"Maybe," she conceded with a faint shrug. "Seems as though everyone knows who Marka is, though. There's bound to be someone who wants to send me back, or try to trade me." She shook her head. "The medic here dressed your wounds. They won't let me have my pack, so I haven't been able to help much."

"No one is sending you anywhere," Mahon said, with a tone of voice that said he was certain of that. "You have no love for your mother," he continued, more of a statement than a question. "Do you know how Marka has stayed in control for so long?" he asked her, wondering just how much she knew about what went on in valley.

"Dynastic bitchiness seems to be the general thrust of things," Ember shrugged. "I don't know the details. I haven't known what?s been going on in the valley for years. I guess being openly against Marka doesn't make me trustworthy, to either side." She managed a small smile. "It sounds like things are very organized back there, if you're ready to rise up in three months."

"Mmm," he murmured thoughtfully. "Marka uses fear to control people, but she's losing control. The time is right for an uprising. Nemone and Gia have gained support among some of the guards, and the slaves are ready to revolt. It won't be easy, but if we can gain support of the villagers, I think we can overthrow her once and for all," he told her, taking no credit for his part in the organization of the uprising, though he was obviously an important part of it.

"From what I understand, there will be plenty of support from the villages," Ember offered thoughtfully. "And there are only two exits from the valley. Every other pass was blocked decades ago." She chewed her lip, not liking the fact that she was betraying the valley, but knowing it was necessary. "I can show them the second escape route. With both blocked, there's nowhere to run."

"Ember," Mahon started, a serious look on his face, which didn't bode well for good news. "You should know that I don't relish killing, but if the slaves get their hands on Marka, it won't be pretty." He purposely referred to the woman by name and not as her mother. He wasn't sure if she had any love left for the woman who'd birthed her, but whether she did or not, she was still her flesh and blood.

She raised her eyes to his as he spoke, and for a moment, there was a flicker of the little girl she'd never really had a chance to be in her gaze. Marka had always been the disciplinarian, never one to offer praise or encouragement, always quick to criticize. But while she lived, there was always the chance - however remote - that the woman might actually be the mother Ember had never had. It was a painful thing, to admit that it would never happen. "I know," she nodded to Mahon, her expression not quite blank enough to hide the regretful pain for that inevitable conclusion. "I can't blame them for it."

"There is another option," he added. As much as he hated Marka, it seemed he had given this some thought, either with or without Nemone's input. He shifted a little as he tried to get comfortable. If they'd done anything for the pain, it was starting to wear off. They had stripped him of his bloody clothing and dressed him in a plain white cotton t-shirt, which thankfully covered the personal evidence of Marka's cruelty.

Suspicion rose in Ember's expression as he offered this up, though it was covered by concern for the discomfort he showed as he shifted. "What other option?" she asked warily, not entirely sure she wanted to know at all.

"Exile," he replied simply. It was the only way he could see Marka surviving the rebellion. If the villagers caught her, they'd more than likely put her on trial, and if the slaves caught her, they'd probably torture and kill her. Mahon thought he had two choices - either get to Marka first and kill her himself or send her away, never to return on threat of death. In the end, he felt it was up to Ember to choose her mother's fate.

"That's worse than death," Ember said quietly, looking down at her hands, folded against her knees. "She's spent years being looked after, being defended. I don't think she even knows how to hold a knife anymore." She bit her lip, sickened by herself for what she was about to say. "We're better than her. We don't torture, we aren't cruel for cruelty's sake. She has to die, but it should be quick and clean. Because we're not her."

"It's either that or imprisonment, but I'm afraid that might prove difficult, impossible even. There are too many people who want to see her dead." He sighed a moment. For years, he had savored the thought of killing Marka, of even displaying her head on a stake, but now he only wanted it to be finished and in the least cruel way possible. He couldn't ask Gia or Nemone or Ember to do it. He knew it was going to have to be him. "When the times comes, it will be quick. You have my word," he said, reaching over to cover her hand with his, as if that would reassure her somehow.

