A/N: I didn't plan for Elara and Quinn to enter the Alliance at the same time, but I kind of love that it worked out that way.

Chapter Rating: M (Sexual content)

Word count: 6,028

Odessen
Receiving Hangar
Three Days Later
0500 Hours

Cormac pushed through the crowd, heart pounding against his ribs until it was all that he could hear. Rumor had spread that Fynta went in search of Elara and the kids, and everyone had turned up to see if it was true. The crowd parted around Balic like water, sensing that he wasn't going to ask politely. Elara's laughter from when she'd called to tell him that they were finally free echoed almost as loud as Balic's thundering heart. It had been the longest three days of his life.

The roar of engines made Cormac's pulse kick higher. They were close, just over the horizon. Electric suspense ran along his arms at the prospect of wrapping them around his wife and son. Eight months. The weight of it nearly crushed him. But, it's over, he thought, they're almost here. Almost home. The hope kept repeating itself until it wasn't words anymore, just pure emotion.

The Thunderclap crested the mountain peak at the same time that Cormac made it to the front of the waiting mob. Noara appeared by his side, one hand resting on his forearm. She didn't say anything, but he appreciated the little Jedi's support. Almost here, he repeated, fingers clenching and relaxing while he tried to keep from running onto the landing pad before it was safe.

Cormac's eyes burned, and he blinked to clear them. A tear slipped free to run down his cheek as the landing gear lowered. It took an eternity for the engines to wind down and the ramp to open. Fynta appeared first, waving to the cheering masses, followed by Aric and Shillet. Cormac sucked in a breath and started forward. He saw the moment the Nautolan picked him out in the crowd and opened his arms in time to catch her mid-leap. Laughing, Cormac held her tight. "Damn, kid. You've gotten big."

"I've missed you, Balic." Scaly lips pressed a gentle kiss to Cormac's cheek and he savored the moment. Though his name wasn't on her adoption certificate, Shillet was just as much a part of his family as Tayl.

Cormac met Jorgan's eyes over the girl's shoulder. The man nodded, striding forward to pry Shillet off him. "Congratulations," Cormac choked, setting her on the ground. He ruffled Shillet's head tresses and laughed when she batted his hand away. "Go and settle in, we'll catch up later."

Shillet's face brightened with a smile that made Cormac's heart chest tighten, then allowed Jorgan to steer her inside. Fynta wasn't far behind. Her hand made contact with Cormac's rear and she passed, chin jerking towards the ship. "Go get them, big guy."

Fynta moved into the crowd, hooking an arm through Noara's and pulling attention away from Cormac. He started for the ship on numb feet that moved toward a limping run by the time he'd made it halfway. Thundering up the ramp, Cormac called for Elara before he cleared the cargo bay. He cursed his leg for slowing him down.

Elara stepped out of the conference room, and Cormac's world tilted around him. They stared at each other for forever. "Hey, doll." The pathetic greeting made Elara laugh, and that sound broke the spell, spurring him into motion. At last, Balic felt the warmth of his wife's body against his.

Neither spoke. They held each other, too tightly, but it didn't matter. Cormac caught movement in the archway and a set of clear, grey eyes peeking from beneath a wealth of black hair. Cormac released Elara and lowered to his good knee in front of his son. "I missed you, buddy." His hand out, Cormac held his breath as fear and guilt over abandoning his family warred.

Tayl reached out, small hand resting in Balic's. Breath left him in a relieved laugh as he gently pulled his son into a hug. They were here, finally safe and Cormac planned to never let them go again.

A man cleared his throat from the airlock, and Balic turned to find Vector watching with clasped hands. "Apologies, but we were asked to inform you that this vessel is at your disposal for however long you require."

Cormac stood, blinking at the diplomat. "I thought there was a quarantine." One hand rested on Tayl's shoulder while the other wrapped around Elara's waist. He'd planned to spend the next week in a suppression chamber along with his family, though hadn't looked forward to the scrutiny that would have put them under.

"Through…" Cormac wasn't sure how he could tell, but he got the impression of Vector's all black eyes flicking towards Tayl before he continued. "Questioning, we have ascertained that Saresh informed several key members of the Republic of her destination before the coop. Your wife's tracker no longer matters."

