Epilogue
Sunlight filtered through the new leaves overhead as Dravic walked beside Adira through the forest.
Spring had changed to summer since he had found her in Driochmor and brought her home, and with each passing month, he had come to understand more of what his mother had tried to teach him as a child.
He noticed things now that he once would have walked past without a thought.
Adira stopped.
Dravic shook his head. “You will tire yourself and the bairn if you keep bending as much as you’ve been since entering the forest.”
She ignored him and carefully lowered herself beside a tiny sprout struggling through the forest floor.
“Adira,” he said again when she ignored him.
“I heard you,” she said sweetly.
“I know you heard me. That has made ignoring me much easier for you.”
She smiled and touched one finger gently to the small plant.
Dravic watched. He had seen her do this countless times now, yet it still fascinated him. The thin stem straightened beneath her touch. Its drooping leaves lifted, slowly at first, then strengthened until the small plant stood firmly on its own.
Adira removed her finger. She never gave it more than it needed. That was one of the first things she had learned about her power. She did not force life where it could not survive on its own. She simply gave what was weak enough strength to continue.
Adira went to push herself to stand and her husband’s arm was immediately around her waist, helping her easily to her feet.
She smiled and placed a delicate kiss on his lips.
“You think to distract me.”
“From what?” she asked all too innocently.
“From you spending endless time in the forest. You need rest.”
“I rested after breakfast,” she reminded.
“That was hours ago.”
“Just a bit more, then we will return to the castle,” Adira said and continued walking.
Dravic shook his head and followed her.
The years ahead would not be easy. He knew that.
There would always be those who coveted what Adira possessed.
Men who would seek her healing for themselves.
Others who would fear it. And inevitably there would be those who believed controlling the woman who could defy death would give them power over life itself.
They would learn differently.
He would keep her safe. Though perhaps keep was no longer the right word. Adira had proven quite capable of keeping herself safe.
And Dravic was beginning to discover that magic was not as foreign to him as he had once believed.
His mother’s blood ran through him. The Northland’s magic was different from Adira’s, quieter and bound to the earth, the seasons, the animals, the signs nature offered to those willing to notice them.
Things his mother had taught him as a child were returning little by little. With Adira’s guidance, he knew they would grow stronger.
He suddenly stopped.
Adira had wandered several steps ahead of him.
“That is far enough,” he ordered.
She nodded but continued walking.
Dravic shook his head. His wife may have found her voice, but there were times she reverted to gestures, mostly when she ignored his commands.
A few steps toward her and he heard what she had heard, frantic fluttering.
Dravic saw the bird on the ground at nearly the same moment his wife did. One wing lay awkwardly beside its small body while another bird fluttered anxiously nearby, darting toward its injured mate and then away again.
Adira approached slowly.
The uninjured bird grew more agitated.
“Careful,” Dravic warned, staying close enough to intervene if necessary.
Adira nodded once again and crouched beside the injured bird.
The other bird continued its frantic movements until Adira began speaking softly.
“There now. I won’t hurt your mate.”
Dravic watched as the bird settled.
Adira extended her hands slowly. The injured bird made no attempt to escape when she gently lifted it and cupped it between her palms.
She whispered to it, her words too soft for Dravic to hear.
A faint shimmer appeared between her fingers for a few moments, then vanished. She opened her hands. For a heartbeat, the bird remained there. Then it spread both wings and with one quick flutter, it took flight.
Its mate immediately followed. Together they disappeared among the trees.
“Well, isn’t that sweet.”
Dravic groaned as a familiar golden light shot past his shoulder.
Fiora hovered beside him.
“You,” Dravic said as if accusing her of something.
“Were you expecting another fairy?”
“I was hoping you had found someone else to annoy.”
“I have. Tharne.”
Dravic almost smiled. “Then you have finally found a worthwhile purpose.”
Fiora planted her hands on her hips. “He says worse things about you.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
“He also says you remain an arrogant arse.”
“And yet he sits on my council and decides to return home to Driochmor permanently.”
“But he still has ties to Drogath, appointing the next warlord of his choice,” Fiora reminded.
“He may command there but here I am king and I command.”
Fiora grinned. “And complain.”
“I do not complain. I issue reasonable observations.”
“You issue orders.”
“As a king is duty-bound to do,” Dravic argued.
“And I am a fairy—”
“Duty bound to obey her king.”
She laughed. “You can be hilarious at times.”
“Watch your tongue with me, Fiora,” he warned.
She flew directly in front of his face. “Admit it to me. You missed sparing with me when I was gone.”
“I enjoyed every peaceful moment.”
“You worried about me,” she said, continuing to laugh.
“I wondered if you finally got what you deserved… a good swat.”
Fiora gasped dramatically. “Adira! Did you hear what your husband—”
A sharp gasp stopped her.
Dravic turned instantly.
Adira stood several feet away, one hand pressed to the underside of her rounded stomach.
He was beside her before Fiora could move. “What is wrong?”
Adira took a breath.
“Are you hurt?”
“Nay.”
“What is it?”
Another sensation caught her, and her hand went to his arm.
Dravic’s heart began pounding. “Adira?”
She looked up at him. “It is time.”
He stared at her, the words yet to sink in.
“The bairns are ready.”
Dravic froze. Then his brow drew together. “Bairns?”
Adira smiled.
Dravic stared at her stomach and then at her. “What do you mean, bairns?”
