"Wait."

As the word was spoken, one heart stopped and another begun to beat. Brennon paused, the grip on his sword loosening, his eyes wide with disbelief - he was fearful that if he breathed, the moment would fall away. Perhaps he was dead, and this is how the afterlife decided to greet him.

"No," Lorelai murmured, her eyes scrunching up. "Put the sword...down."

Brennon stared down at Lorelai's moving lips, dropping the sword without even realising. How? How were her lips, just moments ago lifeless, now formulating words?

"Bren," She tried to say, her throat hoarse.

"Lore." He whispered back, to afraid that this was a trick, his mind creating an illusion in his grief.  He was still,  his body  clenched tight, as if he were walking on a tightrope.

The rain had stopped, colour slowing fanning out into Lorelai's damp cheeks, her body desperately trying to make up for the time lost. Fluttering, her eyes began to slowly open, her violet irises surrounded by bloody veins. For a moment, everything was blurry, and as she faced up to the sky, she was met with a foggy grey. As her vision began to focus, she was aware of blonde hair and a face agape in her peripheral vision.  Realisation of where she was crept into her mind, and the stony shock of It made her lips part in an emotion that can only be described as ineffable. 

"Lorelai?," Brennon whispered slowly, his eyes scanning over her once dead frame.

"The," She coughed, bits of blood splattering out her mouth. "One and only."

She wanted to hug him, kiss him, never leave his side, tell him that everything was alright and they were going to be okay and that she loved him more than anything else in the world - but first, she had to be certain of one thing.

Glancing around, she saw the discarded sword laying beside them, and the only wound on Brennon was the one on his side, bleeding out, but not urgent. There was no wound above his heart. He was alive.

The realisation brought immediate tears to her eyes, and with great effort, she clutched Brennons waist with an arm, as proof to herself. "You're alive," She choked. "You're alive."

Brennon's blankness subsided, his brain sending out shockwaves of raw happiness. Slowly, he lifted her up to a near seating position, where she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching at him so desperately that nothing could have forced her to let go. "You're alive." She repeated the affirmation once more, hoping that by saying it again it would make it stick.

"No, we're alive."

They came together as one, closer than any union could have brought them. Their chests pressed together, tightly knit, Brennon barely even feeling the pain on his side. Lorelai's wound in her heart had vanished, but something else had crept up out of the ashes. Without a power to keep subdued, the parts of her that before couldn't fit, now filled up her heart entirely. The golden string she had followed hadn't disappeared - for while she could no longer see it, she could feel it, as it wound around every part of herself and led straight towards the chest pressed against her once again beating heart. Every fibre of her being, every muscle, every thought was compelled towards Brennon, entwined into his very existence. And as she stared into his shining,  hopeful eyes, she knew that he felt it too.

And in that moment, every look, every smile, every touch; everything that had been building up snapped into place.

She felt whole.

He felt free.

There were no words they could think of to express what passed through them, no words to explain the bond that attached them heart to heart - but they knew what burned inside them, and it made their clutches grow even tighter.  Mate.

A smile broke out of Lorelai's face, one that was jagged and raw and stretched from ear to ear - as soon as Brennon saw it he couldn't help but return the look. Her hands traced his bloodied face, and their lips fell together as inevitably as rain about to fall. A hand snaked around her hips as another rested on her thigh, propping her up against his lean body.

As they broke apart, he ran a hand through her hair, now mostly fallen out of its braid.  His eyes looked at her in question. 'Forever?' They seemed to ask.

'Forever.' Her eyes affirmed back.

They didn't want to leave, wanted to stay in each others embrace until they grew weak with hunger, but they were in a battlefield, and the situation around them wouldn't go away.

The little world that had been created just for them had disappeared as Lorelai took a glance behind Brennon, and came face to face with the dead body of a beast. She knew just from the colouring who it was. She stared down in shock at Brennon, how had she not noticed before?

"Brennon I'm so s-"

"Shh, it's alright." He stroked her back, avoiding looking at the scene behind him. He loved Lorelai, but that was something he wanted to deal with alone.

She stared at him in surprise. "You're High Lord?"

"Yes?," he answered, unsure at the tone in her voice.

"Stay with the High Lord." She murmured, eyes wide. "Stay with the High Lord!" She gasped out , gripping Brennon as if he understood the connection. "It was you!" Exclaiming, her hands went to her mouth. "The suriel - in my apartment - he knew, and then Carian and Everin - they knew as well!'

Brennon stared in confusion.