Silence filled the gap, and Vector's head tipped. "If you so please, Dr. Oggurobb would still be willing to remove any devices implanted from either you, or your son, Captain. We understand he is most curious about its construction."

Ice settled in Cormac's veins. "What do you mean in our son?" If those bastards had tagged Tayl, it was going to take a lot more than a galactic warrant to stop Balic from tearing them a new one.

Placing a hand on Balic's stomach, Elara nodded to their guest. "Thank you, Mr. Hyllus. I will seek out Dr. Oggurobb presently. For now, I'd like to spend this time with my family."

"Of course." Vector smiled and bent slightly at the waist. "If you should find yourself in need, contact us directly. Do enjoy your time together, and welcome home." Without another word, the man turned and let himself off the ship.

Cormac wanted to chase after Vector and demand to know why he thought someone would put a tracking chip in his kid, but Elara's small arms encircling his waist drove the fury from his mind. He watched as Tayl wandered back to a pile of toys in the briefing room, then looked down to find his wife gazing up at him. Her eyes held only acceptance; none of the damnation that he'd expected for leaving them alone for so long.

Tomorrow, Balic promised. He'd look into the tracker situation tomorrow. For now, he had a lot of catching up to do.

"He'll be an engineer, I think," Elara mused, pulling Cormac from his internal fretting to where their son played with anti-grav blocks in the corner. They followed the directions keyed into his datapad and snapped together to form architecture that confounded the laws of physics. Balic smiled, then shifted focus to his wife.

Elara looked the same, mostly. There were lines around her eyes that hadn't been there when Havoc left to join the Alliance, and her standard military bun seemed thicker. Cormac pulled her closer, stopping short of lifting her feet off the ground; Elara hated that. Finally, the weight squeezing his chest released and Cormac closed his eyes. Elara was warm and soft as her arms wrapped tightly around him. Her knee bumped Cormac's leg brace, and she pulled back to scowl at it. "I thought you were out of that."

Blushing, Cormac rubbed the back of his neck. "The big one, yeah." Elara tipped her head, lips pressed together. It was as intimidating as any of Fynta's eyebrow raises. He lifted his hands with a boyish grin. "I didn't want you worrying. It's just to help the knee, that's all."

"Sit." Elara pointed towards the row of chairs, her command garnering Tayl's attention for half a second. No doubt the boy had heard that tone before and knew when someone was in trouble. Cormac just hadn't expected it to be him. Not so soon, at least. His money had been on Fynta.

Carefully, Cormac lowered his bulk onto one of the worn out cushions, glancing down when it squeaked. He chuckled and rubbed his stomach. "I might've put on a few pounds with all this loafing about." Though he tried to stay active, limited mobility had made life more difficult. He remembered Fynta's grumbling about losing stamina after completing her physical therapy when she lost her leg. He'd teased her relentlessly and secretly hoped those memories had been lost permanently when Valkorion was in residence.

Elara knelt between Cormac's knees, and his throat went dry. It was probably wrong to fantasize about what he'd prefer his wife do while she was down there with their son in the same room, but the images wouldn't be denied. Oblivious to Cormac's agony, Elara tugged the loose pant leg higher to examine the mechanism that kept his knee in place. She hummed and clicked her tongue, nimble fingers prodding at every ticklish spot around the joint. Cormac tried, and failed, to keep still.

At last, Elara sat back on her heels and declared that she was pleased with Balic's progress. He huffed out a pained breath and leaned back in his chair. "Once we get some privacy, maybe you could do a more thorough exam." The words slipped out, hanging between them for a solid five seconds before Elara...laughed.

Folding her arms around her middle, always poised Elara Dorne chortled until tears ran down her face. Once he'd recovered from the shock, Cormac joined her until they were both bent double with hysterics that neither could put into words. Elara recovered first, wiping at her cheeks while spasms continued to sneak up on her. "Oh, I've missed you."

Cormac held out his hand, pulling Elara onto his thighs when she accepted. One arm snaked around his neck while the fingers of their free hands intertwined in her lap. Together, they watched their son construct an alien civilization. Cormac pressed a kiss to his wife's hair and savored the moment. "Me too, doll. Me too."

