How fitting to post the final chapter on Mamoru's birthday! Let us imagine that I planned it that way the whole time. ^_^

I know you're eager, so I'll put my ANs at the bottom. Enjoy!

Return to Aysel: Another Grimm Tale
Alicia Blade

Chapter 21: Ever After
"Is it you, my Prince?" said she to him. "You have waited a long while."
from Perrault's Sleeping Beauty

Serena's momentary relief of breaking the water's surface became terror as she gripped Darien's shirt. She felt his face—the skin damp and cold. She put her ear to his chest and had to strain to hear, but yes—there was a heartbeat. Faint though the heartbeat was, hope surged through Serena's veins.

"Darien, wake up!" She cupped his face. His lips were parted and chapped. She strung her fingers through his wet hair, brushing it back off his face. He was shivering, and noting this made her realize that she was, too.

"Darien!" Her voice cracked. The sound echoed off the cavern walls. Water was quickly making its way up around them, the waves sloshing first at Serena's knees, then her thighs, now her hips. "Darien, please!"

She looked up at the mirror—their escape. It was so close, but she would have to lift him up to get him through it and she didn't have the strength.

What else could she do? Give him mouth-to-mouth? CPR? But she didn't know how, and couldn't it injure a person if . . . if . . .

She grasped his shoulders and shook him. She cried his name again as two hot tears slipped off her chin and mingled with the salt on his shirt. She had to try. She had to do something.

She strained to remember all the times she'd seen it on TV and cupped her hands together. Sitting up, she pressed her palm against Darien's sternum, prayed, and pushed.

Nothing happened. Was she being too gentle? Was she pounding on the right spot?

Clenching her jaw, she tried again, harder. She put all of the weight of her body into the pressure and tried to visualize the water in his lungs, being gradually pushed up and out.

"You can't leave me," she whispered. "Not again. Not you too."

She counted to ten, and then bent over and wrapped her lips over his mouth. He was cold to the touch. Pinching his nose—she was sure she'd seen that done—she breathed for him three times.

Still, no sign of life.

She started again.

And again.

Push. Push. Breathe.

He didn't respond.

"Darien!" She sobbed, frustration overwhelming her.

How unfair, after everything. To be saved, to have her heart back, to finally know and understand and to be alive again, only to lose . . .

Balling her hands into fists, she pounded at his chest. Her thoughts overflowed with pain, remembering blood and death and loneliness.

Was it some twisted act of fate, punishing her for daring to try and love again? Reminding her who she was, what she was?

To not have kissed him—just like before.

To not have let him tell her the words, the words she so badly wanted to hear, the words she so badly wanted to say—just like before . . .

She harshly shook her head, dislodging the thoughts. She couldn't lose him.

She swiped at her eyes. She wouldn't lose him.

The water had risen half way up Darien's chest, but Serena ignored it. She clasped her hands and began again.

Push. Push. Push. Push. Breathe. Breathe. Push. Push.

Without warning, water gurgled up from Darien's mouth. Serena gasped, then quickly turned his head to the side, letting the water spill from his lips.

He coughed.

A relieved cry escaped her and she took his face in both hands, calling his name, pleading.

He opened his eyes. The blue of his irises had never been so beautiful.

With another weak cough, he smiled and reached up, stroking the trail of her tears with his thumb. "Did we make it?"

She sobbed. "Almost. The exit is right there."

She didn't gesture at the mirror, and he didn't look.

He tried to smile, but it was a weak expression. "Is this the part where the damsel kisses her knight in shining armor?"

Unable to tell if he was serious, Serena stared at him and, after a moment, spotted a teasing glint in his expression. She laughed—relief and gratitude breaking through her terror. "Who's the damsel and who's the knight?" She gripped his hands. "Besides, we're not safe yet."

Darien sat up with a grunt, and had to pause and cough up more water, pounding on his chest. When his breathing was stable, he squeezed Serena's fingers and used the other hand to balance himself as he stood. "In that case, our happily ever after awaits."

"Technically," she said as they stumbled toward the mirror, "Guardians aren't supposed to get happily ever afters."

Darien glanced back at her. Despite how ragged and exhausted he looked, there was a familiar twinkle in his gaze. "After all this, I was thinking maybe the fates could make an exception . . . just this once."