Fiora burst out laughing.
Dravic shot her a murderous glare as he scooped Adira up into his arms. “Not one word from you.”
Fiora continued to laugh.
“No laughter either,” he ordered.
Her laughter followed them through the forest as Dravic hurried toward the castle, carrying his smiling wife in his arms.
Dravic stood beside the cradle staring down at his children.
His children… two of them.
Even after hours of knowing they were here, the thought still filled him with an emotion so powerful he could barely grasp it.
His son slept on one side of the cradle with one tiny fist tucked near his face. His daughter lay beside him, equally peaceful, completely unaware that their arrival had turned the King of Scotara’s world upside down.
Adira had not birthed one bairn but two and one of each, a son and a daughter.
He had spent most of his life knowing it was his duty to produce an heir. The continuation of his bloodline had been discussed with him from the time he was old enough to understand what it meant to be king.
Never once had anyone told him what it would feel like to look upon his newborn child, and he had two to amaze at. His heart swelled as he looked at them.
He turned then to glance toward the bed. Adira sat propped comfortably against the pillows, chatting with Faith as though bringing two bairns into the world had been of little consequence.
Tharne stood beside his wife, while Kaelan and Bria remained near the foot of the bed. They had delayed their journey to the Northland when it became obvious Adira’s time was drawing near, refusing to leave until the bairn arrived.
Bairns.
Dravic still could not believe she had neglected to mention that particular detail. He was simply grateful she was well.
The hours of labor had nearly done him in.
He had faced armies with less fear than he’d felt listening to his wife labor to bring their children into the world.
There had been nothing he could do. No enemy to fight.
No order he could issue that would end her pain.
And Adira had endured it with a strength that humbled him.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?”
Dravic groaned before turning his head.
Fiora hovered beside his shoulder, staring down at the twins.
“They are,” he agreed with pride.
Fiora grinned. “Something we finally agree upon.”
“Do not get accustomed to it,” he cautioned in his usual authoritarian tone.
She laughed lightly and turned her attention back to the cradle.
After a moment, she said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be around to help you with them.”
“I—”
“And don’t bother telling me you won’t need the help.”
Dravic looked down at his son and daughter, then he looked at Fiora. “I will need the help.”
Fiora’s mouth fell open. “Did the King of Scotara just admit he needs a fairy?”
“I admitted nothing of the sort.”
“You just said—”
“I said I will need help. I did not say it had to come from you.”
Fiora laughed. “Too late. I heard you.”
“So did I,” Adira called from the bed.
Dravic turned toward her to see her smiling, then she yawned. That was enough.
“Everyone out,” he ordered.
Tharne looked at him. “You do remember she is my daughter.”
“And you remember she is my wife who just gave birth to twins. She needs rest.”
“I am fine,” Adira said, though another yawn provided proof of her husband’s words.
Dravic turned a smug smile on her.
Bria tugged at her husband’s hand to follow her. “He’s right. You should sleep.”
Kaelan followed, though not before congratulating the new parents one more time. “Much luck and joy.”
Faith kissed her daughter and then went to the cradle, bending to kiss each of her grandchildren.
Tharne followed her, pausing beside Dravic. “You best take good care of them.”
“I don’t need to be cautioned about keeping my family safe. I will always make sure of that.”
Tharne looked like he was about to say more, but a warning glare from Dravic had the warlord simply nodding.
Fiora was the only one who remained and Dravic sent that same glare on her.
“I’m going. I’m going.” She flew over to the cradle, hovered above the sleeping twins, and whispered, “Don’t worry. I will teach you both how to annoy your da.”
“Out!” Dravic ordered.
Her laughter followed her through the door.
Finally, there was silence.
Dravic closed the door and returned to the cradle. He checked both bairns once more before approaching the bed.
Adira smiled as he sat beside her. “You chased everyone away.”
“You are tired.”
“You must be as well. The night grows late.”
“I did not give birth to twins,” he said, doubting she needed a reminder.
“Nay. You merely behaved as though you might not survive it.”
Dravic winced. “You were in pain. I could not stand it. And you failed to mention there were two.”
Adira’s smile widened. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“You succeeded.”
She laughed softly.
Dravic slipped his arm around her and carefully drew her against him so she could rest her head on his chest.
For a while, neither spoke.
Dravic held his wife close and cast a glance at the cradle where his bairns slept peacefully… his family.
There had been a time when the word meant little more than memories of people taken from him far too young. He had believed the crown and Scotara were all that remained for him.
He had been wrong.
Adira’s hand patted his chest. “Happy, my king?”
Dravic looked down at her. “More than I ever knew I could be.”
Her eyes softened.
He brushed a strand of her blond hair away from her face. “You changed everything.”
“Nay,” she said softly. “We changed everything.”
He smiled. “Aye. We did.”
Adira’s eyes began to drift closed.
Dravic kissed her brow. “Sleep. You need it.”
“You are ordering me again.”
“I am your king.”
Her eyes opened enough for him to see the amusement in them. “And I am your wife.”
“A far more troublesome position.”
She smiled and settled comfortably against him.
Dravic held her as sleep slipped over her. His gaze returned once more to the cradle.
He was a king with a kingdom to protect. A husband with a wife to love. And now a father with a son and daughter who both would know from their first breath what he had learned far too late—that neither duty nor power made a life worth living.
The only thing that did was… the magic of love.
The End