Odessen
Landing Platform
0700 Hours

"Agent Holran, we have incoming." Zolah leaned on the desk behind the tech and scowled at the readout. To her knowledge, they weren't expecting anyone. Zolah had closed borders to incoming traffic with the exception of the Gravestone team while she and Vector were away. Notiac hadn't mentioned receiving a request to land, and there was nothing on the long range sensors to indicate an attack formation.

"Put it through to the holotable." Pushing away from the console, Zolah was surprised to find an Imperial Corvette on display. It was small enough to require a marginal crew and usually allocated to the upper echelons of society. On a hunch, she dialed Fynta's frequency.

The woman answered on voice only, and Zolah heard the clatter of cantina noise in the background. Her brow lifted, though she chose not to comment on the fact that a normal person would be spending lost time with her family, not getting sloshed on home brewed hooch. "I've got an incoming Imperial vessel. Do you know anything about this?"

"Shab." Fynta appeared a moment later with an apologetic expression in place. "My bad, Zolah. I forgot that Acina said she was going to send a guy to help with the supply shortage. He's supposed to be good."

"You...forgot?" Zolah inhaled, forcing down the desire to once again lay hands on the Alliance's commanding officer. The woman was an incompetent idiot who, unfortunately, made a valuable ally and seemed to be unkillable.

Fynta shrugged, though not in her normal, arrogant way. "She sent the request through to my personal comm while I was packing ammo. With everything else going on—shab, he got here fast."

Zolah pressed her lips into a thin smile that the other woman no doubt recognized by now. "We'll discuss this later. Given that he is Imperial, Vector and I will handle introductions. Do you have his file?"

"On the way," Fynta replied almost before Zolah had finished speaking. Her datapad vibrated at the same time that Fynta tucked away something unseen. "Let me grab Aric and we'll meet you up there."

"I don't believe that is wi—" The image blinked out of existence along with Zolah's protests. Closing her eyes, she counted to ten, then added another five for good measure. When they opened, Vector stood in front of her with a half smirk on his demure lips. "Not a word," she warned

The Joiner allowed his mouth to quirk a fraction more as his head tipped. "We offer only our aid."

Two hours later, Zolah leaned against the railing of one of the elevated landing pads while she perused Major Quinn's file. His service to the Empire was exemplary, so far as Zolah could see. He'd even traveled with a Sith for several years, though the dossier contained few details about his purpose in that regard. There was a splotchy bit roughly fifteen years earlier, but the man was otherwise pristine. She wondered how well he'd take to the shenanigans that often plagued the alliance base.

Zolah glanced up at the sound of engines. The Imperial ship lowered gracefully out of the cloud cover, still new enough to shine in the early morning sun. A sudden chill ripped across the platform, and Zolah shivered involuntarily. Vector's arm slid around her shoulder, hand rubbing briskly to warm her. "Thank you," Zolah answered with a smile, watching as her breath smoked out before her. Winter had finally reached the valley floor, bringing with it a bitter cold that threatened to cling longer this year than normal.

A chime from Zolah's proximity implants alerted her to the commander's approach. She waited for Fynta to lean her elbows against the railing, then sighed. "I thought we'd agreed that I should handle this introduction?" Jorgan stood to the other side of Fynta, arms crossed and looking grimmer than ever with the eye patch. Zolah had seen his report and her internal sniper grimaced at the thought of losing her eyesight. Had their situations been reversed, Zolah would have already set up a cybernetic replacement, but Jorgan appeared adverse to that option.

Vector dropped his hands but didn't step away, offering their guests a cordial greeting. Zolah had moved beyond such platitudes and let her irritation bleed through. The man that Acina had sent to help them with logistics was an Imperial patriot. He likely wouldn't approve of Fynta's attitude about most of what they tried to accomplish in the fight against Zakuul.

"We got curious," Fynta answered with a shrug, her gaze fixed on the incoming vessel. An appreciative whistle sliced through the thin air when the landing gear appeared. "Nice ship."