It took a long time for Ember to respond, finally lifting her eyes once again as her other hand covered his. "Thank you," she murmured to him. "And Nemone will be fine. She's tougher than people think, and ....she's got a lot to live for. So does Gia. I just hope Marka doesn't guess what?s happening before it's time, that's all."

Mahon frowned at the possibility of Marka figuring things out too soon. If she put two and two together and found out he had escaped, along with her daughter and Ethan, she might get suspicious, but he was fairly certain she trusted Nemone and Gia enough that she wouldn't suspect them directly. "With any luck, she'll think I used Nemone and betrayed her. That's the plan anyway."

She nodded slowly, understanding this. All her life, Gia and Nemone had been among Marka's inner circle, and despite their care for her, they had never been investigated for having similar beliefs. They were as safe as they could be. "How long have we been family, Mahon?" she asked suddenly, curious to know how long she had had something close to a brother so nearby and not even suspected it.

The frown deepened at the question. He had been aware of her all these years, through Nemone and Gia, but she had not been aware of him. She knew nothing of him, of his past, his family, how he'd ended up in the valley or what he'd suffered there, though his story wasn't so very different from Ethan's. There was no reason to keep any secrets from her any longer now that she was no longer under Marka's thumb. "Five years, more or less," he replied bluntly.

She took that in, a very faint smile on her face as she reflected that, if nothing else, he and Nemone had had five years together. It was more than most in the valley could ever hope for. "Look, I know you don't like me," she said quietly, "and I know you have no reason to trust me. But right now, you're all the family I've got. So ....I guess you're just gonna have to put up with me for a little bit, and if I'm that much trouble, there's always a chance I won't be around in about nine months anyway."

Mahon wisely bit his tongue against what he'd been about to say, reminding the man that he'd grown up in this village. He wasn't a traitor or a spy and neither were Ethan or Ember. "We've all suffered under Marka's rule. Ember, most of all," he pointed out. "I was a boy when I was captured. I'm not a boy any longer. I have earned the right to speak with the council. Fifteen years a slave has given me the right. I will speak with them, and they will listen."

The older man met his gaze calmly. "Twenty years a slave, and eighteen years free in the village where I was born," he said in a heavy tone. "And all I can do is request politely. I have not been allowed to address the council since my return. They are, understandably, wary of anyone who has lived in the valley."

Mahon clenched his jaw, eyes flashing with anger. Whatever good news he'd just received about his son was overshadowed by the news of the council's ignorance. "If they do nothing, they will continue to lose sons to Marka. And if they will not listen, I will appeal to the people and the militia. I will go to the next village and the next, until they all listen! We have three months to plan! And if no one will join me, I will go alone. I will lead the slaves in the rebellion, and we will have our freedom!" he said vehemently, passionately, clenching a fist in defiance, moving to rise up off the bed, before the wound in his side stopped him. His face paled as he sank back against the pillows, clutching his side painfully. There would be no facing the council today.

"And if you don't lie still, you will kill yourself," Uther pointed out, quicker to push Mahon back down onto the bed than Ember was. "It has been only a few hours since you were brought here. A day makes no difference." He grunted as Ember elbowed him out of the way, moving to peel back the bandage on Mahon's side.

She winced at the smell rising from the wound. "What did they put on this?" she wondered, truly appalled. "Uther ....I need my pack. The only weapons I had were what I held. I need the wooden box from my pack, with its contents intact."

Mahon could not not have answered that question even if he wanted to, as he had not been conscious when they had treated him, but even he knew the smell that was wafting from his mid-section was not a good one. Still, he didn't want to worry her or become a burden to anyone. He'd suffered worse. "I'll be fine, Ember. Just needs time to heal." He would have tugged his shirt down to prevent her from poking around except that she'd peeled back the bandage and even he knew it needed tending.

