears pulled a genuine smile out of her. All the while the dragon and his rider beguiled Hal with lighthearted stories and recounts of their time in the east with Eragon. She listened attentively, laughing at all the right moments and asking all the right questions. Not once did Murtagh ask her about whether she had anything pleasant to share from her time in the north, nor did Hal offer it. Instead, she was content merely to listen and he was more than happy to fill the space with mindless talk, a stark role-reversal that Hal wondered, more than once, if he had noticed.

Part of Hal wanted to tell them they did not need to try so hard. Wanted to tell them that their presence was more than enough to lift her spirits. She did not want to force conversation if there was no need to. However, after a few hours, her outlook on the matter changed. She noticed the glow in Murtagh's eyes as he spoke of his pupils, how excited he was to tell her of how well they had progressed in just the few months he had taught them. The light in his eyes captured her attention and heart. Slowly, the tension in her muscles began to relax, the smile on her face resting easily as she watched him.

It took him a few moments to notice, so lost in his anecdotes. He stumbled over his words, clearing his throat nervously. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get so carried away."

Her smile widened and she shook her head. "I don't mind. Truthfully, I can't remember the last time I heard you speak with such enthusiasm about something. It makes me happy, Murtagh. So very happy." She reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Do you want to continue teaching? It seems like you're really passionate about it. And I can say from first-hand experience how good you are."

She noticed how he didn't quite meet her gaze as he anxiously scratched the back of his head, buying himself time before responding. "I admit, Eragon did offer me a position, if I wanted it."

"Murtagh!" she exclaimed, her tone both thrilled and accusatory that he had withheld such information for so long. "That's wonderful!"

"But I turned him down," he added quickly, and Hal felt her smile drop a bit in confusion.

"What? Why?"

"Hal, it's nearly a two week's journey to Mount Arngor just from here. Further from Ilirea and further still from Ilium or the estate. Not to mention, I already have my duties to Nasuada to keep me busy. If I did both, I would hardly see you at all, and I don't want that."

"Well, what if distance wasn't a factor?"

His expression softened as he looked at her. "I enjoyed it more than I would have thought possible," he responded gently. "But not enough to sacrifice more time with you than allowed. I'll be content serving the crown and fulfilling my duties there."

Hal looked away, unsure as to why she felt so bothered by this response even though his reasoning was sound. No, she would not want him further or gone longer. She could barely stand the idea of what his fealty might require of him. She knew she would have to adjust her life to days, weeks, and possibly even months where Murtagh and Thorn were gone. She did not like it, but that's how it would be. The fealty had been a choice of necessity, this would be a choice Murtagh could make where Hal wasn't a factor for once. If Murtagh wanted more, she did not want to feel like the thing holding him back. She feared he might come to resent her otherwise.

"I've upset you."

She looked up, Murtagh's words bringing her back to the present. "Oh, no, you didn't. I was just…thinking."

"What about?"

She shrugged, unsure of how to put her thoughts into words. There was so much she wouldn't even know where to begin. The last thing Hal wanted to do was sully this evening that Murtagh had tried so hard to put together on such short notice. There would be time later to worry. Time later to figure out what to do about their future altogether. For now, Hal just wanted to try to remain in the present for as long as possible. But she was already putting off so much; the thought of tabling another conversation for them to have later just felt ridiculous.

"I want you to be able to do what makes you happy, Murtagh. I know your fealty is important to you and that you've gotten more out of it than you expected. But it was still a decision we made due to the circumstances. Teaching…it would be fully your choice. No strings attached, no politics involved — which you hate —"

"I do," he muttered in agreement.

Hal grinned but continued. "I just don't want you to think you need to worry about me in these decisions. I'm happy to be included, but if you were to tell me that it's something you want to do, I'd support you. No questions asked."

His gaze was distance, deep in thought. Hal watched him carefully, unsure if her words had had an impact.

"I'll think about it," he said at last, and Hal nodded in content. "I can't promise I'll change my mind. I enjoyed my time with Eragon and the riders, but I missed you, Hal. Not a day went by that I didn't think of you. A wrote a letter to you almost every day because I had to do something to make up for the fact that I couldn't speak with you —"

"You wrote me?" Her voice was soft, almost too afraid to ask in case she had misheard.

He nodded. "I have them in a separate bag that I brought with me since I couldn't send them by messenger. I can give them to you when we get back."

"I can read them?"

"Of course you can. I didn't give myself hand cramps writing them for nothing. They are yours. Although I probably told you half of what was in them already."

She shook her head. "I don't mind. I want to read them."

He kissed the top of her head. "All right then, iet dunei."

However, once they returned and Murtagh had dumped the letters on the dining table — all carefully folded and sealed with wax — Hal's eagerness slowly gave way to shame. She approached the stack with a tight chest.

"All of this is for me?"

He nodded. "Although I should've dated them. There's no telling what order they're in now."

Hardly something Hal was worried about. However, the physical proof of how much he thought of her only seemed to emphasize that Hal had nothing. No letters. No cheerful stories. Nothing except a dead baby she was too afraid to mention.