Zolah shoved the irritation working up her spine back down. If she were lucky, Acina would have prepared her envoy for his first meeting with Fynta Wolfe. Though, Zolah wouldn't be surprised if the woman sent him in blind just to see what happened. As the landing ramp lowered, Zolah forced calm into her voice. "Might I suggest letting Vector handle initial introductions? This man is an Imperial War hero." She turned a hard gaze on Fynta. "We both know how well your last interaction with one of those went."

Fynta blinked, then her eyes widened. "He shot first."

Though the women had never discussed it in detail outside of that altercation on Rishi, a little snooping had given Fynta enough information to work out Zolah's relationship with General Rakton. Vector had admitted to filling in any gaps, stating that it was time that they moved past their differences for the betterment of all. It had taken Zolah almost a week to forgive him, even longer to confess that he'd been right. Still, the loss of her adoptive father still stung even after all these years. Working with the woman who pulled the trigger, more so.

Raising her hands, Fynta straightened. "I'll behave. Promise." Jorgan snorted from behind her, but didn't add to the conversation.

"He's here," Vector interrupted before Zolah could snap back. Lengthening her spine, she ignored the commander in favor of presenting a united front. Rakton was gone, had been for years, and Zolah had lost her chance for revenge on Manaan. She released the argument with an exhale and readied to meet Acina's emissary.

Fynta broke the silence first, muttering into the cold between her and Zolah. "He looks like a barrel of laughs."

The man who descended the ramp walked with the poise of Imperial breeding. His posture hinted at a lifetime of military service, sharp eyes scanning his surrounding with an efficiency that made the agent in Zolah proud. He wore a perfectly tailored uniform, and the high cheekbones and superior aura like a badge of honor. This man would stick out in their ragtag Alliance like a Mandalorian on the Dark Council. Zolah couldn't decide if that would make matters better or worse.

Zolah pitched her voice to a matching octave. "He is the Empress's best analyst. We need his help. Do not test him."

Fynta huffed a barely audible laugh while Vector stepped forward to greet their guest. "Major Quinn, welcome to the Alliance. We are Vector Hyllus, the chosen representative with the Empire."

Quinn hesitated briefly, no doubt put off by Vector's alien eyes and the melodic way of speaking. He recovered well, accepting the proffered hand before letting his scrutiny fall on the rest. Chiss must not have been much of an oddity to him, as Quinn's gaze shifted across Zolah with a nod of acknowledgment, before settling on Fynta. There was some slight widening of the eyes when it came to Jorgan, but again, nothing the average person would have picked up on.

"Commander Wolfe." Zolah didn't believe it was possible for the man's spine to straighten more. His shoulders squared, assuming a respectful stance in the presence of a superior officer without offering the Imperial salute. "I am Major Malavai Quinn, on retainer to you from Empress Acina of the Sith Empire. I have a full dossier of my qualifications prepared for your review if desired."

"At ease, Major," Fynta responded, though the position Quinn fell into looked no less relaxed. Zolah couldn't help but wonder how much of this was his training, and how much of it was Acina warning him to play nice. According to Lana, the Sith Empress actually liked Fynta.

Seconds ticked by while Fynta examined her newest soldier. It annoyed Zolah that the woman could slip into this facade of military precision so effortlessly, while acting like an utter fool the rest of the time. At last, Fynta nodded her approval. "As Mr. Hyllus said, welcome to the Alliance. I'd like you to meet my lead analyst, Zolah Holran. She'll be conducting your tour and has the full backing of my authority."

It took effort not to openly sneer at Fynta's final words. Damn that woman. "Thank you, Commander." She might have added too much emphasis on the title, but couldn't be bothered to correct it. "Major, I have reviewed your file in detail and look forward to your ideas on streamlining our inventory. Perhaps we should all move indoors, the weather is set to get worse as the day progresses." Not to mention, she'd been standing outside for nearly an hour already. Her fingers had gone numb long ago, despite the gloves, and her toes were well on their way.

"You kids have fun." Fynta slapped the major on the shoulder, and Zolah nearly laughed at the startled look on his face. That was the infuriating woman that she'd expected to see. Fynta offered Zolah a curt nod as she began backing away from the group. "I have a family issue to attend to. Give me a ring if you need anything. Major, once you're settled in, we'll grab a couple of beers and get to know one another." She leaned around the group to smile at Vector, never breaking stride. "See you on the mats later?"