"Stay with the High Lord?"He asked.

"Yes! Exactly - that was it!"

It would be quite frank to say that he had no idea what any of it meant, but he had a feeling it was part of the reason Lorelai was sitting here with him now.

"I stayed, I chose to stay." She said softly, partly to herself. Looking back at him, she lifted herself off his lap, extending a hand towards him. Taking it, he heaved himself up, the pain in his wound beginning to return. 

"By the cauldron," Lorelai whispered, her eyes wide. "I had no idea it was that bad, you should've said."

"My lips were a little preoccupied Lore."

She rolled her eyes, fumbling around, trying to find a spare dagger anywhere on her. She found one on the inside corner of her thigh, and as she unlatched it, she saw Brennon's eyebrows raise in question.

 Slicing the dagger across her palm, she winced,  wiping the blade clean along her leathers. "That should do it. Right, do you trust me."

"Undoubtedly."

"Good, cause this isn't going to taste great."

Brennon's eyes widened as he realised her meaning, and he unconsciously took a small step away. She grabbed his hand, stopping him from retreating. "Trust me." She once again repeated. This time, Brennon's feet stood firmly on the ground, refusing to budge. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he drew blood from her wound, the magic running down his throat, spreading through his body. Hissing, he clutched his wound, yet as he pulled his hand away, the amount of blood seeping out had almost halved.

Lorelai tried not to let out a too prideful smile, but it was hard. Extremely hard.

"You're too magic for your own good, you know." Brennon chuckled, a wondrous glint in his eyes.

"Tell me about it," She huffed. "It's what got us into this bloody mess in the first place."

Too weak to fly or winnow, they walked hand in hand through the mountains. However, for every body they passed, for every wounded soldier they met, and for every time Brennon hissed in pain from the wound in his stomach,  a small voice seemed to whisper in Lorelai's mind. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. My-

"Hey," Brennon held her arm, taking her aside and stopping as they walked. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she threatened to crumple over the carnage around them. Understanding It all without needing to ask, he pulled her into his arms, delivering a caccoon of safety. "Don't let that bastard make you suffer any longer. This is not your fault." 

She sniffed. "I don't know where they are." Tears fell into Brennon, and he lightly stroked her damp hair. "Zane, Dad, Alec - what if they're wounded? What if they're d-"

"Lorelai!"

It's strange how just one word has so much power. One word can both make and break. For some, that word is wait, spoken by the love of your life. For others, that word would be spoken by your best friend, and would make your heart start to carefully stitch itself back together again. 

Zane slowly came into view in the dim moonlight, barely visible, climbing up a steep hill, Alec in tow. Zane's legs were scratched and bloody, Alec using his friends large frame to support himself up. Alec.

Lorelai ran towards her limp brother, heart beating so fast the rest of her couldn't keep up. "Alec," She whispered, helping Zane by gathering Alec's other arm. 

"He's not injured."  Zane said, even his voice sounding exhausted. "He wasted too much magic, he might be out for a couple days." Alec slumped down even further. "Or weeks."

Her heart did a tiny surge of happiness, he wasn't hurt. He was safe. Zane was safe.

"What happened to you?" She asked.

Zane shook his head. "Long story. Did Tamlin find you? Did he get there in time?"

Brennon overheard this, eyes widening. "You sent my father?"

Zane cautiously nodded.

"Cauldron, thank you." He strode over, entrapping Zane in a hug he couldn't escape from. "He saved our lives."

Zane was about to enquire on his current whereabouts, but one sniff in the air told him all he needed to know. Brennon was the new High Lord of Spring now, and Tamlin's body was lifeless. 

Without the ability to winnow or fly, and with walking back to the camp carrying Alec practically useless, they sat down again the jagged mountinside of Ramiel, waiting for an Illyrian scout to fly past and take them home.

"At least we know Rhys and Feyre are alive," Brennon murmured in the moonlight, softly stroking Lorelai's hand. Eyes closed, she nodded, her mind returning back partially to its prewar state. Though, she never would regain it  fully. Some things would stick in her mind forever, haunting her in the deepest corners of her mind, never letting her be  the same again. But, she had Brennon to help her through, and Zane and Alec and Rhys and Feyre and enough people that she knew in the end, she would be alright.

It was an Illyrian scout who found them in the end, as he flew high just below the clouds. Above the mass of dead bodies, he couldn't believe his eyes when, huddled against the mountain side, he saw three Illyrians and a High Lord asleep, tucked together amidst the carnage, survivors through hell.