Nesta shifts, the softness of the sheets gliding across her legs and the warmth of the sun pooling in from the window as she shields her eyes slightly. She turns toward Cassian in bed and sees that he is already awake, arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling with an indiscernibly neutral look on his face. Not the Cassian she is so used to each morning.

"Cass?", she murmurs.

"Hm?", he hums, still distracted.

She lies her head on his firm, broad chest and places her hand on his abs. "Something on your mind?"

A loud sigh is heard in answer and he begins to stroke her golden brown hair absently. "It's not important."

"It looked important. Especially if it changes your whole mood."

"It's December twelfth."

"Yes...and what significance does that have to you?"

He swallows a lump in his throat then sits up, Nesta doing so as well.

"Cassian, I know I am not the softest soul, but if you need to talk, I'm here. I am your wife and your mate."

"I know that. It's just none of your concern, okay?"

Nests huffs. "Fine, whatever. I'm going to shower." Slipping from the covers, she makes her way over to their bathroom, tossing a forlorn look over her shoulder at him. He's already too distracted again to notice.

As she slips into the bathroom, Cassian watches as the door closes and then rubs his face. He gets up and goes into the kitchen, stretching his wings with a groan.

'Such an old male', a teasing voice flitters through his memory, causing him to sigh and shake it away.

He flexes his tense muscles and rolls his neck again as he asks the house to put breakfast out on the table. It eagerly obliges and he slinks into a chair, more memories coming to his mind.

{Cassian grips her waist as he kisses her with passion, not wanting to relent. She giggles against his lips and strokes his cheek. "Later, you hulking brute."

"This is dangerous. I—I would never assume to tell you what to do or what not to do. I know that your legion is just as strong and bale as mine, and you are a necessary part of it. The most important part of it. We are both leaders. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. I worry, Tanwyn."

Tanwyn leans up and kisses him again, her hands stroking the bulk of his shoulders and down his biceps. "I'm flattered that you worry, darling. But you know that I can take care of myself. I am not the leader of the Valkyries for no reason. I've trained rigorously and I have all the strength I need."

"That does not save everyone. We are both warriors. We have seen some of our own fight and die; soldiers and valkyries who were equally matched to us. Hybern, and all those who are vile enough to create this disaster...they don't care who they hurt."

"You can't seriously be asking me to stand down, Cass."

"No, I—I'd never do that because I know you never would, like me."

Her golden breastplate shines in the sun and the cream skirt that lies above her leathers flutters in the soft breeze. "We were made for this, Cassian. Both of us. I want you to be careful too. We are all at risk. But war is a risk to all. Every single soldier and Valkyrie out there today has someone or something to lose. Every single one. We are no different for being the leaders of our legions." Her warm bronze skin seems to glow in the brightness of the day, matching the gleam of her sword. "Plus, I have Muinín here to keep me company", she grins.

Cassian beholds her in all her glory, a smile brighter and more powerful than the sun and a million storms, her clear chocolate eyes set and determined, and her short black hair swaying in the breeze, showing some of the strands she had dyed red. Her visible reminder of sacrifice, danger, and courage.

"That you do", he breathes, letting out a stressed chuckle. "But you know I am always stressed seeing you run toward danger.

"Oh, because I'm a female?"

He rolls his eyes and yanks her close against his own armor again. "No. Because you're my female."

Tanwyn smirks cheekily and playfully bites his earlobe, earning herself a small gasp of approval. "Tonight, general. And all the nights after that if you'll have me."

Cassian nods and brings his large hands up to cup her face. "Marry me."

Her expression turns to one of shock and her eyes widen. "What?"

"After the war. Marry me, Tannie."

Her eyes water slightly, and she swallows hard. "You're sure? What if you have a—"

"You'll be my mate. You're the one I want. Say yes."

She takes a deep breath and stares into his eyes. "Yes. Cassian Tyr, General of the Illyrian Legion of the Night Court Army, Lord of Bloodshed, Master Jokester, and Drinking Connoisseur", she beams, "I will marry you."