Serena flopped face-first onto the muddy shore, and heard Darien crumple beside her with a groan—half pain, half relief.

"Serena!" The cry came from more voices than she could distinguish. She pushed her wet bangs out of her eyes and blinked up at the figures crouched around her. There was Lita, her auburn hair outlined in moonlight, her face changing from concerned to happy in the moment it took Serena to squint up at her.

"She's okay," Lita said, stroking Serena's hair. Then her mother was there, lifting her in warm arms, holding her against her chest like she was a child again.

"Darien's hurt," Serena said, but Raye was already kneeling beside him, pressing fabric against the sword wound on his thigh.

"I have sent my sister to alert the king to our return."

Serena turned to Tristis. She was kneeling beside a prone Melvin, wrapping his limbs in different colored silken bandages, torn from multiple dress skirts. "They will prepare rooms for you all. We have medicines, and a healer." But her face was drawn with worry.

Darien pushed Raye away, holding the material against his own wound. "No offense, but can't we go back to the dwarfs instead?"

"Too far," Tristis said, not looking at all offended. "I'm not sure the magician would . . ." She licked her lips and tentatively brushed a blood-matted strand of hair off Melvin's brow. "Worry not. You are heroes now. You will receive a due reception."

Serena did not realize how cold the night had become until a chill spread over her damp skin. She surveyed the shore, everything painted silver beneath the low-hanging moon. The horizon was just beginning to glow with the approaching sun.

Mina was sitting nearby, trying to comfort a wide-eyed Cytherea in her lap. Amy and Zoicite sat higher on the bank—Amy was trying to tend to his wounds, but his kisses kept distracting her. Not far away, Emerald was wrapping Sapphire's shoulder in more makeshift bandages. Luna and Briar Rose lingered beside Melvin, helping Tristis tend to him, but the blood was seeping through the silks as quickly as they could apply them. Melvin was unconscious, his face beaded with fever.

Serena's heart sunk down into her stomach. "Is he going to be all right?"

No one responded.

Tensing, Serena opened her mouth to ask again, but then a hand wrapped around hers and squeezed. She turned to Darien. His brow was drawn, the same fear mirrored in his eyes. She gulped, and did not press further.

Of course he would be okay. It was Melvin—how could he not be?

She instinctively curled closer to Darien and gripped his soaked arm.

A moment later, hooting and whistling could be heard off in the woods. Tristis's hands paused, her eyes flashing with irritation, but the look was gone by the time the first elves emerged from the trees.

There were both men and women. They carried large wicker baskets, trays lined with foods, and heavy woven cloth. At the front of the crowd hailed an elf man with a cherry red face and a crown of bluebells on his head. Tristen walked at his side.

"Tristis!" he bellowed. "You're all right!" His eyes were twinkling, both with a grin and with unshed tears.

Tristis glanced up at her father, and her features softened. "Yes. But these men are badly hurt." She laid a hand upon Melvin's arm. "The magician will need to be carried. You brought—?" She spotted the heavy fabrics. "Good, bring that canvas over here." Her voice rang with such authority that the elves and their king paused, bewildered. She ignored their surprise. "Lay out the cloth—quickly. We must get him back to the city as fast as possible. I trust the healer was told to prepare for him?"

Tristis coached the elves as they spread out the canvas—each sheet had a tree branch sewn into either end and Serena guessed that their makeshift gurneys usually posed as hammocks.

Following Tristis's commands—half of which were "Gentle!"—the elves lifted Melvin onto the material and carried him into the forest.

Tristis lingered, giving more orders for the elves to assist the other injured heroes. More hammocks were laid out, and while Darien, Sapphire, and Zoicite argued that they could walk just fine, they were soon all forced to lie down and were carried away.

Heavy cloaks and blankets were produced from the baskets and thrown over the ladies. As they followed the elves back toward the village, bowls of nuts and berries were passed around for nourishment and only too gratefully accepted.

As they wound their way through an overgrown path, Serena heard Amy gasp and pause, one hand on her belly.

"Uh-oh," said Lita, but Amy shook her head.

"No, no, it's much too early for that," she said. Turning, she grinned at her friends with glittering eyes. "But he just kicked."

This announcement was met with a swarm of giddy ladies, elf and human alike, all trying to touch Amy's stomach and feel the miracle for themselves. Amy did not seem to mind as she propped herself against Serena's shoulder with a hand over her heart, beaming. "I wasn't sure, until just now . . ." she said, tears tumbling down her pale cheeks. "I didn't know if he had . . . if he could have survived that."