"Look, I may be completely useless in every other way, but I do know how to do this," Ember informed Mahon with a pointed look. She turned that look onto Uther, who was stifling a smirk. He knew that expression very well, though he hadn't seen it in almost twenty years. Gia had apparently taught her niece well.

"I will see what I can do," he promised them both, rising to his feet once again. "Be patient a little while longer. I do not think you will be left more than a day, if that."

Mahon grunted in response to both of them. Any amount of time behind a locked door was too much to him. Patience wasn't exactly his strong suit, but he didn't have much choice. His expression softened a little as he thought of his son. "When can I see him?" he asked, presuming Uther would know what he meant. It pained him to know his son would think him a stranger - Nem, too - but hopefully, they could remedy that in time.

Uther considered this as he stood. "Tonight," he said firmly. "Regardless of objections, I will bring him to you tonight. No one can object to a boy knowing his own father." He knocked on the door with a quiet sigh. "The pack should be returned to you within a few minutes," he added, nodding to Ember. "Keep him alive, Em. He has a lot to live for."

The girl nodded slowly, more concerned with keeping Mahon from beginning to rot through bad care than for the family he had to live for at this precise moment. "I will."

Mahon had nothing to say to that either, wondering if he was worse off than he'd thought. He had to admit he was feeling pretty bad, but he'd been wounded before, close to death even, and he'd always pulled through. He had no reason to believe he wouldn't pull through now. "He'll know his own mother, too," he pointed out, before the man could disappear behind that closed door again. Nem was his daughter, after all, and he wanted to give him some hope, if he could. Though he would never admit it, the big man had a soft heart beneath the gruff exterior. "You have to patch me up so I can see my boy," he told Ember.

As the door closed, locked once again by the unseen guard on the other side, Ember rolled her eyes, taking a closer look at the wound in Mahon's side. "This isn't too bad," she admitted thoughtfully. "It needs cleaning properly, though. This gack they've put on you is doing more harm than good. I wonder how many people they've lost because of it?" As she spoke, she was ripping a strip from her shirt to begin the process of removing the "gack" that coated what should have been a clean wound.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as she went about ripping a strip of cloth from her shirt. She had managed to get the bullet out and bandage the wound in the field, but now that they'd arrived in the village, didn't they have better supplies and medicines available to them' Not only that, but he wasn't looking forward to her poking at it again.

"I'm getting this stuff off before it does any more damage," she told him firmly. "Lie back, I can't get to it all with you sitting all hunched over. And yes, it's going to hurt until I get my pack back, but right now, just being clean will do more good than this ....whatever it is." She'd obviously learned her bedside manner from her aunt as well, that peculiar blend of cajoling and laying down the law that tended to work very well.

It seemed he at least knew better than to argue with her, though he was scowling up a storm. He slowly leaned back, biting back a wince as if it hurt just to move, which it more than likely did. "You probably saved my life back there," he reluctantly admitted. If she hadn't pulled out the bullet when she had and stitched him up, it was likely he might have bled out or worse, but it seemed all her hard work had gone for naught now. "I've had worse, you know," he added, just for good measure as if to assure her he could handle whatever pain she dished out.

"That's no reason for you to suffer now," she answered, grimacing as the waxy grease came off reluctantly from around his wound. She had a feeling she knew what it was, and the instinct to use it had been almost right, but for the fact that it was still an open wound. Her stitches were holding, thankfully, still intact. "Okay, this isn't as bad as it could be," she assured him. "Getting it cleaned up and the right salve on it should make all the difference." Her gaze flickered to his, trying to disguise the fact that she was endeavoring not to breathe through her nose, though even that wasn't helping her nausea. "You know Gia pretty well, don't you?"

He winced just a little as she worked the salve in, but remained as still as possible, not even flinching a little. Her story sounded familiar enough, though he couldn't imagine two people hating each other any more than he and Nemone had when they'd first met. The memory of it did bring a small smile to his face though, at least, until she mentioned that last part. "I'm sorry, you did what?"