He sweeps her up in his arms and spins her around, snogging her as if oxygen doesn't exist. }

Cassian doesn't even notice that Nesta is sitting in front of him, scrutinizing him, until she reaches over and brushes a tear from his face. He blinks and focuses, his gaze landing on her concerned face.

"There is definitely something up with you. You're crying in the middle of our kitchen on a Sunday morning, and you haven't even touched any of the food. That is severely strange."

He sniffs and reaches out, clasping his smaller hands in his large ones on the table. "Nes, there's—", he sighs shakily. "There are things that I don't speak of and prefer not to speak of, things that I never told you that I should have told you. There are some things about me that you should know because I know all about you and it's only fair. Not even Rhys or Azriel know."

Her eyes widen slightly. She was under the impression that the bat boys didn't hide anything from one another, with over 500 years of friendship and brotherhood under their belts and all. "What can be so bad that you wouldn't tell them? Or me?"

"Not...bad. Just personal. Personal and painful", he whispers.

Nesta's silvery blue eyes glint as they look into his. She squeezes his hands lovingly. "I'm here."

"You may be angry."

"Try me."

Cassian swallows the lump in his throat and intertwines their fingers. "As you know...I'm sure—I have had lovers before you."

Nesta cracks a smile and snorts. "Cassian did you really think that I thought you were virginal?"

He blushes and his lip twitches upward. "No, but that's not what I'm getting at, Nes."

"Okay, okay, sorry", she stifles another chuckle. "I'm listening. Go ahead."

He searches her eyes for a moment then brings her knuckles to his lips, brushing his lips over them.

"Cassian. You're stalling."

"I had one serious partner", she says softly. "It wasn't just a one-off or some fun from time to time. She was—she was the only other long-term lover that I had aside from you. And I had loved her fiercely."

"Tanwyn", she whispers.

His brow furrows.

"I know she was your lover. A Valkyrie, right?"

"Yes, but she was a lot more than that."

"Is that so?", her eyebrow raises.

He nods and his throat bobs. "Yes", he whispers, and she can see the intense wave of grief that crosses over his features, so intense that it twinges her own heart.

"She died while you were together", she murmurs. "Is that it?"

"Yes. Well, no. Sort of."

Nesta stays quiet, waiting for him to continue, using the smallest of nods to urge him.

"Today is the day she died. The day many, many soldiers and Valkyries died."

"I'm sorry, Cass."

"She was the leader of the Valkyrie legion. And I loved her. She was something I never expected, and never knew I needed. She grounded me and sobered me, but she could also be super fun and she was one of the only warriors who could win against me in grappling, believe it or not. She was a force."

Nesta swallows, a bit of doubt creeping into her mind. 'Of course, she is a warrior in her own right, but not equal to Cassian. And now with hardly any power...' she pushes the self-deprecating thoughts away and kisses his knuckles absently.

"Anyway, it was the war against all of the Loyalists—the faerie lands that wanted to keep human slaves. Hybern, of course, was at the helm of it, along with Tamlin's father, Beron, and many other fae leaders from kingdoms on the continent, like Xian, the Black Lands, Rask, Vallahan, and a couple of others. All very powerful, all very deadly. We were very young. It was our first big war. Little battles had taken place and I had been successful in leading the Illyrians in those, which is how I got promoted to General. But whether that was because of my skill or the fact that I was one of two of the most powerful Illyrians to ever live...it was probably the latter since Rhysand's father was High Lord. Anyway, I readied to lead the Illyrians, and Tannie—Tanwyn readied to lead the Valkyries. Her legion was heading for the Gollian Mountains where Hybern had a large army and assistance from Beron's. The Illyrians and I headed in the opposite direction near the Steppes. A Hybern army and one controlled by...by Amarantha."

Nesta listens intensely, her eyes widened. "So many awful people at once."

"Yes. Before we left to meet with our armies and wait for orders, we just—talked. I've replayed the conversation in my head so many times, it's like a movie." His eyes begin to fill with tears and Nesta feels hers welling up as well.

"We bantered a bit, like usual. Kissed, held one another..."

Nesta bites her lip and squeezes his hands.

Cassian draws in a shaking breath and sniffs. "I had asked her to marry me."

"What?", Nesta says in surprise.