Serena squeezed her and imagined that little white candle up in the Cave of Lost Souls, all ready to spark to life.

"Is it a boy?" she asked.

"Oh, we won't know until he, or she, comes for sure. But . . . I have a feeling."

"Any names picked out?" Raye said as they started walking again, Amy being half-carried between Serena and Lita.

Pressing her lips together, Amy looked down, carefully choosing her steps on the uneven path. "Yes . . ." Her gaze flickered to Serena. "If it's a girl, we're going to name her after you."

Serena's jaw dropped. "Really?"

"Blast you, Amy," said Raye, "Jade and I were going to name our first daughter Serena."

Amy laughed, and mindlessly stroked her belly.

"But if it's a boy," she whispered, "we're going to name him Endymion."

Three messengers were sent to the three kingdoms, on the three fastest horses the elves could provide. Incidentally, these were the same horses that the elves had captured from Darien, Melvin, and Zoicite, but Serena did not find this out soon enough to be properly irritated. In fact, when the group had returned from the lakeshore, the elves were so hospitable, so accommodating, so eager to please, that even Darien and Zoicite seemed to have a tough time staying mad about their earlier treatment.

Each guest had been set up with their own private hut in the boughs of the giant oak tree. Water had been boiled for baths and scented with lavender. The sole elven doctor—an elderly woman who had had plenty of practice bandaging wounds and setting broken bones given that the elves were so prone to pulling stupid stunts—worked tirelessly, darting between the huts that separated her patients.

Mostly she spent her time with Melvin.

Zoicite's injuries were not severe, and a few well-placed salves had him up and about in no time.

Darien's leg was rubbed with a liberal amount of witch hazel ointment, and he'd been instructed to change the bandages every few hours until they came off clean.

Sapphire's shoulder had required stitches, and was set into a sling to keep him from disturbing them.

But Melvin. . . .

Serena did not really know what the old woman was doing to Melvin. The huts were small, and Melvin's was so full with the doctor and a series of her assistants, always coming and going on different errands, and Tristis who refused to leave, that Serena found she was only in the way when she tried to check on her best friend. And so she'd lingered on the rope bridge outside his hut as the sun had risen. She'd listened with growing anxiety as the doctor called for different herbs and more bandages—always more bandages.

When she could take no more, Serena retreated to her own chambers. She had bathed, eaten from the tray of fruits left by her hammock, and dozed fitfully for not more than an hour before she was up again, pacing her small room and wringing her hands.

She stopped at the only window and forced herself to draw in a measured breath. She had to trust that someone would come to tell her if there was any change in Melvin's condition. Worrying would solve nothing . . . but knowing this did not make her worry any less.

There was a faint smell of smoke in the village, leftover from fires that had been reduced to cinders in the night. And sap. And even the distant scent of rain.

She exhaled. Below her, past the branches and straw canopies of other huts, she could see torches and the shadows of elves frolicking between the trees.

They did not seem to realize that one of their heroes was suffering. Perhaps no one had told them. And so there was music. There had been music for the past few hours, since she and her companions had arrived, battle-worn and weary. A celebration had ensued that showed no sign of ceasing. Gongs and drums pounded somewhere deep in the shadows. Laughter, shouting, cheers echoed through the trees. Occasionally, as she watched, Serena spotted an elf doing somersaults or flips, or a couple of elves dancing, quick on their tiptoes, or a crowd of children screeching and giggling as they played their new favorite game: the Dragon vs. the Phoenix.

It was like a parade. No worries. No cares. Everyone was just so . . . happy.

The sight made Serena want to scream.

Her best friend was hurt. Her best friend was . . . was . . .

Footsteps and the creak of swinging ropes drew her attention away from the window. She expected Darien, the only other person in the village who would understand her misery, and could already feel a comforting warmth grow in her chest.

But it was Sapphire who appeared in the doorway.

His face was serious. He wore the same torn, stained shirt, as there were no larger tunics in the village that could fit him. The sling kept his arm firmly knocked against his chest.

"Please excuse my interruption," he said, just outside the threshold.

Serena settled her weight against the windowsill. "It's okay. Is something wrong?"