"Of course." Vector tipped his head, the corners of his mouth turning up. Zolah had always known that Vector was a warrior, though she'd forgotten from time to time while they languished in administrative tasks. She reminded herself to visit one of his and Fynta's sparring matches, if only to see that light in his eyes that so many spoke of.

When Fynta and Jorgan had vanished inside, Quinn cleared his throat. "The commander is...not what I expected." His brows knit, guiding Zolah's attention to the strips of grey creeping up the hair in front of his ears.

"You get used to her," Zolah answered, turning to set a brisk pace toward the hangar where the promise of heat made her fingers tingle.

Quinn fell in step on her right while Vector took up post on the left. Neither man struggled to keep up. "Do you really?" Quinn asked with the first hint of personality.

Zolah allowed herself a smirk and tapped in the access code as they crossed under the droids guarding the main entranceway. "No. Not at all." Vector hummed a laugh at Zolah's side while Quinn expelled a breath that might have been the beginnings of a chuckle.

Warmth wrapped Zolah in a blanket of pinpricks while her skin acclimated. She shivered, closing her eyes briefly to savor the heat, then retrieved her datapad to begin Quinn's introduction. It had been decided that he should understand the full scope of what they faced if there was to be any hope of saving the Alliance from its own consumption needs. Nothing left unmentioned.

"Fynta Wolfe is Republic SpecForce, the former commanding officer of Havoc Squad." Quinn's posture went rigid, even as they walked, and Zolah took that to mean that he knew the name.

Zolah's suspicions were confirmed when he cleared his throat. "The same Havoc Squad who took the Bastian on Corellia?" Quinn's question made Zolah stop. That had been the battle where her father had died, along with hundreds of others. The next few seconds would determine whether Major Quinn had wasted a week of travel time. As much as Zolah hated it, they needed Fynta alive. The Alliance couldn't afford an assassination of their figurehead now.

Quinn recognized Zolah's reaction and carried on before her suspicions could grow. "I had a...colleague involved in the initial capture of the Bastian. He was incensed when he'd learned that the Republic had retaken it with so little resistance. A Lieutenant Pierce. I believe he has been promoted since then."

"We lost a lot of men that day," Zolah answered with a sharper edge to her tone than she'd intended. "Including a great strategist. But, yes, Pierce is here. He was a part of Fynta's strike team for a while, now he co-commands with another Republic officer."

"Here?" Quinn looked around, a strange set to his jaw. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Apologies for the interruption, please, carry on."

Zolah began walking again, threading her explanations of their cause and needs with locations of importance as they passed. "The Cathar that you saw on the landing deck is the commander's husband, they have adopted a Nautolan daughter, as well. You'll find that the Alliance is not run like the Empire, Major. There are Republic, Mandalorian, and Outer Rim dwellers here. We maintain a loose grip on discipline, and very few bend beneath a stern hand. Should a grievance arise, speak with Vector. He has a team suited to mediation."

As if speaking Vector's name had reminded him of a task, he took Zolah's arm and guided her to a stop. "We must depart here." He kissed her cheek, adding an almost imperceptible vocalization to it that Zolah's implants had been programmed to detect. It was a request for later, one that she answered with a smile. Vector turned his black eyes on Quinn. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Major. If you should want for anything, we are at your disposal."

When Vector had gone, Quinn's curiosity boiled over. "Mr. Hyllus is your—"

"Husband," Zolah answered, and found that the claim came easily. There were no threats to them in the Alliance. No danger that Vector might be tortured simply because of his connection to her, by friend or foe. It lifted a weight that Zolah hadn't known that she carried. She considered mentioning Theron, but decided that bit wasn't of any strategic importance to the major. Best to let him acclimate before admitting to being in a relationship with a Republic spy. "This way, if you please."

Zolah guided Quinn towards the main information hub. The man's file was impressive, and she wanted to pick his brain about other matters before sentencing him to the drudgery of ration numbers. When they turned the corner into the darkened room, Quinn cleared his throat. It appeared to be a habit when he wanted to speak, but struggled to find the appropriate words. "If I may ask, you are clearly not of Republic birth. Why would the commander trust all of her sensitive intelligence to a former Imperial agent?"