A couple of tears fall down his face and he allows them to. "I never told a soul", he chokes out. "It's funny in a way, she asked me if I was absolutely sure because I may have a mate out there in the world. And I had told her that she would be my mate. That I loved her and wanted her. And then...she said yes. And that was all the hope that I needed to get through that fucking war alive. I wasn't going to let anything stop me from returning home to her." His voice is rough and choppy as he lowers his head onto his fists. "I'm sorry."

Nesta gets up and sits next to him, wrapping her arms around his broad body. He chokes out a sob and wraps an arm around her, then pulls her into his lap. She lets him cry into her shoulder for a bit, stroking his soft, wavy, brown hair.

"When it was over and I returned, a-all I had to do was see Rhys's face and Azriel's avoidance and I knew. I-I knew she was dead. I screamed and raged and broke down right there and then. I-I destroyed his father's entire office. I think that is the one and only time they have ever seen me completely broken. They told me that her entire legion went through the mountain pass, but not one came out the other side."

Tears are slowly rolling down Nesta's cheeks as well now as she clings to him. "Oh, Cass..."

"So not only did I never get the closure I needed for my mother's death, but I didn't for Tannie either. I couldn't save either of them. A-And I should have been able to save her. I should've been the prick that got her rejected from helping. But she wouldn't have—there was no way she wasn't going to fight that day, she was as stubborn as me. As unmoving. I don't know what happened to her that day, but it is rumored that Beron and Hybern's forces burned them all to ash in an ambush; an unfair fight of magic versus weaponry." He hiccups a sob and his entire bulky form trembles with guilt. "The war lasted another three years after she died, and I prayed every fucking day that someone would push their sword through my heart. But death never came to claim me."

Nesta sniffles and presses her lips to his, cupping his face. Cassian kisses back and holds her.

"I'm not angry at you, Cass. It was long, long before me. I can see how much you love her...because you look at me with the same eyes that I saw when you talked about her. I'm sorry you ended up with someone...not as equal as you. Someone barely powerful enough to blow out a candle with her magic", she says quietly. "But one thing you do have is my heart. And I will never regret that. You are allowed to grieve. I'm sorry that you ever felt you couldn't tell me, and that you didn't tell your family that you proposed to her. I think they would have understood your grief a bit more if they knew you were that serious about her."

Cassian's face becomes slightly sterner as he grips her chin gently with his thumb and finger. "Nesta, you are my mate. You are my equal. You are power; your heart, your soul, and your will is power. Power equal to, or even better than mine. I swear to you."

Nesta cuddles into his chest, and they sit in silence for a moment.

"Only her sword and one from her closest friend, Allora, were recovered. I like to think that they went together, and she wasn't alone. I them...but the handle to Tanwyn's is partially melted, deformed. You know, I see her kind of spirit in you, Nes. I have a type", he smiles half-heartedly.

Her eyes sparkle, no doubt thinking of Gwyn and Emerie and how they would have gone together too. She chuckles breathily and strokes his arm. "Is that so?"

"It is so. For example, you have Ataraxia. Tanwyn named her sword too. Muinín. It translates to trust. Trust in herself, her abilities, and her legion, her friends. I was thinking maybe I should have it re-melded. For another special Valkyrie. And maybe her best friend's should go to yet another."

"Gwyn and Emerie", she breathes. Nesta looks up at him and kisses him deeply, her fingers dig into the tresses of his hair, and her tongue darts into his mouth to taste him, to revel in his scent and the feeling of him around her.

When they eventually break apart panting for breath and flushed, Cassian finally grins before it wavers. "Now you know why I was a bit apprehensive about Gwyn's Valkyrie idea. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let you three believe that it wasn't a good thing."

"You didn't, Cass. But your seriousness about it makes a lot more sense. I want you to know though that we will honor her and her friends. They are our inspirations, and I hope that Tanwyn and the rest of them would be proud of us."

"Oh, Nes. I can only imagine her smile and how happy she would be to have the second coming of the Valkyries. You are a wonder, my love."

Nesta smiles and nuzzles his neck. "Even when I'm not training, and I look as big as a house?"

"Well, I think us having mini Cassians would also make her laugh."