He seemed to hesitate, before taking a single step into the room. "I want to apologize," he said. "Though I am aware that no words can ever undo what I did to you. I—" His voice wavered and he paused, setting his jaw before meeting Serena's gaze. "Please know, Lady Serena, that I never intended to mislead you. That if I'd known . . ."

"It's all right."

"No. It isn't. Not really." He took another uncertain step into the room. "Lady Serena . . . I know what it is to love someone with your whole self, your whole heart. Now that I have come so close to losing Emerald. . . . And to know what you have gone through, and to have . . . to have reignited . . . to have reawakened those feelings, and that loss . . . I cannot—I am so sorry."

Serena did not think Sapphire knew precisely how she felt, but it seemed a trivial point to argue.

She attempted a reassuring smile. "You were a victim too, Sapphire. And if you want to know the truth, it turned out that dying was the best thing that's happened to me in a very long time."

He frowned. "Dying?"

"And then coming back to life, of course. It helped me realize some things and . . . accept some things, that I probably never would have accepted otherwise."

"But . . . that hardly excuses—"

"You didn't know. How could you have known, without your memories, and with Diamond leading us all to believe. . . . And besides, in the end . . . it was rather nice being able to hold Endymion one last time."

He lowered his gaze, misunderstanding—but that was how she intended it.

"How is Emerald?"

He straightened at the name. His eyes brightened—as did the ghostlike aura drifting over his head.

"She is well. Sleeping, at the moment." He paused. "We are to be married, as soon as we return to Cashlin."

This time, it was an unhindered smile that found Serena. "Congratulations."

"Thank you. And—thank you for . . . everything. You've made this possible, Lady Serena. Guardian."

A firework exploded somewhere over the treetops—the boom shook the canopy and briefly shocked the world red and yellow. It was followed by a roar of approval from below, and then more fireworks.

"I suppose those will wake up Emerald," Sapphire said.

"You should go to her. I was just about to go check on Melvin, see if there's been any improvement."

Sapphire seemed humbled at Melvin's name, and even bowed a bit, perhaps subconsciously. "I will leave you then, with, again, my apology . . . and my gratitude. And . . . my wishes that you will find happiness, Lady Serena."

He disappeared into the shadows. Serena listened to the sound of his boots fading as he crossed the rope-and-plank bridge that connected to a nearby maple, and then she was left with her thoughts and the fireworks.

She sighed and rubbed a palm over her brow, but her respite was short.

"Lady Guardian!"

Serena started, hearing the quick pitter of feet on the platform outside the hut. Princess Tristen appeared at her door, wide-eyed. "Come quick. The magician—"

Needing no further prompting, Serena darted past the princess, over the rope bridge, and across the platform into Melvin's hut, nearly choked with panic.

Only the doctor and Tristis remained. The doctor was standing before a basin of water, washing blood from her small hands.

The princess sat beside Melvin, clutching his hand. Though her expression was empty, her dark eyes stormed with anguish.

Serena gulped hard and stepped into the room. The sunlight falling on the bed should have made the room warm and inviting, but there was a stark chill in the air.

Melvin's eyes were still closed. He was wrapped nearly head to toe with blood-spotted bandages, tufts of messy brown hair poking through the material. His glasses had been removed. Beads of sweat lingered on his forehead.

The world spun beneath Serena's feet, and she steadied herself on a small side table.

More footsteps thudded outside, and a shadow fell over the doorway.

"I heard—!" Darien did not finish.

Tristis did not look at either of them.

Drying her hands on a towel, the doctor turned to Serena with weary eyes. "I have done all I can for him," she said in a voice that cracked with rarely known sorrow.

Darien came to the foot of the bed. "And he . . ."

"The bleeding will not stop. If this continues . . . there is nothing else to be done. His fate is with the storytellers now."

Serena sucked in a trembling breath, suddenly light-headed. She watched, stricken, as a tear rolled out of Tristis's eye and the elf princess bent over, nestling her cheek against Melvin's shoulder.

"He fought so bravely," she murmured. "He saved us."

Serena knew Darien had slipped a hand into hers, but she hardly felt him. Her jaw had dropped. Her eyes were glued to a charcoal aura lingering over the princess.