The moniker stung, but Zolah let it slide. She'd left the agency with Lana, giving up her title as a Cipher. Zolah leaned against a vacant console and folded her arms. "Fynta and I met years ago. I was known as Cipher Nine, back then. Through Lana and Theron, we found common enough ground to defeat Revan, but not before he unleashed Vitiate's soul on the galaxy. Or, so we thought. As it happens, our beloved emperor never died, he'd only switched his attention elsewhere."

"The Eternal Empire, yes." Quinn stroked his chin. It was the most animation she'd seen from the man since his arrival. "I would like to speak with Lord Beniko when she's available. I carry a message from the Empress."

"Get in line," Zolah answered. Before Quinn could beg her pardon—he seemed the type—she gestured to the line of images that hovered behind her. "Lana led an extraction team that responded to an SOS nearly two weeks ago. Her team went dark shortly after."

Quinn walked the line of holos, asking about locations and known factors as he studied each one. He stopped towards the end of the line, voice trailing off mid-sentence. "Is this...Darth Kozen?"

A piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Quinn's file stated that he'd worked with Sith for a number of years, but didn't specify who. Now, calling Pierce a colleague made more sense. "It is," Zolah answered, dialed in on the man's reactions. "He was a part of the rescue team. You've had dealings with him before?"

"I have." Quinn didn't clarify, but judging by the way his mouth twisted when he reached Kaeto's image, he knew her as well. It couldn't have been easy for a man like Quinn to watch his master risk everything to be with a Jedi. Zolah added another tick to her to-do list. She needed to learn more about his relationship with, and reasons for leaving, Kozen's service and crew. If they ever returned, Zolah would pick Vette's brain. The feisty little Twi'lek loved to gossip and Zolah got the impression that Quinn hadn't seen eye to eye with many of his companions aboard the Sith ship.

Quinn seemed to shake himself free of the past and faced Zolah. "I'll need access to all information available on their mission, as well as your comm frequencies." He removed the decorative gloves and tucked them neatly into their designated pocket before producing a datapad. "Shall we begin, Agent?"

Odessen
Alliance Base
Commander's Quarters
2300 Hours

Fynta lowered herself onto the top stair next to Aric. He'd been there for nearly an hour, staring at the steady rise and fall of Shillet's shoulders. She'd bedded down on the sofa until Fynta could figure out better accommodations, wrapped in a thin, army green blanket that blended with her skin tone.

Looping her arm through Aric's, Fynta leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled when he sighed. She hadn't heard such a contented sound out of him since that night on Zakuul when they'd decided to make this marriage work. There was a tenseness to him still, though, one that hadn't existed before Shillet arrived.

"She's safe, riduur," Fynta whispered, giving him a gentle shake.

"Yeah." Aric's hand covered hers. "Just hard to believe that it's finally over." It wasn't, of course, but the small victory boosted morale, even if it wouldn't last.

They sat in silence until Aric sighed. "Any news on Elara?"

"No suppression chamber. The Republic and Empire know where we are, trackers are a nonthreat. There wasn't any doubt where she was going anyway." A smirk curled Fynta's lips. "Cormac seemed in good spirits."

"I'll bet." Aric huffed a laugh that turned into a yawn, then patted Fynta's hand again. "Go to bed, I'll be there in a minute."

Fynta started to protest, then decided to give Aric the time he needed to adjust. She'd excused herself to the cantina earlier in the day while he gave Shillet a tour of the base. The girl was angry, much like Fynta at that age. The best thing that Verin had done for Fynta had been to let her go when she announced her decision to join the military. If he'd forced her to accept his life, she'd likely have found an early grave and would have missed out on so many important things.

With a quick peck to Aric's cheek, Fynta stood. She stopped before climbing into bed to look back. Aric had descended the stairs and was bent over Shillet, tucking the blanket around her before pressing a kiss to her forehead. It was a strange moment, surreal even, to see him in a role that she'd never imagined they would experience. Aric was a father, but Fynta didn't know if that made her a mother.