Nesta giggles and slaps his chest, feeding him a croissant that he bites enthusiastically.

"I like the other house by the way. You did good finding it."

"Yeah? Nice and perfectly ground level for you?"

"Perfectly. Just remember to wake me up early to bring me there tomorrow. Don't forget."

"I would never forget you, Nes. Never."

"Good", she murmurs, biting the croissant and slowly circling her hips on his lap, causing him to groan a curse as she laughs teasingly through her bite.

.

.

.

Viviane shuffles into the bedroom and meets the weary eyes of her husband and mate.

"She's finally down?"

"Mhh", she mumbled, collapsing beside him in their bed, burying her face in his chest. His soothing scent of pine and frost eases her muscles slightly.

"You never cease to amaze me, Viv."

She scoffs into his shirt. "For taking care of the child I bore?"

"For being the best mother and mate anyone could ever ask for."

A twinge of pink appears on her cheeks as she reaches up and presses a soft kiss to his lips. "You're fairly great yourself." She rubs his chest. "You have a lot of things on your shoulders as well, Kal, and you never waver on being able to separate business and family. It's very admirable."

Kallias draws her closer into his arms and pulls the blanket over them. "I'd never do anything that could jeopardize us. I never want to be put in a position to lose you again. It—it still haunts me. All those years Under the Mountain wondering if you knew, if I'd ever get the chance to tell you. There is the cold, reserved, serious High Lord I present to all of Prythian, and then there is simply the overgrown boy that I reserve for you, Viviane. Even if I wanted to try and hide my feelings and shit from you, you know me too well. You see right through me. Always have."

A beautiful smile blooms on her lips and she runs her pale fingers through his stark white hair, admiring the softness of it, looking like the spun snow that caps their mountains. "I knew, Kal. I prayed that one day I would hear it. And every piece of me was shattered at the fact that there was a possibility I never would. But I knew then, how much you loved me, as much as I know now. I wish we hadn't been so foolish in hindsight, trying to swallow down our feelings, thinking we could have other mates. It's ridiculous when you really think of it—we were always the perfect match. We clicked, and we made sense. My strengths and your weaknesses and vice versa, they work together flawlessly."

He kisses along her jaw, breathing in her scent deeply, soothing his soul. He shudders and his grip becomes slightly tighter around her body and she knows he's remembering—remembering the moment he was forced to send out that last burst of magic and put his Court in her hands. She remembers the events that led up to it as well.

{ Viviane comes storming into the High Lord's bedroom, like a tornado, hands flying to her hips and eyes alight with pure icicles that could surely pierce his heart. "Kallias Isarr Noel!"

Oh boy, full name.

"Viviane Khione Beira", he replies, spinning around to face her, clad in his blue, white, and silver High Lord finery. He can nearly see her twitching in annoyance.

"You cannot honestly think that this is a good idea! Amarantha? Hosting a party? To celebrate Spring? She just ripped Tamlin's emissary's eye out mere months ago. What makes you think that she won't do worse to anyone else who crosses her?"

Kallias sighs and walks over to her. "She is dangerous, and this is why we must appease her for the time being. So that soon the High Lords can get together and come up with a plan to get her out of Prythian."

Viviane grips his lapels, wanting to shake him out of anger. "Don't you see how foolish this is?"

His head dips and their lips are close—too close. So close he could feel their breaths intermingling and warming. "I realize that. But we have no choice. She made herself High Queen, she has Hybernian power at her disposal. She could tear our Courts down one by one if we don't try to be peaceful with her. Ignoring a call to attend her party would most likely be suicide." His hands grip her hips where hers once were and his tongue sweeps across his lips. He hears her own breath catch and her throat bob.

"Who says going there isn't?", she murmurs, her grip on his lapels getting tighter and her icy blue eyes wide and staring into his.

Something seems to shift in his gaze, and he pulls away from her, pacing and running a hand through his slicked hair. "That's the problem, Viv. It's a lose-lose situation. But I have to go. I won't be the one cowardly High Lord that doesn't show up."

"I know", she mumbles defeatedly.

Kallis sighs. "Anyway, how was training today? Is the army ready if there is in fact a battle with her on the horizon?"

