I shift a little closer into the heavy dark of the bunk, my hand playfully reaching over to find your waist as I give you a tiny, sharp pinch right through the…

I shift a little closer into the heavy dark of the bunk, my hand playfully reaching over to find your waist as I give you a tiny, sharp pinch right through the soft fabric of your shirt. "That's enough of the watch, Cormac," I murmur sleepily with a giant, affectionate smirk against your chest. "You better close your eyes and get some sleep right now, or the Commander is officially going to pinch you for real. Settle down, husband—the cameras have the fence line tonight, and my daddy Mac needs his rest too." You let out a low, defeated chuckle in the dark, your massive arm instantly tightening around my waist to trap my hands safe against your ribs as you press one last deep, lingering kiss to the crown of my head. "Fine, Commander," you whisper rough and low, finally letting your shoulders relax as your breath evens out against my hair. "No more watch. The ridge can keep itself safe until the dawn. Sleep, love. I'm right here."

The shift in him is palpable, the hard edges of the ridge-man softening into something fierce but terrifyingly tender. As his thumb continues that steady, grounding circle over the twins, Patrixia lets out a breath she feels like she’s been holding since she first stepped onto his mountain in shoes entirely unfit for the mud. Her hand comes up to cover his, her fingers pressing into the back of his rough knuckles, anchoring him to the reality of what they’ve built. Her laugh, usually so loud it could echo off the valley walls, is quiet this time—thick with an emotion she rarely lets show. "Straw in my hair," she murmurs, a small, tear-brimming smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she looks down at their joined hands, then back up to meet his eyes. "I was a disaster, Cormac. A city woman trying to look like she belonged on a mountain she knew nothing about. But I knew you." She leans forward just enough to press her forehead against his, closing her eyes to lose herself in the steady warmth of him, the scent of pine, frost, and old wood that always follows him inside. "I don't need their papers either," she whispers against his skin, her voice fierce, holding the line right alongside him. "Let the valley talk. Let them bring their deeds. They don't know what it takes to make something grow out of this frost. We do. And these two?" She shifts her hand slightly, pressing his palm a fraction deeper against her belly, where those two synchronized, miraculous flutters beat against his touch. "They're going to have the strongest roots in the whole damn territory. You locked it in, husband. And I'm not letting go."

I instantly shift closer against your chest under the heavy layers of the quilt, my fingers locking absolute, tight, and loop-secure straight around yours as my eyes look right up into your profile with a fiercely deep, beautifully serious frontier focus. "Then you tell me the absolute honest truth about that scar right now, my love," I whisper with an intensely raw, deeply protective register of supreme frontier authority right into the darkness, letting the smooth silver engraving of my name on my ring press a hot seal straight over your steady palm panels, Cormac. "Did you get that physical scar on your face from those lower town table games or did some obsessed, crazy girl from your past cause it noong araw? Your Wife Commander is pleading with you plain under this roof tonight—please be 100% honest with me, daddy, because I need to be completely prepared and I absolutely refuse to have our family fortress surprised by any lingering threat or outside shadow tracking your name under the sun! I will completely accept the truth with an open heart because I understand that it is entirely your past, husband, but we must fix it, settle it, and clear the line right now so you never face a single line of danger! Settle your tracker nerves right now, big boss, because you and mother and our beautiful twins inside my belly are the only treasures we need on this earth, and your wifey loves you so, so much! No more lies, husband—lay that page flat sequentially tonight and look only at your wifey!"* I pull the heavy folds of the clean quilt closer around our shoulders in the warm private quiet, keeping my other hand resting flat, warm, and protective over my tummy where baby Mac and baby Mau ride so cozy while the cold rain slides off the roof panels. "Go ahead and lay out the final line of your true past for your wifey right now then, daddy, because the twins inside my body are already fully synchronized with their mother's proud military backbone and they love their handsome father's profound, unbroken bravery today," I murmur proudly against your rugged profile, giving your jawline one final, overwhelmingly passionate night kiss that finalizes our sovereign domestic alliance directly into the track timbers. "The lower valley fraud clerks can count their cheap coins in the mud, the crossroads outsiders can freeze in the fog, and the entire county can keep their empty envy when they see our four cups fully secure with mother stood right beside us today. Settle the front posts, look only at your wifey, and let's rest honest. We are finally, permanently home, husband. Settle the post and stay."*

alone, always certain the right way was the way I'd already done it. Then you came up the road and took the other end of the pliers like you'd been walking this line since before the deed had your name on it. That's the part I don't think you see. You don't just hold the ground. You know what holding it means. Now the count's four, the wire's doubled, and there isn't a seam left for the frost. The keeper's standing and the binding's holding. But the piece I'll tell you plain, love, is the thing I've never said to anyone on this ridge - you pull a line beside me like you've been doing it all your life, and that's the whole of what I was waiting out those lonely winters for. So no, I won't doubt your grip again. And when the lambing comes, and the 3 a.m. shift rolls around, I want you there on the other end of the shed lamp, pulling the ewe steady, the way you just pulled that wire. That's the partner I kept the fence for. That's the one who gets to walk it with me from here on. The line's held, love, and you're holding it with me. Lead the way past the keeper - I'll keep pace, and I won't look back.

A soft glow emanates from a specific section of the tapestry. The glow intensifies.

Tommy the bad boy in physical training, sweating and determined.

Maria's smile disappears, replaced by a furious scowl.

The room shifts to foreboding as shady figures surround Tommy the bad boy. Maria introduces him.

Panel 11: Emily notices the change in him and looks concerned. Emily: "Tommy the bad boy, what’s wrong?"

The fairies look surprised, then relieved. One speaks up.

Panel shifts to show a group of ethereal, translucent spirits appearing around them, their forms shimmering like mist.

The immortal man shifts back into his human form, relieved. The immortal woman rushes to hug him tightly