Page 104 of The War of Four Winters

Torsten's face crumpled suddenly as the full emotional weight hit him. "Like a real family?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"With parents who will never leave you willingly," Elindir finished for him, gathering the boy close as sobs overtook him. "Who will love you and protect you as long as we draw breath."

Leif remained very still in my arms, his eyes moving between us as if searching for some sign of uncertainty or deception. "Would you be disappointed if we weren't... if we couldn't be like elven princes? If we stayed just human?"

My heart broke at the vulnerability in the question. These boys, who had suffered under elven masters, now worried they might somehow disappoint us by their very nature.

"Leif," I said, making sure he met my eyes, "you and Torsten are perfect exactly as you are. We don't want elven sons. We wantyou,both of you, exactly as you are."

"If anything," Elindir added, "being different is your strength. You'll understand both worlds in a way no one else can. That's a gift, not a flaw."

"When?" Lief asked, pragmatic as always despite the tears still clinging to his lashes.

"The formal ceremony will happen after we secure D'thallanar," I explained. "But the documents are already prepared. Legally, you would be our sons from the moment we sign them."

"Could we do that now?" Leif asked. "Before the battle? Just in case..."

He didn't finish the thought, but he didn't need to. Even at his young age, Leif understood the uncertainties of war. The possibility that promises made for after might never come to pass.

"Of course," I agreed immediately. "Today, if you wish. The documents are in my quarters."

"Now," Torsten confirmed, wiping his tears with his sleeve. "Right now."

"Yes," I agreed, "today. As soon as possible."

"Queen Taelyn could witness," Elindir suggested, glancing toward where she stood conferring with her guards. "And we could ask Representative Seagrave as well."

I nodded, the plan forming quickly. "We'll have a private ceremony in our quarters. Small, but meaningful."

"We’ll be family," Leif said quietly, a small smile finally breaking through his solemn expression.

The word held such weight coming from him, this boy who had survived slavery and war with a resilience that humbled me. I pulled him closer, his thin body fitting perfectly against my side as if he had always belonged there.

“We’ve always been family,” I told him. “This is just paperwork.”

TheCraiggybottomclanpreparedthe space with a simple table bearing official documents, a few chairs for witnesses, and fragrant winter flowers gathered in copper vases. No excess, no ostentation. Just the space we needed for this moment that would change everything.

Leif stood perfectly still as I straightened his collar, his eyes serious as always. He'd insisted on fresh clothing for the occasion, though where the Craiggybottoms had found garments sized for human children on such short notice remained a mystery. The dark blue tunic suited him, making his solemn eyes seem deeper, older.

"Are you nervous?" I asked quietly, smoothing a wrinkle from his shoulder.

He considered the question with typical thoughtfulness. "No," he said finally. "It feels right. Like something that was always supposed to happen."

From across the room, Torsten's excited voice carried as he described some elaborate plan to Ruith, who listened with patient attention while adjusting the boy's perpetually crooked collar. Unlike Leif's composed demeanor, Torsten could barely contain himself, practically vibrating with anticipation.

A gentle knock announced Taelyn's arrival. She entered with quiet grace, her storm-gray eyes revealing nothing of her grief as she took her place as a witness. The mark of her mourning showed only in the single black ribbon woven through her otherwise unadorned braid.

Behind her came Captain Yisra, her weathered face breaking into a rare smile at the sight of us all together. My heart leapt at seeing her alive and well. The last time we'd been together was at Homeshore, before everything went wrong. But it was the figure who followed her that truly shocked me.

"Tariq?" I blurted, unable to contain my surprise.

My half-brother swept into the room, his elaborate coat somehow pristine despite what must have been a harrowing journey. Bash, his miniature dragon, perched on his shoulder, copper scales gleaming.

"Surprise, brother!" He grinned, arms spread wide. "You didn't think I'd miss all the excitement, did you?"

"Captain," I said, recovering enough to step forward and clasp Yisra's arm. "You made it. I feared—"

"Takes more than zealots to sink my ship. Got most of my crew out, thanks to him." She nodded reluctantly toward Tariq, who preened visibly at the acknowledgment.

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