You," said a sharp voice loaded with hate.

Haakon gasped, trying to kick his way back across the ground as the queen appeared, a knife held low against her skirts. Blood bubbled over his lips, and he coughed. A lung. The bastard had hit his lung. The pressure in his chest was back, and he felt like he could barely breathe.

"You dared to touch a dreki princess?" the queen hissed. "You dared defile her blood?"

Swords clashed nearby. Sirius taking on both Roar and the dreki who'd stabbed him. They sounded a world away.

"Wife," he managed to gasp, trying to reach inside his chainmail. "She's... my wife."

The queen's vicious green eyes narrowed. "Then let me make her a widow."

Striding forward, she brought the knife up sharply.

"Mother!" Árdís screamed, sliding to her knees between them and crouching over him. "No!"

"So be it, Árdís," the queen snarled, and moved to stab her.

It was now or never.

"Árdís," he wheezed, fumbling with what he held in his hand.

She captured her mother's hand, halting the downward strike. But the queen was stronger than she looked. Árdís's hands shook as she fought to hold the blade at bay. The queen leaned all her weight onto it, a lash of green light beginning to smoke from her eyes.

Árdís couldn't fight both knife and magic.

Hauling together every last bit of strength, Haakon lunged forward and locked the manacle around the queen's wrist, then slumped at her feet.

Golden light flared as the metallic links fused together. Amadea staggered back, looking down in shock and shaking her hand as if to remove it. "What have you done?"

"Trapped you," he rasped. "No magic. No dreki. Only your weak, pathetic human... form."

The strength was draining out of him. Somehow he ended up in Árdís's lap.

"You rotten cur," the queen snarled, taking a step toward them with the knife.

"Only he can remove it from your wrist. If he dies, then you'll wear that manacle for the rest of your immortal life." Árdís snapped. "Or perhaps it will only be a mortal lifespan, as the manacle warps both your ability to utilize magic and to shift forms. Perhaps it will drain the years from your future, as well."

The queen's face paled, and she tore at the manacle. "Get it off me! Stellan!"

A roar sounded. An enormous dreki lashed into the skies, abandoning his duel with Rurik.

"You should never underestimate me, mother," Árdís snapped. "I knew you'd cheat somehow. So we evened the odds. Enjoy your mortal life. I'd suggest you retreat, before I unleash my dreki upon you."

Stellan swooped down and plucked the queen into the air with his claws. A ragged slash of red ran down his flank as he lifted into the air, carrying her away.

Haakon blinked. He felt light-headed, but he knew the battle had broken. The surge of energy that had allowed him to manacle the queen vanished. All he could feel now was pain. Árdís knees cushioned his head. A tear splashed into his face. He reached up to her, his fingers numb as he brushed her cheek. "Worth it," he whispered.

Or thought he did.

His lips felt like they weren't moving.

"No!" Árdís screamed, and it was the last thing he heard as darkness rushed up to take him.

* * *

"Haakon?"

She shook him, but his head lolled to the side, a rasp coming from his chest.

Árdís scrambled out from beneath him, pressing her fingers to the pulse in his neck. His heart still beat, but it was very weak, and blood covered the mud. Tearing his chainmail open, she tried to find the cause of it. There. Under his arm.

"Somebody help me!" she cried, her fingers coming away wet and slick. She didn't know what to do. Some dreki could heal others, but it was not one of her gifts. "Rurik!"

His mind touched hers, and then he was by her side.

"He's been stabbed," she whispered, cradling Haakon's face. "He's barely breathing."

A hesitation. "I'm not a very good healer."

"Please. Just try." She reached for Haakon with her psychic gifts, her mind brushing against his, even as her hand curled around his cheek.

"Árdís." Haakon twitched.

"I love you," she sent back, her mind tangling with his. "Please don't leave me. You promised you'd protect me forever. I will follow you through the gates of death itself," she whispered, feeling the clouds swirl over them.

Her vision blurred. She stood on a grassed slope with the skies racing above her, a meld of furious clouds one second, and the next sunlight. Haakon walked ahead of her, his enormous cloak swirling around his boots. Sunlight turned the world into a glorious green haven. One she recognized. A goat bleated. The thatched roof of a house peaked over the horizon.

Home.

He was going home.

"Haakon!" She sprinted along the path behind him, snatching for his arm.

Her hand locked around his, and he turned, his skin pale and bloodless. "Árdís?"

"You're mine, Haakon Dragonsbane, and I will not let you go. Not now. Not ever."

Thunder crashed, and her head jerked up.

Then a pair of hands captured her face, tilting her mouth up. "Mine," Haakon agreed, just before his lips took hers.

The kiss fused the pair of them together, and a whirlwind of power swept up through her. It sparked all across her skin. Suddenly she didn't know where he began, and she ended. She felt like Haakon's mind brushed back against her. A sickening whirl began to pull her down, toward him. Árdís swayed.

"Hold him there," Rurik snapped.

She stood on the edge of life and death, energy draining through her as she gritted her teeth. If she let go, even for second, then she'd lose him, she knew.

Heat flushed through the pair of them all of a sudden, and Árdís sensed her brother trying to direct weaves of pure Fire. Haakon suddenly screamed, his spine arching as they wove through him. Árdís wrapped her arms around him, standing in two worlds as she fought to hold him.

"I will never let you go," she promised.

Thunder clapped, and the skies spit lightning. Haakon collapsed beneath her, and then Árdís was blinking back into the natural world. Exhausted.

"The Great Goddess has heard your vow," Rurik murmured, sitting back on his knees. A relieved smile graced his face as she blinked at him. "You've claimed him as yours."

"What happened?" she whispered.

"Instinct, Árdís. That's all you ever truly needed."

She could feel the whisper of her husband's thoughts against hers. His life tied to hers. A surge of pure happiness shot through her. "I bound him."

"Árja?" Haakon rasped, reaching up to touch her skin.

She captured his hand, consumed by the strange feelings inside her. "Haakon!" Leaning down, she threw her arms around him, careless of the mud or the blood, or anything but the feel of him against her. "You're alive. And mine. Forever."