Oro
And for a second, everything went still. His problems simply disappeared with the sea-foam. His world became only green eyes and dark hair and red lips and a smile that never failed to force him to mirror it.
He was king of Lightlark. He wasn’t supposed to want anything, but damn him, he wanted her. He still wanted her.
Because he could not forget the months they fought, and bared their teeth at each other, and bared their souls, going through dangers that sanded down their edges and broke down their walls, and forced themselves to face each other without fear or armor.
She had seen him weak and vulnerable and strong. And he had seen her covered in her own vomit and sobbing and triumphant.
They had seen each other’s scars, and made new ones, but in the process, somehow, they had also healed themselves—and each other.
Life was cruel and hard and as edged as a blade, but she made him want to live it. Together. There was no one else he would rather face the end of the universe with.
He just wanted her back. Even if she chose Grim again, even if nothing had changed, he just wanted to be in a world with her in it.
They had everything Horus said they needed to build the portal. The tide pool. Cinder’s energy. The ring, with a shred of something alive from Skyshade. The name of the place itself.
Now . . . all they needed was Isla. She would finish the bridge between them.
She stood as he walked over, reaching for his hands. He held them tightly, as if he could hold on to her forever. His gaze swept over her, memorizing her every detail like it might be the last time he could.
“You’re still coming for me,” she said, her green eyes piercing his.
“Always.”
She sighed, looking out at the emerald green sea. “I wish this place was somewhere I could close my eyes and return to whenever I’m sad. Like I could keep it in my pocket.”
Oro smiled and squeezed her hands. “You can come here whenever you want. It’s yours.”
She turned to him with a sly smile. “No, it’s yours. Or did you forget that you’re king?”
He took a step closer until they were a breath apart and she had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze. Just like he did at the end of the Centennial, he took the crown from his head and placed it atop hers. “Everything I have is yours,” he said.
“Everything?”
He nodded.
“Even that cape?”
He made to undo it, and she gripped his wrists to stop him, laughing. “Gold isn’t my color,” she said casually.
His voice wasn’t casual at all as he said, “It was. Once.”
Isla’s expression turned serious as she looked out at the horizon.
He wondered if she was remembering the same moment he was.
When she had invited him to gild the dress she wore.
Her faith in him had let him conquer his fears, his trauma.
He had painted her gold, and he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
“I see it so clearly,” she said. “Our life together. If things. If . . .” She smiled, as if she was seeing it in her head.
“Isla. We have everything we need. But to get to you, we need your Wildling abilities. We need you to restore the bonds.” Her jaw set. Her eyes did not leave the sea. “I know you asked us not to come. Have you changed your mind?”
She was the missing piece. In the silence, his chest was clenched in panic. What if she still insisted on keeping them out? What if she was set on sacrificing herself?
Waves crashed upon their feet. A salty breeze wove through their hair.
Finally, she faced him and said, “I have. Tomorrow. Will you be ready?”
His relief nearly sent him to his knees. “Yes.” He wanted to hug her, realizing he could really be touching her in just a matter of hours. They could be together outside of their heads. But Isla’s expression turned heavy. “What is it?”
“I’m only bringing one of you,” she said.
Oro frowned. “But both of us—”
“Someone has to stay behind. You can’t both leave, since I’m already gone, too. What if—what if—”
What if something happened to all their people, were the words she didn’t say.
Oro closed his eyes tightly. He, more than anyone, understood her reasoning.
“Have you made your choice?” he asked when he finally opened his eyes.
“No,” she said, and he tasted sweetness. She was telling the truth.
He took a deep breath. Something in him, and in the way she said her words, made it feel like more than just a decision on who she thought could help her defeat Cronan. It seemed almost final.
“Then I guess, I hope to see you soon,” he said, before the dream washed away in a wave of salt-slick sea.