"It went well. Yes, they are ready. We did a very vigorous training course today. I half think they may hate me now", she chuckles lightly.

Kallias raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Well if you're one thing, it's intense."

Viviane rolls her eyes and then sighs, shifting her weight onto her good ankle, hoping he doesn't see. Unfortunately, he notices, as he does much of everything.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me."

"Kal. I'm fine. I just sprained my ankle while sparring. Stupid me got distracted—something I can't afford, so really it's my own punishment."

"Sit."

"Kallia—"

"Sit", he nearly growls.

That frosty command tells her she should just listen, as she perches on the edge of his bed.

He kneels before her and she can feel her face heating at the sight as he tenderly cups her calf in his hands over her leggings. "I'm going to pull your boot off. It might hurt a little."

She peers down at him and nods. "I'm not a stranger to pain."

Another flicker of something indiscernible comes to his eyes before he looks down and carefully slides her boot off, causing her to hiss a bit. Her ankle is very purple. "Viviane", he scolds. "Why the fuck have you been walking around like this?"

"I told you, it's fine. It'll be healed by tomorrow anyway."

"I will help it along now, instead."

"You're supposed to be getting ready for your fancy High Lord's party."

His eyes meet hers again. "You're my best friend and my general. Your safety and comfort matter to me more than fine clothes and perfectly pressed hair."

She smirks and slowly runs her fingers through the fluffy plumes of his hair, grinning. "Is that so?"

"Mhm." He grits his teeth and she grins, knowing that he does in fact, prefer his hair to be all neat. Shaking his head at her antics, he begins to massage her ankle, using a bit of his power to ice the area as he does so.

Viviane moans and groans through the soreness until she breathes out in surprise. "Oh, wow..." The purple is beginning to fade quickly as his hands work.

He smiles boyishly up at her. "Feeling better?"

"Much...thank you."

"Always." He slips her boot back on and slowly slides his hands over her calf again, something that should not seem so terribly intimate, yet it does as he kneels before her, touching her as if she is a precious commodity.

"Kal", she whispers, knowing that the need she has been feeling when he is close to her is not appropriate and that they are best friends. They have been very close to crossing that line from friends to more so many times, but she doesn't know why they haven't yet. She certainly wants to and she knows that he wants to as well. But he is a High Lord, and she, his general. Not to mention that they both may have mates out there.

His hand has slowly crept up to her thigh and her eyes flutter slightly, knowing he can scent her arousal. 'How utterly indecent for something so simple', she scolds herself.

"Viviane", he murmurs, his voice rough as sandpaper and deliciously smoky. He stands up then, his hands gripping her hips as he lords over her. She leans back to keep his intense gaze and bites her lip when her back hits the mattress.

Her eyes dart from his hungry eyes to his sensual lips, wanting them on her. Anywhere. "Please", she finds herself murmuring, wanting—no, needing to taste him.

His eyes glisten with mischief as he crawls up on the bed, his body lowering on top of hers slowly. "Viviane..."

"No talking", she murmurs, her breaths quickening as she reaches up to cup his face. Just as he dips his head to finally kiss her, a very loud knock comes at the door and he growls.

"Not now!"

"Sir, the sentries are waiting and you must leave soon to be there on time. It—It is Amarantha, sir."

"I know who it is!", he shouts, his cutting, cold tone full of frustration and anger. "I will be out shortly."

"Yessir." The footsteps fade and he glances back down at Viviane, her eyes searching and weary.

Kallias clears his throat and gets up, awkwardly straightening himself out. "Apologies, Lady Viviane."

She snorts and sits up on the bed cross-legged. "What, so nothing happens and suddenly I'm Lady Viviane? What the fuck, Kal."

He sets his jaw and fixes his hair in the mirror quickly. "I must go. I can't afford to look like I have any weaknesses. Surely, you understand that."

"I'm going too."

"No."

"Yes."

"Viv!", he growls, lowly and sharp. "You are not. I will not have you anywhere near that monster do you understand?"

"And you think I want you near her?" Viviane reaches for him and he evades her grasp.

"I am the High Lord. It is my duty, not yours."

"You can't stop me from attending with the others."

