Page 377 of Of Empires and Dust

“Must you know a flame a year to know it is warm?” Her smile softened, and she reached up and cupped Dahlen’s cheek in her empty hand. “Unless Hafaesir smiles on us, we will not see the morning. I have found you, Dahlen, and I would not lose you. When we return to the rock, I would have it that our hearts do so together. My people do not have ceremonies like yours. We require nothing but truth in our hearts, the ground beneath our feet, and Hafaesir’s blessing. If it is not what you want, I understand… but I refuse to die without asking.”

Dahlen touched the gold ring in Nimara’s palm. “And what if we live? What if we don’t die?”

She laughed, brushing her fingers along his cheek. She didn’t say a word, just stared into his eyes.

He did love her. Until that very moment he had not thought on it as love. He had not thought on it as anything. He had simply been content that she was at his side, that her body had warmed his on the cold nights and her voice had filled the silence. But his heart twisted at the idea of waking the next morning and not seeing her next to him, not feeling that warmth, not hearing that voice.

Dahlen cupped his hands around Nimara’s and nodded. “I swear to fight for you with all my heart.”

“And I you. Even though you snore like a drunk virtuk.”

Dahlen brought his hands to Nimara’s cheeks and pulled her close, kissing her deeply. “This was not how I saw this night beginning.”

She shook her head. “I could not die without knowing… I could not let you die without knowing. Now, if we die here, we die together, two parts of a whole. And if we live, we will do that together also.” She pulled back and placed the gold ring into Dahlen’s hand. “Wear it, or don’t. But keep it safe. It is my heart, and it belongs to you.”

Dahlen took the ring and pressed it against his chest. “I don’t have anything to give you in return… I don’t own anything. Nothing except my clothes, my armour, and…”

His heart stopped at the thought of what he was about to do. His swords were everything. They were the last remnants of his mother, all he had to remember her by. No diamond, jewel, or precious metal was worth their price. Not even a wagonful. They were all he had. But then he thought back to his memories of Naia, of how fiercely she had loved both him and Erik and how bright that same love had burned for their father. He let out a long sigh and reached for the hilt of the blade over his right shoulder.

Nimara rested her hand on his elbow and stopped him, shaking her head. “Those blades are not possessions,” she said,giving him a weak smile. “They are extensions of you. And I would rather they remain so. Use them to keep us both alive. There will be time to think on a gift, in this life or in the reforging. Right now, all I want is your heart. To be your equal and you mine.”

“You have it.”

Nimara lifted up onto her toes and pulled Dahlen into a passionate kiss, setting his heart to racing. He ran his fingers through the back of her hair and pulled her close, cheers and claps sounding around them. “I’ve seen your heart, Dahlen Virandr, and I would hold it fiercely for what little time we have.”

The pair ascended to the battlements over the gates, where they found the Belduarans, Almer, Yoring, Erdhardt, and Tharn Pimm awaiting them.

Yoring stepped away from the parapet and looked down at the golden ring Dahlen had slid onto the middle finger of his right hand. “Did I just witness what I think I witnessed?”

Without waiting for a response, he looked to Almer with a broad grin on his face.

“Fuck.” Almer shook his head.

“I knew it. I knew she would.” Yoring shrugged and held out his hand, glaring at Almer when nothing dropped into it.

“Why would I have gold up here?”

“You wouldn’t have paid anyway.” Yoring moved forwards and grasped Dahlen’s forearm. “From the walls of Belduar to the walls of Salme, Virandr. And now you’ve given your heart to a dwarf.” He looked to Nimara. “It’s only because you knew I’d say no, isn’t it?”

“Even if Hafaesir himself blessed you, I wouldn’t touch you with somebody else’s hand, Yoring.”

Almer stepped past the two, grasped Dahlen’s forearm, and pulled him in close, clapping him on the back. “You are a lucky man. She would kill a god to keep you safe.”

“I know I am.”

“But she is lucky too. It’s been an honour to fight at your side all this time, Dahlen Virandr. As it will be an honour to die by it.” He looked out into the night and the mass of torches along the hilltop that had yet to move. “What more could a dwarf wish for than a glorious death? We all die somewhere. At least here they will sing songs of it.”

“Am I the only one who would prefer not to die tonight?” Tharn Pimm was stringing his bow as he spoke, a frown carved into his face.

“I believe many here feel the same way.” Thannon looked down to where a clutch of Lorian soldiers marched towards the western wall, heavy Valtaran shields strapped to their arms. “Though there are some who would not be missed.”

Dahlen shot him a sharp look, and Thannon furrowed his brow in response. They’d had the conversation many times. Dahlen shared the man’s sentiment, though in truth Dorman and many of his soldiers had proven themselves not only invaluable, but honourable. Still, they were Lorian, and he would not weep over the bodies. But sowing discontent would do no good.

“Thannon, Camwyn, ensure the rest of the Wolves are ready.”

Thannon shook his head. “There is no?—”

“At once, Lord Captain.” Camwyn grabbed Thannon by the arm and pushed him along the battlements to where the other twelve surviving Kingsguard stood alongside the rest of the Silver Wolves.

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