And there was Rygnar.
Always him now, whether I wanted to admit it or not.
“Now it’s not simple,” I said. “But simplicity is overrated anyway.”
He made a soft sound that might have been a laugh. “Your ankle?”
“Better,” I said. “Still reminds me when I’ve been on it too long, which is often.”
“I noticed.”
“Of course you did,” I muttered. Then, more quietly, “Thank you. For pretending you didn’t.”
He inclined his head, accepting that without fuss.
The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It had texture.
Below us, someone lit the first of the night lamps. Warm pools of light bloomed along the paths, one by one. The mountain’s heart kept humming, steady and low.
“If you go back,” he said at last, “you will not go alone.”
My fingers tightened on the railing. “You’d take me?”
“If that is what you choose,” he said. “Or I would send someone you trust. Or both. You were taken by raiders once. It will not happen again.”
There was no boast in it. No overconfidence. Just simple intent, backed by a man who had clearly made a habit of turning intent into reality.
“I haven’t decided yet,” I said. “About going back.”
“I know.”
“You’re very sure of what you know.”
“I have to be,” he said. “When you carry lives in your decisions, you cannot afford to be unsure of everything.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” I asked. “Carrying all of us?”
“Not alone,” he said. “But I won’t pretend my choices don’t weigh more than some.”
“Must be exhausting,” I murmured.
“Sometimes.” His gaze rested on me. “Today, less so.”
“Because the south beds liked my idea?” I teased.
“Because you are here,” he said quietly.
That stole whatever answer I might have had.
We stood there a while longer, watching the lamps come on, listening to the colony settle into its night rhythm. The world outside the basin felt very far away. Not gone. Never gone. But diminished in a way I hadn’t thought possible.
Maybe this isn’t forever, I thought. Maybe it doesn’t have to be. But for now, in this carved-out pocket of warm stone and stubborn life, it could be enough.
I let my hand rest on the railing a breath closer to his.
I didn’t reach for him. He didn’t reach for me.
Between us, the space felt less like distance and more like possibility.