Leaving Aric to his task, Fynta stretched across the bed on her stomach to catch up on reports from her time away. The mattress dipped as Aric settled against her back. His elbows kept the brunt of his weight off her torso, and Fynta tipped her head when his lips brushed the side of her neck. She felt his hips move against her ass and peeked over her shoulder with a grin. "What are you up to?"

A low growl answered Fynta's question as Aric pushed her loose hair aside to offer him better access. She sighed, letting the datapad slide over the edge of the bed while he ran the rough side of his tongue across her sensitive skin. Fynta felt his breath against her ear when he whispered. "What would you say if I asked you to run away with me?"

Fynta tensed, the wrong reaction she knew, but out of her control. Aric sighed, nuzzled against her hair, then slid onto his side of the bed. Fynta pushed onto her knees to find her husband's attention focused on the far wall. "Aric." His jaw flexed, but he didn't look at her.

"Riduur?" When Aric still didn't comply, Fynta crawled on top of him, her knees to either side of his stomach. "You know why I can't."

Finally, glacial eyes turned in Fynta's direction. "There's a war that needs fighting," Aric answered, though she heard the betrayal in his voice. She didn't blame him for wanting to pack up his remaining family members and head for parts unknown. Anything had to be better than the constant worry she saw dragging at him every day.

Fynta leaned forward until her face was close to Aric's. She placed a kiss on the flat bridge of his nose and lowered her voice. "He's still in my head. Somehow, the chakaar left a piece of himself behind, I can feel it."

Aric's hands settled on Fynta's calves, fingers tight. Fynta shook her head, maintaining proximity. "At least here, if I go wrong, you've got back up. There are plenty who would put a bolt through me so that you wouldn't have to." His nails pricked her skin, jaw locked and eyes flashing with anger. Fynta pressed another kiss to his jaw to take the harshness from her words. "I can't guarantee your safety out there."

"I—" Aric swallowed, his fingers relaxing when one hand lifted to tangle in Fytna's hair. "I can't lose you again. Either of you."

Before Fynta could offer a meaningless platitude, Aric jerked her into a kiss. His tongue brushed past her lips, swallowing her startled gasp. Fynta felt Aric's emotions through that connection, the desperation and need, that protective drive that would send him into a spiraling psychosis if he lost one more person.

Pressing closure, Fynta's hands slid behind Aric's neck, holding their bodies flush so that he knew she was with him. While Fynta couldn't promise tomorrow, she would make the most of every second they had together, and do everything in her power to protect his daughter. Aric answered with a rumble that Fynta felt instead of heard.

Carefully, Fynta slid a hand between them, adjusting clothing until she'd bared enough to meet her goal. A moan slipped through her lips when Aric tugged her lip between his teeth and he pulled back. "Going to have to be quiet." His voice husked through the darkness, barely audible. Fynta nodded and lifted her hips while he reached down to position himself.

When Fynta lowered to meet him, she caught the flash of teeth as Aric released a silent growl. His hands gripped her hips, rolling them in a rhythm that worked without him withdrawing. Aric shifted into a sitting position, holding Fynta in his lap while they rocked together. Heat curled through her, rolling in waves from her belly out to her fingers and toes. Their breaths mingled as one in a blissful moment of peace. There were no early morning meetings, battles to be fought, or undead emperors to kill. Only Aric and Fynta, united in a single purpose.

Aric gasped Fynta's name, pinning her hips while he continued with sharp, shallow thrusts. She shattered when his teeth grazed her collar bone, biting down on the curse before it could explode from her lips. Aric's tongue soothed the area he'd muffled his own cry into, chest heaving against hers.

Fynta was panting and sweaty when Aric leaned back, pulling her down with him. He tucked her head beneath his chin and nuzzled into her hair. Fynta felt his muscles relax on the exhale. She laid with him for several minutes in silence, listening to the sound of his heartbeat returning to normal.

Finally, Fynta lifted her head. "I'm going to fix this." Aric's lips pressed into a thin line, but she couldn't leave their conversation where it had ended. "After I kill Valkorion, no more fighting." Even in the darkness, Fynta could see his raised brow bone in the widening of one eye. She grinned. "Yeah, okay. No more war."

With a chuckle, Aric's arms tightened around Fynta. "I'm going to hold you to that."