"I can, and I will if I must."

"You wouldn't", she snaps, leveling him with a glare that could cut any other male down.

His eyes search hers as if saying he doesn't want to but definitely will if need be. "I would. Do not test that. Do not test the fine line between my care for you and my loyalty to doing what must be done."

She bares her teeth at him. "You will not order me around like a dog."

"I am your High Lord, which means I can order anyone around at my leisure. You included when you're being a fool."

Anger wells up in her chest so potent that she tears up. "You have never taken my choices away."

"And in any other situation, you know for a fucking fact that I wouldn't. But this is Amarantha. Life or death. If this is a trap, I will not have you there."

"You don't trust me", she breathes out, reeling back as if she's been slapped.

"No. Viviane, I trust you so much that if this all goes to shit, you're the only one I trust to keep these people together."

Her lips part and her breaths come out shakily, her eyes widening in disbelief. "I—"

He swallows and walks over to her. "No matter what happens, I do trust you. With my entire Court. Keeping you here...it's not only because I care about you. It's because I care about everyone.

She sniffles. "Please. Don't use a High Lord order on me."

"I need you here, Viv. Tell me you'll stay."

Her hands tremble as she wrings them out, swallowing down her annoyance, anger, and fear and raising her chin to his gaze, the steely mask of his general coming over her face. "I'll stay. For you, High Lord." She gets off the bed and takes a knee in front of him, placing her right hand over her heart, as his own heart clenches.

'Wrong. This was so wrong.'

"Get up", he says, his voice breaking just the slightest. She remains with her head bowed and his jaw clenches. It takes everything inside of him not to fall to his knees in front of her. He was not her equal, he knew that. But in heart, he knows they are. "Get up, Viviane."

"Yes, my Lord." She stands up slowly and he looks into her eyes.

They can hear the small calvary arrive outside and he swallows the lump in his throat. "I will see you later."

"I hope it is an enjoyable party, High Lord", she says, gracefully, as if she were a common sentry.

Every nerve in his body is begging him to run over to her and beg for forgiveness, to fall into their usual banter, and to curl up and ignore this fucking party—to finish what they had started. But he is High Lord, and he does have duties to Prythian. Chosen by magic. It should be a blessing, an honor, but it has only served to divide him by rank from his best friend in the entire world; rank that is all too obvious and has changed them, even if it's an unspoken change. He hates knowing that she works for him, under him. And not with him.

"Me too", he mumbles, taking in her face once more before stepping around her and walking out, not having the nerve to look back to see what would most likely be a broken expression from their argument. They did not argue very often, and it feels like since he has become High Lord their tension has been much worse.

.

.

.

"Forty plus nine years", Amarantha drawls, tossing a vicious blood-red smirk to Tamlin, who looks about ready to rip her throat out.

Kallias stands as frozen as his soul with the other High Lords and their sentries, watching in horror at the sentence. Everything inside of him feels sick and weak.

When she is done with her spiel, she lets out a victorious laugh. "Oh, and the rest of the Courts will stay here until he is either successful or a failure. Forty plus nine years here with me, Under the Mountain, doing my bidding. "Say thank you to your Queen for hosting you so long."

A drawl of silence.

"You imbeciles!", her hand reaches out and her gleefully sickening laugh fills the cavern as they all watch in horror, her power reaching into their very chests and drawing out their powers, pulling them into her. There is a frenzy then, all of them shouting and trying to keep a grip on their magic, to no avail.

'Drugged. She used the fae wine to strip them of their magic with Hybernian spells.'

Kallias drops to his knees and pulls from every bit of those fractals of icy remnants still within him and throws out that weakened power to his home Court, praying on the Mother herself that the message is received loud and clear. That Viviane can somehow keep them afloat through this treachery.

.

.

.

Viviane brushes out her snow-white hair, wavy from being bound in its braid all day. As she sets the brush down, she feels a whirlwind of frozen magic encompass her body and infuse into her veins as she shudders from the force of it. A deep, sinking feeling hits her soul and immediately she knows. Trapped. They are trapped. Trapped or dead.