A thunderous voice arose from outside the hut. "What's this I hear about the magician dying before I've had a chance to give him a proper reward?" The king stomped into the room, arms folded over his chest. Tristen appeared in the doorway behind him, clutching the door's frame as if afraid that death could be contagious.

Without stirring, Tristis murmured into the blankets, "Father, please."

The sorrow that filled her words stole the buoyancy from the king. As if realizing that no one was playing a practical joke on him, his face fell. "Oh," he managed, looking down on Melvin with sympathy and even a touch of guilt. Clearing his throat, he scratched behind an ear. "I-I am sorry. He was a fine magician."

Serena clenched her teeth and inched forward so that her legs met the cot.

"I-I might be able to help him."

Tristis raised her head as another tear made its way down her pale cheek.

"But it would require your assistance."

Straightening, Tristis squeezed Melvin's hand at the same time Serena felt Darien squeeze hers.

"Anything," said the princess.

Serena glanced at the girl's aura and hesitated, before proceeding.

"Will you bind yourself to him?" she said, speaking slowly so that she could not be misunderstood. "Will you tie your destiny to his, so that his happiness will always be your happiness, and his sorrow will always be your sorrow? Will you share your fate with him? Your . . . your very soul with him, forever?"

Tristis's lips parted with surprise, but a light brimmed in the depths of her black eyes. "Yes," she whispered, breathless and hopeful.

"Now, hold on just one second," said the king, pushing Darien out of the way to get closer to the bed. "What is all this about? It sounds like . . . that almost sounds like marriage!"

"In a way," said Serena, "it is stronger than marriage."

"See that? You can't marry him!"

As if just noticing her father was speaking, Tristis blinked up at him. "Why not?"

"Because he—he's human! And . . . and that would make him king!"

Tristis's face had gone blank again, but suddenly it softened. And she smiled, a barely recognizable, tranquil smile. The king stumbled back a step.

"The magician has made me laugh, Father," she said, her lashes dipping. "By your own law, I am already his rightful bride, and he the rightful king."

The king gaped at her. "What? When?" He glanced at Tristen in the doorway, but she shrugged. He turned back to Tristis. "What was the joke?"

Tristis's grin broadened a hair more and she turned her whimsical eyes upon Melvin. "You would not understand." A heartbeat passed as she laced their fingers together. She looked up at Serena again. "Yes," she repeated. "I would be honored to be bound to him."

Serena nodded, seeing that Tristis's fate was already taking on a tinge of heather gray. As she reached her hand out toward the aura, it occurred to her that these two would never be able to be too far separated. Melvin would never be able to come home.

She hoped he would feel it was a worthwhile sacrifice.

A tendril of the silver cloud clung to her finger as she pulled it away.

It seemed to shimmer at her touch, as if it knew the role she intended for it.

Serena held the tendril up to Melvin's lips and as he took in a weak, shuddering breath, the aura slipped into his mouth and disappeared.

"In this way," she murmured, "you are forever bound."

Her eyes were soft as she looked down upon her best friend, his face ashen with the nearness of death. There was a moment in which Serena feared he would not be able to accept the fate offered him. That being of another world would prevent him from binding with Tristis.

But her fears were quickly dismissed.

Melvin moaned—a deep, cranky moan, filled with aches and pains—and the aura slipped out of his mouth and drifted up to hang over his head.

His brown eyes opened, squinting. His brow furrowed as he looked up at Tristis and then Serena. Confused, he raised a hand to his face. "Where're my glasses?"

Tristis grabbed them off the bedside table and handed them to him. Her face was flushed pale pink and her eyes glowed, as bright as they had ever been. She looked almost giddy, and this was the sight that first greeted Melvin when he slid his spectacles onto his nose. He gasped in surprise.

The princess's small, hopeful smile became a much brighter one, overflowing with relief.

It did not help Melvin's speechlessness.

In her happiness, Serena felt a small hand tap her elbow and the elf healer murmured, "You make a good doctor," before leaving the hut.

"How do you feel?" Darien asked, shaking off his own astonishment.

Melvin pried his stare from Tristis to look at Darien and Serena. "I . . . hurt. Everywhere."

"You were attacked by a two-ton fire-breathing dragon."

Melvin groaned, as if the memory made the pain worse.

"Thanks for saving the day, Melvin," Darien said, quite seriously.