And the tears burst forth before even Hal could realize it. She turned away, barely catching a glimpse of Murtagh's stunned face. He made to go after her until she exclaimed, "I need to be left alone!" Then she stormed out, practically flinging herself down the long flight of spiral stairs. She had not particular destination in mind. All she knew was that she needed to be as far from Murtagh as possible.

…

The sun was high enough for the rays to be breaking over the treetops by the time Murtagh accepted that Hal was not coming back. Thorn had insisted on patience. To give Hal space. So Murtagh had sat at the table, his pitiful stack of cards right where he had dumped them, so foolishly excited to watch Hal spend the night reading them. To tease him how many there were and to proclaim her usual motto of how hopeless he was without her.

But the haunting shadow that had illuminated her face before she took off was the only memory he'd have instead. She'd look so…hurt. He had spent the entire night wracking his brain trying to figure out what he had overlooked. To understand why she had run from him so desperately.

Murtagh had not slept at all, and he felt it in his bones and muscles, which protested as he stood from the hunched position he had sat in all night. He felt haunted. He stared at his letters, suddenly disgusted by the sight of them.

Whatever is going on, Hal will explain, Thorn assured him. However, even the dragon did not sound like his usual confident self. He too was wounded by the way Hal had avoided even him, blocking their connection. I do not think it is your affections that upset her.

No. Murtagh did not think that either. However, they had triggered emotions Hal had not been prepared to face. After every attempt to keep her slow to form smile as present as possible, it had been brought down in the most unexpected of ways in the most unexpected of moments.

Hal had run. From him. She had not done that since he so foolishly made a comment about the fear of her magic killing someone…

He paused. Hours of thoughts running back and forth through his mind all night and only now did he make this connection. Her quiet disposition, the distant look in her eyes, even the way she did not sleep as close to him these past few nights like she normally would; he had known, deep down he had known something was wrong. But had he been wrong to try to pretend like there was nothing amiss all this time? She had stopped the Shade and had somehow even restored magic. But doing so meant she had killed her sister. However, he still didn't know anything about the events leading up to such a pivotal moment.

You look exhausted, Thorn commented as Murtagh entered the bedroom, the dragon curled up on the floor. Murtagh didn't have to look in a mirror to know this to be true. He felt it in his slow movements, his brain feeling somewhat foggy. Not to mention the thin layer of stubble across his cheeks. Take a bath, get some rest. We both know that Hal just needs space.

Was that all it was? Sure, before Hal had come back and told him what happened to her mother. Even if she had not run so far, she had attempted to when she had accidentally struck him with magic. Only when he insisted on remaining by her side then did she reveal what had happened to the Sani. Whatever she was going through, whatever dark thoughts held sway over her, he did not want her to endure them alone. In the end, he had always pushed her, ever so gently, and she had eventually relented.

He stumbled turning around on his heel, ignoring Thorn's suggestion for personal care — although he was so tired that part of his mind hadn't fully registered what the dragon had even said — and made his way down the stairs to try and find Hal.

However, just as his foot touched ground, he spotted a familiar face coming towards him and felt his stomach drop in nerves. Zara — no, dammit, Zola, they really did look alike even after all this time — was strolling towards him with a rather serious expression on her face. Considering this was their second time meeting while Murtagh was attempting to locate Hal, he was loathe to admit that she wasn't here.

When Zola was standing before him, he was able to take in the slight difference in her appearance from before. He almost smiled, noticing how much rounder her cheeks seemed, a glow to her skin. She wore elven skirts and a loose-fitting tunic, and he could tell even through the clothing she had put on a healthy weight. He knew Arya would make sure the Sani were taken care of, and he was happy to see proof of that standing before him now.

"Zola, it's good to see you again," he said sincerely. Before he could give room for her to not return the sentiment in kind, he quickly added, "Hal is not here, however."

"I know." Before he could ask, Zola added, "She's in my tent, sleeping. I only just managed to get her to calm down long enough to fall asleep an hour or so ago. I came here looking for you."

She spoke so sternly that Murtagh felt his muscles tense with panic, afraid that Zola was here to chastise him. Even though he knew he wouldn't deserve it, he would accept it. He couldn't explain why. All he knew was that his head was already dropping with shame.

"She was in a right state, falling into my tent in the middle of the night. Completely shocked her cousin."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?"

"I…I upset her. I wanted to chase after her, but I thought it best to give her space."

Zola gave him a questioning look. "The way Hal explained it to me, you did nothing wrong except prove why she chose you." She tilted her head, and her expression, to his surprise, softened. "She told me everything: what you've done for her — or tried to do for her — since you came here. The fact that you came here at all before she had to ask, stayed by her side and respected her wishes to not discuss things until she was ready, and the numerous stack of letters you wrote her. Why would you apologize for any of that?"

Murtagh swallowed. "Because despite all of that, she's still hurting, and I don't know how to help her."