Kallias had gifted her with some of his power. Maybe all that was left of his power. It's up to her to lead this Court now. A Court that will be extremely reluctant to listen to a woman.

"No...no. No!", the wails are ripped from her throat as she sinks to her knees, tears already streaming down her face. "No", she sobs hard, burying her face in her hands. "Please, gods, no. Please. Please if he's alive, keep him safe. Please, keep him safe", she bawls, the resounding silence of her bedroom surrounding her. }

Viviane clings to him and kisses along his neck, to his ear. "I love you, Kal. I love you. Forever and always. In this life and all the next ones. My soul will find yours for eternity."

{ Kallias pants hard from the influx of all his High Lord's powers back into his body as the evil queen was slain. As soon as he can, he had grabbed what was left of his people and winnowed home.

Home. Home. Where Viviane is. Who Viviane is. The Court itself with its snowy landscapes, frosted pines, and rampant wildlife was a sense of familiarity, but not what he meant. Viviane. Viviane was his home.

Her name and her conjured face in his mind replay with every staggered step towards the palace doors, looking the same as how he left it. And for a brief moment, he wonders how she has been faring. How much she has changed since taking on his role. How much, if anything, she still feels for him after how he left her.

Bursting into the foyer, he pants and looks around wildly. "Viviane!", he screams out for her. "Viviane!"

A few servants rush out and gape at their High Lord, bearded, ragged, and staggering. Viviane sweeps into the room, the picture of royalty in a flowing ice-blue dress, her eyes reaching his. "K-Kal...oh my gods, Kal!?" She screams and runs full force into his arms, knocking them both onto the tiled floor.

He grips her tightly in his arms as they both weep brokenly, the pain in their hearts almost too much to bear. All the longing, guilt, fear, and craving to be close to one another comes crashing down on them. Every moment of missing one another. Every moment of prayer and hope. Every moment of wondering and not knowing.

The servants sneak out to give them some space, and they become a cluster of gripping hands and wandering lips as they touch and kiss one another's faces. Kallias sobs brokenly and tears rush down Viviane's face as she holds him, pressing kisses over and over to his cheeks, his temple, his forehead. The second they calm down enough to breathe slightly more evenly, Kallias uses his magic to take away the straggly beard on his face, leaving it smooth, then grabs Viviane's head, fingers tangling in her hair as he claims her mouth with his, desperately and hungrily. He doesn't even stifle his groan of pure want as she opens to him, kissing back with equal fervor.

Only when they part for air does he being to speak, the world tumbling over his lips like a raging waterfall.

"I love you. I love you. Oh, gods, Viv, I love you. I've always fucking loved you. I should've said it. I should've told you. I never should have left that way. I'm so sorry...Viv I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I love you. I'm sorry. I—", his breaths come in ragged, desperate pants as she throws her arms around his neck, her fingers delving into his hair as well.

Viviane stifles her own sob and presses her forehead against his. "I love you too. I always have, Kal. I'm here. You're here. You made it. I forgive you. I love you so much. I just need you. Please. Now and forever."

"N-Now and forever", he repeats, still in disbelief as he stands up on shaking legs. "Marry me. Rule by my side."

"Yes. Always yes."

"Right now. I'll find a priestess."

"Anywhere, anytime, Kal."

For the first time in fifty years, a smile spreads across his face. Not more than an hour later, his eyes fill with happy tears beholding his new bride. Officially his, as he is officially hers. Never apart again. As they get back to the palace, he whisks her into the bedroom, showing her exactly how much he has always desired her.

Once sated, their pleasured gazes of crystal and ice meeting, that's when it happens. It appears. The sharp, hard, determined tugging in their chests, pulling them closer together. The mating bond.

Not only best friends, nor husband and wife, but mates. True and equal mates.

Viviane lets out a happy sob at that and kisses her snow Lord once more, his embrace covering her body as he tucks her into him, the most glorious sound hitting her ears in fifty years.

His velvet laugh of disbelief and pure joy.

"Mates", they murmur in unison. }

"Always yours." He strokes her cheek and kisses her deeply and passionately, slowly pressing her to the mattress and showing her just how much he loves her back, a frenzy likened to the one they indulged in the moment he was back from Under the Mountain.