"I knew it was coming," she tried to explain. "That I'd be mated to someone, whether I wanted it or not. I figured that if I broke myself in, that'd buy some time without the guy getting punished for not sleeping with me. Gia helped with that, too, but she wasn't happy about it."

That was one thing he hadn't had to worry about with Nemone. Whether they loved or hated each other in the beginning, neither had had any problem agreeing to sleep with each other, if only to save themselves from punishment. He grunted in reply, but it was more in amusement at a particular memory than anything else. "Nem hated me at first and made no secret of telling me so."

Ember snorted with laughter, shifting to pull off the jacket and the shirt beneath, leaving her tank in place. The shirt was already ripped - she was going to use it to wipe her hands clean before selecting the next salve. This one was a little different to the one she had used on Ethan; it would target the deeper tissue damage, but there was also a natural antiseptic that would hopefully keep the wound clean. "Nem's never been shy about making her voice heard," she agreed in amusement. "How'd you win her over?"

And neither had he, so it seemed. He shrugged out of habit, though it hurt a little to do so. It wasn't just the bullet wound that was bothering him, though that was the worst of it. There was a nasty cut across one cheek, and his body was riddled with numerous cuts and bruises, but nothing that wouldn't heal in time. "We won each other over, I think. Realized we were a lot alike and better together than apart. It just happened, I guess. She took a big chance patching me up after Marka did her worst. And then, there was the baby..." He trailed off at the mention of his son, once again. "What am I supposed to do' I haven't seen him since he was born. He doesn't even know me. I'm nothing more than a stranger to him."

Ember smiled faintly. "He's not even two years old yet, Mahon," she reminded him. "In a few months, he won't even remember a time when he didn't have his daddy with him. Children are easy like that." Her smile warmed as she spoke. "And by then, he'll have his momma too, won't he?"

Mahon looked away, turning quiet as the conversation turned once again to that of his and Nemone's son. Their son, their boy - Marka's own flesh and blood that she would have gladly let die just because he was born male, if not for Gia and Uther. "He will," he replied quietly, not wanting her to see the feelings he tried so hard to keep buried and hidden from everyone from Nem. "I don't know anything about children. What am I supposed to say to him' What am I supposed to do?" he asked, turning back to her, his expression betraying his uncertainty, his fear even.

"Well, I don't know anything about them, either," she pointed out comically, watching as the redness in his flesh faded, satisfied that the worst of his wounds was at least under control now. "I think all you can do is be yourself. Love them, and give them boundaries, teach them. All we really want is family, isn't it?"

"Family and to live a peaceful life," he replied, though he wasn't quite sure it was all that simple. Once they sorted out the valley, there were the mutants to worry about, but one thing at a time, he supposed. "I've been so full of anger and hatred for so long, I'm not sure there's any room left for anything else." That wasn't quite true, as he obviously adored Nemone. Maybe all he was afraid of was simply being a good father, like every father who'd ever lived before him.

"There's gotta be room, or you wouldn't be able to feel it," Ember argued quietly. "You can't feel hate without knowing love, you can't express anger without knowing peace. Everything has two sides to it. All you gotta do is flip them over." It sounded so simple, put like that, but they both knew it was anything but.

"Maybe," he said, either not wanting to admit he was wrong or simply afraid to hope. Either way, he was going to be meeting his young son later that night, and for a man who thought nothing of facing mutants, the thought of meeting that little boy for the first time scared the hell out of him. "Gia is proud of you, you know. Nem, too. You were brave back there. We wouldn't have escaped without you."

"We wouldn't have gotten anywhere without you, or them," she countered, clearly finding it difficult to accept any kind of praise. She shook her head, smiling gently as she began the process of re-doing his bandage. "That shouldn't hurt so much anymore. I'll take a look at your cheek when this is covered again."