Zola heaved a deep sigh, glancing away for a moment, thinking. Then her gaze dropped to the ground, an unmistakable sadness in her brown eyes, which she had always kept carefully guarded around Murtagh.

"I do not know everything either," she admitted. "Oh, I know much of what ails her, and I have encouraged her to tell you sooner rather than later so that she is not sitting in her hurt alone. However, in those final moments, she and Thea were out of my sight. In Thea's final moments, I do not know what she and Hal said to each other. All I know is that they disappeared, and in the time they were gone, the elves arrived. When I told Arya where Hal had gone, she went after them. When they came back, Hal was unconscious in her arms. Hal has not told anyone what has happened. Not even about how she returned magic. That foolish girl." The final three words were said with another mournful sigh before Zola looked over at Murtagh.

"What I can tell you is this: she bore a heavy burden. I was…I did not make her life easier after you left. I was stubborn, and I know I caused her stress…"

Zola suddenly turned away from him, pressing her hand to her mouth. Murtagh watched her, his throat tight at the sight of the woman trying not to cry.

"I was tough on her in all the wrong ways, I acknowledge that. And during that time, she still did everything she could to take care of us, just like her sister did. But people still died. Then came the time to leave, and those travels were brutal. And once more, people still died. I know she bears those deaths on her shoulders. All the while, we asked her to smile. Asked her to bear the weight a little longer."

Zola looked up at him, no longer hiding her tears, her eyes now set with determination. "We lost Thea to this. We were too weak, so we put all our hopes on her. She took her own life because of it. Until I brought her back as the monster who ruined her sister's life."

Murtagh actually reeled back in surprise, until his foot hit the bottom step again. "You…you were the one who turned Thea?"

"I didn't mean to — or rather, I didn't know what would become of her. The spirits who once possessed her spoke to me, told me what to do. Said it would bring her back. I was so desperate to save her, I did not stop to question the implications of what I was doing. I didn't care what Thea was or what she did. Not until Hal appeared and told me everything."

Murtagh shook his head, his mind reeling. "Why are you telling me this?"

Zola gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Because those are the actions of someone who should be sorry. And I am so very sorry. But you? You have nothing to be sorry for. She's hurting and she's scared to share that hurt, that darkness, with someone who is her light. Her words, not mine."

Murtagh felt his body grow warm, but he still felt a chill in his bones that he could not shake. "I assume Hal knows all of what you told me? Because I am not in the habit of keeping secrets from her."

At this, Zola smiled, impressed. "Aye. I confessed my role to her before we made the decision to leave the north for good."

Now it was his turn to sigh deeply, the monstrous size of Hal's turmoil become real and tangible. It was frightening to behold, but just like he had told her that day on the beach, by speaking such things into existence, it makes it plain what one is up against so that they can properly fight it.

"Do you mind if I go see her?" he asked.

"I would scold you if you didn't."

She walked him to the campsite the Sani had been calling home. Murtagh had not borne witness to it until now — Hal had neither brought him nor mentioned bringing him. He could not help but notice that she had not seemed inclined to visit herself once he had returned. In the bright, late morning sun, it was even more apparent how few Sani had survived the last tumultuous years of their existence. So few, and yet they were laughing and smiling amongst themselves. He noticed a small group of children huddled in a circle around Irindriel, who showed them something to their delight. A few adults were also peering over the shoulders of the little ones, but most were walking about, simply taking in their surroundings and the peace the forests had to offer. Although his time on Uden had been brief, he recalled how much thicker the forestry seemed on the island compared to Illium, and had to wonder if the older Sani were thinking of home.

Several eyes turned their way, curious glances. However, no one approached or said anything, giving them space.

"She's in there." Zola gestured with her chin to the tent a few more steps down, yet the woman had already lowered her voice.

"Thank you," Murtagh said. "Truly."

"It is the least I can do. Take as much time as you need. During the day, Morro insists on walks through the woods, so it is likely we will not be back for some time."

He nodded, continuing towards the tent with a determined air when Zola called out to him. When he looked back she said, "I should let you know now that I have offered you and Hal a proper Sani wedding. Not to replace the one you had, but to simply give her and our people something joyous that is worth celebrating. I hope that's all right with you."

Before he could stop himself, Murtagh broke out into a wide smile. "It would be an honor."

The woman smiled back before disappearing amongst the throng of her people. Murtagh wasn't quite sure why this proclamation had heartened him so — perhaps it was the subtle acknowledgement that he was Hal's husband while also extending such an important celebration to their union — but he felt himself standing straighter as he entered Zola's tent.

Hal was curled up asleep, tucked tightly under a thick blanket. He let the flaps of the tent fall closed, quickly blocking out the light that had entered. He slipped out of his boots and tip-toed over to Hal, lying down beside her. Remembering that Zola had said Hal had only just fallen asleep an hour ago, he was careful not to touch her, knowing how easily she would wake. Instead, he moved as close to her as he could manage, letting his arm rest under his head as a cushion. Then he closed his eyes, and let sleep claim him as well.