But at that moment, Tristis pressed her hand again into Melvin's and his surprise was such that he barely heard Darien's words. He turned wide eyes to the princess, but she kept her gaze resolutely fixed on the blankets as more blood rushed to her cheeks.

The king harrumphed. "Well, I'm still not thrilled with the whole human thing, but I guess if you can make my daughter smile like that, then you have my blessing. And you will make a fine king."

Melvin's eyes widened behind his glasses. "King?"

"Aye, m'boy. Welcome to the family."

Tristis cleared her throat, pulling Melvin's attention back to her. She still could not look at him. "Only if you will have me," she breathed, so quietly that he barely heard her.

"H-have you?"

Serena laced one arm through Darien's elbow and the other through the king's. "I think that's our cue."

She shoved the two men out the door before turning to look back at Melvin, meaning to give him an encouraging smile, but his stunned gaze was locked on the princess. It was peculiar seeing the light aura over his head—the exact shade as Tristis's. Peculiar even more, the princess's flushed cheek and hopeful gaze.

A happy ending in the making.

The day's celebration had only just begun to die down when it had cause to kick right back up again: the princess's engagement had been announced.

There had already been talk of a weeklong party in the elven village, and it was only exacerbated by the gossip. The story of how the all-powerful magician had defeated the evil sorcerer had spread fast as dandelion seeds and the elves could not help feeling as if their future king's victory was their victory, too.

Serena could not keep up with the celebration. A full day of eating, drinking, dancing, and more eating—along with having slept only in winks that morning—had left her yearning for a moment's peace.

She finally found that moment on the bank of the river as the sun descended over the forest. She heaved a sigh as she sank down beside a sleepy Darien, kicked off her boots, and dipped her toes into the cool water. Darien was a step ahead of her—the legs of his pants rolled up, lying back on the sandy shore with his arms tucked beneath his head. The evening was crisp and cool, and the waterfall almost masked the racket from the village.

"Melvin and the elf princess," said Serena. "Who would have thought?"

Darien snickered. "What I can't believe is that he not only found a pretty girl who adores him, but who is actually shorter than he is. Must be a match made in heaven."

"Oh, is that all it takes?" Serena said, tucking the hem of her skirt beneath her thighs and splashing the water up on her legs.

"Pretty much."

She smirked down at Darien, but his eyes were closed, and her smile quickly fell away. How could he look so content, after all that had happened?

How could she feel so content?

"How's your leg?" she asked, her eyes darting to the blood-stained hole in his pants, where Diamond's sword had struck.

"Oh, fine. Now that we're not running for our lives, it actually has time to hurt a little." He grinned cheekily. "But there are worse things. Like . . . having your heart ripped out. Or being turned into a goose."

Serena lay down, ignoring the sand that would get in her hair, and let the sound of the waterfall drown out everything but her and Darien.

"So what next?" he said after a long, peaceful moment.

"I'm trying not to think about it."

"It's all I can think about."

She inhaled slowly, letting her eyes lock on a single wispy cloud, alone in the sky. "Well . . . we go home, I guess." A pause. "What are we going to tell Melvin's parents?"

"His mom always said he was destined for greatness," said Darien. "I think being the king of the elves qualifies."

With a groan that was half-laughter, Serena covered her face with her arms. "I can't wait to tell that story."

"Well . . . I had another idea. Other than going home right away."

She heard him shift onto his side, and lowered her arms.

"I overheard your mom invite us to Obelia. I think we should go."

"Don't you think your parents are going to be freaked out enough as it is? I'm sure they've put up a million missing person posters by now."

Darien shrugged. "I could have Mr. Grimm deliver a note to them."

"A note?" Serena guffawed. "Saying what? Not the truth, I hope."

"Well I haven't figured that out yet. But since all three of us are missing, they probably assume we're up to some crazy shenanigans, so I'll just go with that. Tell them we temporarily joined the circus or something."

"Right. Brilliant plan."

Darien continued as if he hadn't heard her. "And we can always drop this semester and start up in the spring instead."

Serena blinked up at him. She'd almost forgotten about school. "But . . . we'll lose our apartment. Our deposit was only for a month."

He shrugged, trailing his fingers through the sand. "There are lots of apartments. And we should think about downsizing anyway, if it's just going to be the two of us."

That was right. It was just going to be the two of them.

She sighed. "I'm going to miss him."

"Me too," said Darien. "And that's another thing—don't you think we should stay for the wedding?"