He shrugged, just as stubborn when it came to praise. He'd done what he'd had to do - nothing more, nothing less. "I'm a soldier. You're not. You did good back there. Especially with the mutants." Arching a brow, he touched one side of his face. "My cheek?" he asked, as if he didn't realize he'd been cut there.

"I'm a soldier, too," Ember told him, laughing a little at the assumption that she was not. "I was trained from when I was five years old. But hardly anyone remembers that now - I've been out of sight for so long, I'm surprised anyone in the valley even remembers that Marka has a daughter at all." She gently nudged his hand away from the cut on his cheek. "It's been cleaned up, I just want to coat it with something, that's all."

"Being trained and actually fighting are two different things, but I stand corrected," he admitted, not really wanting to argue about it. He dropped his hand from his face, allowing her to do whatever it was she needed to do. "I don't enjoy killing," he added with a small frown. "Sometimes it's necessary, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it." He hadn't enjoyed killing the guards or the mutants, but he hadn't had much choice. Sometimes it was kill or be killed, and he'd had Ember and Ethan to protect.

Inspecting the cut on his cheek, there was a dangerous moment when he mentioned killing. She'd managed to avoid thinking about the two she had killed last night until now, but it was impossible not to remember in the light of day. "I-I've never killed anyone before," she admitted in a whisper, her hand falling away as she diverted herself with fiddling in the box on her lap. "I wish I could say that still."

"It's part of being a soldier, Ember. If you hadn't killed them first, they would have killed you....or Ethan. You didn't have any choice," he told her, sensing she was feeling guilty for the blood she had spilled. And that was the difference between the two of them, he thought. She might have been trained as a soldier, but until she faced her first battle, it was all just training. "Not everyone is made for battle. There's no shame in it. Do you know, I always wanted to be a farmer."

Her fingers shook just a little as she broke the seal on a delicately scented pot, revealing something that looked a little greasy but wouldn't feel so. "I can imagine that," she nodded, grateful for the slide into a different subject. "You might have a bit of a fight getting Nem to settle down as a farmer's wife, though." She grinned at the thought of that argument.

"I should have known that," Ethan remarked with a self-critical frown, not having put two and two together, and yet he could be forgiven such a thing, having only just met Mahon a few days ago in the middle of their escape attempt. He certainly had known of Uther, if not known him personally, but he had never made the connection between the grandson and the big man who'd aided in their escape. Of the three of them, Ethan had spent the least amount of time in the valley and felt almost like an outsider when compared to the other two. And yet, there was some irony in the fact that Ethan had been born in the valley and abandoned, to be found and raised in the village, just as Mahon's son had been. "I wish I'd known my parents, but maybe it's better this way." After all, he had never lacked for love, affection, and support, the man and woman who'd taken him in accepting him like he was their own son.

"How could you have known?" she asked him quietly, moving to open the medicine box once again. She wasn't happy with the bump on his forehead at all. "Unless Uther and his son were a close part of your life before you were taken, there's no reason for you to have put the equation together." She swallowed whatever she might have said about his upbringing, envying him the loving parents who had chosen to raise him. "Come here, let me look at you."

"It's not right, the way they throw away lives like they mean nothing, just because we're born male. It's not our fault what happened before. We weren't even alive then," he said, putting voice to the thoughts that had been troubling his mind for years. He had been discarded like so much garbage, thankfully, to be found by a family who'd loved him like their own. He couldn't know what Mahon was feeling exactly, but he wondered if his own birth parents had ever wondered such things. He stepped toward her, a little lost in thought, though it mattered little. He had another father who had wept tears of joy to see his son again, and he was the only father that mattered. "My father....He wants to meet you."

Ember held her peace as he spoke, feeling the guilt for the actions of her mother and grandmothers acutely. They were responsible for so many deaths, so much suffering, and though Ethan hadn't expressed such an opinion before, she should have known it was coming. Outside the valley, she was the most immediate example of the regime that caused so much pain. Swallowing as she delicately smeared yet another ointment onto the colorful bump that decorated his forehead, she hesitated as he mentioned his father. "Why?" she asked softly, uncertain what the intention could possibly be behind meeting her.