The thought of missing Melvin's wedding was a painful one. "Are you done with the persuasive arguments yet?"

"Just one more."

She quirked an eyebrow.

"I'd like to meet your father."

Startled, she propped herself up on her elbows. "You would?"

"Of course I would."

"But . . . he's not really my father, you know. I mean, he is biologically, but . . . I only met him once. And it was really awkward at the time. There was so much going on. . . ." When Darien didn't respond, she added, "I guess it might be nice meeting him with my mother there."

"It'd be good for you. Offer closure, or something."

"Thanks, Dr. Darien. But why do you want to meet him?"

"I just figured, being a fairy-tale king and all, he's probably old-fashioned."

"So?"

"So. This might be the only chance I ever get to meet him." His lips quirked. "And I thought maybe I should ask for his blessing."

Serena's breath snagged, but his teasing smile caught her off-guard. An almost-relieved laugh escaped her, and she smacked him hard on the shoulder, then fell back onto the sand. "You're only saying that because Melvin gets to marry a princess."

He chuckled. "Maybe I am a little jealous."

"You weren't supposed to admit it!"

"But . . . you're technically a princess too, aren't you?" He was still grinning, but it had a sudden seriousness to it as he looked down on her, a faint intensity behind his gaze.

Her heart thumped. "Darien . . ." But no further words would form.

He looked away.

After a silence in which Serena stared at Darien and he avoided looking back at her, he reached into a pocket and pulled out the golden locket.

"I believe this is yours," he said, handing it to her.

She took it with both hands, rubbing her thumbs over the engraved surface. "Actually, it's my mom's."

She pried it open with her fingernail and looked at the tiny portrait of herself and Darien and Melvin. How happy she had been that day. How bold her smile. How bright her eyes.

And Darien, caught mid-laugh, though the joke was now forgotten, could not have looked more charming.

And Melvin . . . sweet, self-conscious Melvin.

"We look so normal here," she said. "And now look at us. A Guardian, an elf king, a . . ." Her gaze slid to Darien, who raised both eyebrows at her. "A knight in shining armor?"

"Yeah," he said with a snort. "I'm a real tyrant with a sword."

She returned her gaze to the locket.

"Really," Darien said, gesturing out at the water, "who wants normal when they can have all this?"

She slowly sat up again, taking in the frothing white foam beneath the waterfall, the dense forest just beginning to turn red and gold with the change of season, the bright blue sky that looked down upon kingdoms and magic and dwarfs and elves and kings and queens and—

"I do." She folded her arms around her knees, mindlessly fingering the chain of the locket. "I still want to go to college. And have our apartment together. And . . . and just be normal. And happy."

She felt Darien tense at her side. "And . . . maybe date a normal, regular guy, who can't fight with a sword and doesn't know any magic spells and isn't even a real prince?"

She eyed him, expecting another joke, but he was all sincerity now.

He sat up, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. Serena stared at his profile, watching as he pulled his feet from the water and dug them into the sand.

"Honestly," she said, "that doesn't sound half bad."

His gaze met hers, turbulent as he searched for words. "I know that you and Endymion . . . that you were . . . well . . ."

"In love?" she offered.

He said nothing. For a moment, she was tempted to laugh at his miserable expression, but managed not to.

"I saw him," she said. "When I died. He was . . . waiting for me."

Darien frowned, more than a little disbelieving. Then his features softened, as if he realized it would not be the strangest thing that had happened. "You saw him? For real?"

She had expected, perhaps, jealousy, but Darien's curiosity surprised her.

She nodded. "And I finally had a chance to say goodbye. It's like . . . for two years I've had this constant pain in my chest, like something was missing. And being with you started to change that, but at the same time, the more . . . the more comfortable I became with you, the worse I felt. Like I was betraying Endymion."

Darien sucked in a pained breath, and she scooted closer to him until their shoulders touched.

"But that's gone now. I feel whole again. And weightless. And . . . and happy. Seeing Endymion again was so . . . so . . ."

She paused. Darien was not looking at her. Rather than appearing pleased, he looked dark and sullen. Reaching up, she turned his face to her.

He avoided looking at her at first, but when he did, she saw him gulp harshly and pry his lips open.

"Serena, I . . . I love you. You must know that by now. I would do anything for you."

She stiffened. She wasn't surprised by the words, and yet hearing them from his own mouth was so much different than hearing them in her imagination. So much warmer. So much stronger. So real.

"But . . ." he continued, ". . . I'm not him."

These words did surprise her, and she almost could have laughed. "You think I don't know that?" She tied her arms around his elbow and squeezed up against him, seeking his warm, and the intimacy she'd so long been denied. He remained tense, uncertain, but seemed to slowly melt against her touch. "Darien, I've been falling for you for a very long time. Even before I came to Aysel in the first place. And now, not only do I feel closer to you than ever before, but suddenly it's like I have my heart back, and I'm free to give it to anyone I choose. And—"

She was silenced by Darien's hand on her cheek, the calming touch in such opposition to her racing pulse.

His thumb was velvet on her skin. His fingertips traced the dip of her temple, the curve of her ear, the line of her jaw.

A shiver raced down her spine, and a brief, hesitant smile blossomed on her lips. "Darien, I . . ." She hesitated, her stomach tightening. The familiar sensation of her guardian's power lingered hot and electric at the base of her spine and the sudden fear of losing it again, of sacrificing the gift of magic, nearly halted her tongue.

But she met Darien's gaze, part hope, part worry, and secretly prayed that he was right. Maybe this time the fates would make an exception.

Her lashes fluttered, the smile returned—almost shy now. "I love you," she whispered, slowly, relishing the words, relishing the almost indistinguishable widening of Darien's eyes.

The magic in her core surged hot through her veins, but just as quickly settled down again. She let out a breath of relief. She was still a Guardian, and she was still in love.

Again.

A heartbeat passed.

"So . . . what would you say if I were to ask you out to dinner when we get home?"

She half-laughed, the question so trivial, and so perfect. "A resounding yes."

Darien dipped his head, his black bangs barely hiding his smile. "And if I were to try to hold your hand in the movie theater?"

"Hold hands?" she said with a laugh. "What are we, thirtee—?"

She was silenced by tender lips, muffling her gasp.

The kiss turned into two and then three, before Serena could even begin to think. Serena hardly noticed when he gathered her up in his arms, or when they fell back down to the shore, or when his fingers entwined in her sandy hair. She didn't notice the drums or the fireworks or the drunken singing in the distance. She didn't notice the sun blazing on the horizon or the fine, cool mist from the waterfall.

But she did notice when he pulled away, and how her entire body tingled—she couldn't tell if it was from the magic inside her, or if that was just the way she was supposed to feel.

"I should have done that a long time ago," he murmured against her.

Serena smiled, half-delirious. She thought of all the times she had wished he would kiss her. Before, the hope had always brought a tinge of guilt and panic.

But now, with the bars finally gone from her heart, only the hope remained.

"Actually, your timing is perfect."

And they lived happily to the end of their days.

Please review.

Again, I must give my most fervent gratitude to KaitlynFall, who beta'd and edited and had a ton of awesome ideas and suggestions every step of the way. This story wouldn't have been half as good without her. [She's also just a really awesome person and writer and you should all go read her stories, and no, I'm not just saying that because she keeps using characters from To the Gentleman in the Back. ^_^]

ANNOUNCEMENT: December 7, 2010

Hey everyone! Guess what!

I am going to be published!

My debut novel, CINDER, is scheduled to be released from Feiwel & Friends (an imprint of Macmillan) in Spring 2012, under my real name Marissa Meyer.

Here's the summary as posted in Publisher's Weekly:

"In Cinder, the first book of the futuristic, fairy-tale inspired series, Cinderella is re-envisioned through teen heroine Cinder, part girl and part machine, who must piece together her mysterious past before she can fulfill her destiny and save the kingdom from an otherworldly enemy. Cinder finds allies loosely based on other fairy-tale characters-Little Red Riding Hood (Scarlet), Rapunzel (Cress), and Snow White (Winter)-as they join forces to conquer evil and find their happily-ever-afters."

You can stay updated by visiting my blog or signing up for my newsletter (links on my profile).

So many of you have been following my stories since I started writing (twelve loooong years ago!) and I'm so thrilled to be able to share this news with you. I hope you will read and enjoy CINDER, the entire Lunar series, and all my novels in the future!

With endless love and gratitude for your constant support and encouragement,

Alicia Blade

a.k.a. Marissa Meyer