Ethan blinked out of his thoughts, as if just remembering she was there, though he had certainly meant that last statement for her. He looked a little confused by her question, as though the answer should be obvious. There were so many ways he could answer. Because of who you are....Because you hold the key to victory in the valley... But in the end, he replied with the most honest answer he could give, and perhaps the one she needed to hear most. "Because I love you."

The clear honesty in his expression very nearly made her cry, her head ducking quickly to hide the sudden surge of wetness in her eyes as she wiped her hand clean once again. She really had to use some of the borlis root soon; having an excuse for being so emotional and so wet would be better than having to admit that she was always like this. "And he doesn't mind that?" she asked Ethan, taking a deep breath as she met his gaze. "I-I'm not causing trouble or anything?"

There was that look again of confusion and bewilderment. It had never occurred to him that she would not be accepted here or welcomed with open arms, though now that they'd arrived, he understood her fears and reservations. There were those on the council who wanted to make an example of her, but once Ethan had explained the situation and told of her own suffering, those voices had been silenced. "Why would he mind that' None of this is your fault, Ember." He reached for her hands again, needing her to understand something. "You're free now....Or will be soon, once they realize you are as much a victim as I am, as Mahon was, as anyone who's suffered under Marka's rule."

She gripped his hands, leaning into him. It seemed a lifetime ago that they had been alone together, and yet it had only been a few hours. "I'm scared," she admitted, as quietly as she could. "I'm really scared, Ethan. No one here has any reason to trust me, and being Marka's daughter doesn't help. I don't want you to get into trouble because of me. You already got hurt because of me, I don't want it to happen again."

"I'm not going to get into trouble because of you, Ember. What are you thinking" My father isn't a monster, and it might take the villagers a little while to accept you, but they will, given time." He brushed his fingers against her cheek, pushing some blond hair away from her face. "Remember when we first met' Remember how angry I was" How much I didn't trust you? But that was before I understood the truth, before I got to know you. Before I fell in love with you."

"I can't help feeling afraid," she confessed softly. "I know it's stupid, but it's all tied up with who I am and how I was raised, and knowing that she's so hated, and not knowing if I'm really pregnant or just reacting really badly to everything that's happening, and now I'm babbling and I don't think I know how to stop ..."

"There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm not going to let anyone..." He trailed off, as she continued, something she'd said startling him and throwing him off guard. He certainly knew how to stop her from babbling, if he wasn't so stuck on that one word. "Wait....pregnant' You think you're pregnant?" he asked, obviously not expecting that. He knew it wasn't impossible, but it was very unexpected.

Ember stilled, looking up at him with worried eyes. "I might be," she confessed quietly. "Gia thinks I might be. Nem gave me some borlis root from Gia, that usually means there's a chance. I might not be, I might just have knocked my head or something last night."

Two things occurred to him as she tried to explain....The first was the shock at the possibility that she was pregnant, and the second was that she was feeling emotional, for some reason, though he had a different opinion on that. "Ember, don't be so hard on yourself. You've been through a lot," he said quietly, gently. "More than most people." Certainly more than he had. He hadn't been with the slaves very long; most of his time in the valley had been spent with her. He wasn't quite sure what borlis root was good for, but he assumed it had something to do with seeing whether or not she was pregnant. "If you have the borlis root, why don't you use it?"

"Because I was looking after Mahon, and I don't have access to boiling water?" she suggested a little helplessly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just blurt that out. I don't know what?s going on, and I'm feeling a bit broken. I killed two people who were supposed to be my sisters last night, and the mutants, and ....I don't want to let you down, but I feel like I'm completely out of control."

"Ember," he started, with a soft smile, unable to hide the affection he felt for her from his eyes or his expression. "I know you're scared, but you have to trust me. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I swear. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, either here or in the valley. But they don't know you like I know you. You just have to give them some time."

"I guess I always expect the worst these days," she admitted ruefully, easing back to let her hand slide into Ethan's grip. Her eyes rose to meet her lover's. "Would it work?" she asked him softly, the trust in her too deep to be anything but permanent. "Would ....I mean, is that something you want to do' And it has to be something you want, not something you want to do just to protect me."

"Would you like to get down on one knee for me?" Ethan broke in with a chuckle.

Mahon snorted in reply. "I don't think I could if I wanted to. The bathroom is free if you want some privacy," he suggested, a weary grin on his bearded face.

Ethan's fingers linked to Ember's and he turned to her with a smile on his own face. "If we are married, there is nothing they can do to break us apart. It is a sacred bond in the eyes of God and the people."

She smiled a little herself, a soft blush coloring her cheeks as she endeavored to ignore Mahon's grin. "That doesn't really answer my question, Ethan," she pointed out, turning to him, one brow raised teasingly. "Is it something you want to do, or something you're talking about because you think it's the only way to keep me safe?"

Once again, Ethan tried to ignore the looming presence of the big man, who seemed unable to stop grinning like an idiot while he watched them.

"Well, don't be a fool, lad. Answer the girl!" the big man told him, looking just a little too amused and maybe a little too proud of himself.

Ethan sighed, wishing he could have asked her this under more romantic circumstances. "Yes, it's something I want to do," he said, a little defensively, before softening. "I love you, Ember. I told you I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I just don't want you to feel like you have to say yes if you don't want to. You know nothing about the village or about our traditions, and I don't want you to feel like you are being forced into anything, but yes....I love you. Isn't that answer enough?"

"It is for me!" Mahon interjected again. "Now if you two wouldn't mind, I'd like to rest a while before I meet my son."

"Mahon, shut up and go to sleep," Ember informed the man on the bed with a roll of her eyes, drawing Ethan away from the bed to lower her voice in answer to him. "I love you, Ethan. I'm not sure of anything in my life right now except that I love you, and I want to spend my life with you. How is being forced if all this married does is make that a reality?" She reached up, gently stroking her hand against his cheek. "Why would I say no?"

Mahon snorted at Ember's reprimand, but closed his eyes as he laid back against the pillows, a silly smirk on his face, his own troubles forgotten for at least a little while. "You're welcome," he muttered, before giving over to sleep, allowing the pair to converse without him interrupting, though whether he was really asleep or not was uncertain.

Ethan held onto Ember's hands, meeting her gaze, his heart full of hope at her words. "Then marry me, Ember. Be my wife. We'll figure the rest of it out later. The only thing that matters is that I love you, and I don't want to be without you."

She'd thank Mahon another time, when she was not so caught up in finding a stable platform to cling to. "Yes, I'll marry you," she promised Ethan. "You don't need to ask me. I don't want to be without you, not ever."

It was too bad they weren't married already or that Mahon couldn't do it for them, but their promises to each other, their love for each other had to mean something in the eyes of the council, and Ethan was sure his father would support them. Ethan smiled, telling her again what he was feeling in his heart, even if those three little words didn't seem adequate to express all he was feeling. "I love you, Em," he told her, taking her in his arms and kissing her quite thoroughly, whether there was someone there to witness or not. Though neither had noticed, the big man who was supposed to be sleeping on the bed, cracked a grin at the young couple, touched by the moment he was in witness of.

Whether it was their promises, or the last thrill of adrenaline from their escape the night before, Ember's answering kiss was more than enthusiastic, pouring her heart into that meeting of mouths as her arms curled around Ethan, heedless of the ostensibly sleeping man watching them. Perhaps it was even hormones, who knew? All she knew was that she loved him, and he loved her, and somehow, they would make it through whatever was coming. Together.

((Out of the valley, and the dangers persist! Many, many thanks to my ever-awesome writing partner!))