Apologies again for the wait, but here it is, the last installment! I promise to keep up with publishing chapters of Before, the story of how Jack and Merida met, and their adventures growing up together. I'd be honored if you read it! And thank you all so much again for your support. I've received so many amazing reviews that make me physically dance, it's unreal. The first part of this epilogue will be from Merida's point of view. Enjoy!

Part One: Merida's Journal

The pains began early this morning. I felt bad briefly for waking Jack, but he was immediately awake and attentive, rousing my mother and the nurse. He brought me water, held my hand, whispered assurances in my ear, made sure I breathed steadily. I could see panic in his eyes when the pains worsened, but he never let on.

And he stayed. He never left my side, and when it was finally over, we had a son. We named him Alasdair, "man's defender", in honor of the circumstances of his conception. Jack held him as though he might break, or disappear. He sat completely still, eyes closed, Alasdair pressed gently to his chest, their heartbeats mingling. I managed a euphoric tear before drifting off to sleep.

Truthfully, I can barely remain awake as I write this now, but I want to remember…and I want to have something for Jack to read when he returns. The first day of winter is tomorrow, and I know he was worried that he would be gone when our child came. I'm so glad he was here.

Neither Jack nor I knew what to expect when he changed, but I insisted on being with him. It was very much the same as it was when his powers had returned to him in the great hall. His hair was again bright white, his skin pale, his hands cold. My lips tingled with his kiss as I watched him fly away. I was already familiar with the sinking feeling of having to watch him leave, but with Alasdair asleep in my arms, there was a new heaviness to the sight, and I retired to my room for the rest of the day.

It's become more and more difficult to justify and explain his father's absences as Alasdair has grown, but just before his fourth birthday this year, our daughter Cara was born, proving to be enough to occupy his time, and mine. Jack adores them, and when he comes home tomorrow, we're having a proper birthday celebration for the both of them.

No matter how many times I witness it, I will never be able to keep my composure when Jack wears a kilt. It does suit him, I'll admit, but every time I can imagine nothing but the bright blush he had when he wore it the first time for our wedding. It's a private joke, and I'll probably never let him forget it…and it never ceases to make me smile.

Today is Alasdair's tenth birthday, and my father gave him a fine new sword. He's been teaching him to fight, and it's proved to be his strong suit. Sometimes I think it's funny how like me he's become. He even has my red hair, though it's straight and manageable like his father's. Cara is the exact opposite; her hair is as wild as mine ever was, but black as night.

I've learned over the years that Jack leaving upsets her a great deal, and decided it might be time to really explain to them why their father has to leave. I hope it might make it easier.

They came with me to watch Jack leave today, after I told them about everything that's happened. The physical change was very noticeable, and Alasdair was taken aback by seeing his father suddenly so close to his own age. Cara looked to be on the verge of tears, but when Jack knelt down and whispered, "To me, wee darlin'" as he has since she could walk, she ran to him and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Daddy please don't leave," I wiped a tear away quickly as I heard her voice, muffled. He looked at me, glanced skyward, and then met my eyes again. I nodded and he smiled.

"Hold on to me, sweetheart," he said, petting Cara's hair. They rose slowly into the air, and Cara squeaked with surprise. As they went higher I could here both their laughter echoing off the castle walls, and as they returned Jack flicked his wrist and it began to snow.

He kissed the three of us goodbye, whispering a thank you in my ear. It'll be a little easier now, I'm sure, for all of them.

My mother passed today. Jack took the children to the forest for a picnic, to try to ease their minds. We were all meant to go on a hunt today. Alasdair has become such a fine swordsman, and Cara has my affinity for archery, my dear girl…

My father does not eat, and I leave his side only to record this brief entry in my mother's memory. She meant so much to me, in ways that I know Jack will never understand. I don't blame him for not knowing, it's not his fault. Besides, I would not wish this pain on anyone.

I have scarcely known what to write, these past months…years. Years, has it really been so long? I've been neglecting this journal, I'm afraid, not for any mortal hardship or tragedy, mind you; there is so much to do, raising a family.

Granted, Alasdair has been married nearly ten years now, and Cara, lovely as she is, had caught the eye of every nobleman's son from here to the coast. She was soon married as well.

Cara bounced in, gushing about her partiality to the first born son of a Lord Graham from the west.

"Please dad, please speak with his father about betrothal!" She was positively humming with excitement, and Jack and I laughed. After much-rather unnecessary-poking a prodding from Cara, Jack finally set to work writing a letter to Lord Graham, requesting an audience to discuss the marriage.

It is a fond memory of mine.

Jack returns home in a few days. Such a change this year. I never grow accustomed to seeing him so young again, but it warms my heart to see his eyes still so full of love for me and our family. It's difficult sometimes, to oversee the castle without him, though I learned well from my mother. When my father passed a few years ago, he told Jack that he had every confidence in him to be a fine leader, an excellent father, and a worthy husband.

Jack returned today, and his human age and frailty is wearing on him. He stared longingly out the window at the sky for half the day before dinner was served. I tried to apologize once, for tying him to mortality as I did, and the look of hurt on his face was so severe, one would think I'd ripped his heart out. He pulled me to him quickly and wept.

"Please don't ever…ever apologize for this. I have everything I've ever wanted, thanks to you, and I would sooner die than change a single moment of it." We held each other for a long time after that, thankful that his parting was not for another few months.

Merida woke with a start, as she had for the past week or so, and looked out the window at the snow falling. He wasn't back yet.

She was fading, and she knew it. She was unable to write in her journal now, and found the loss of such an ear saddening. Alasdair and Cara were there, no doubt having breakfast in the hall below. They'd brought their families and come to stay when they'd received news that their mother was bed-ridden.

They visited her every day, and Merida was pleased and thankful to have met every one of their children. Cara's youngest daughter, Molly, had the voice of an angel, and came to sing for her in the evening.

Merida woke this time to a soft, warm hand caressing her cheek. She opened her eyes, and there he was, smiling and wrinkled and human.

"Hello, love." He whispered, kissing her softly.

Part Two: Jack's Farewell

Jack knew he was short on time. He knew Merida was frail, and he knew their children and grandchildren had massed at the Castle DunBroch to be there for her. He knew she must be missing him, and he cursed his immortality and otherworldly responsibilities loudly as he flew. He reached the forest just as the sun rose, and found himself running as fast as his human body would allow as he changed, finally reaching the gates.

Alasdair steadied him as he burst into the hall.

"Dad, are you alright?"

"How is she?"

"She's upstairs in your room. She's tired." Jack wasted no time. He was up the stairs in a flash, and he entered their room as quietly as he could.

She looked so small, lying alone in their bed. He lowered himself onto the bed carefully, and kissed her forehead as he stroked her cheek. She stirred and her eyes fluttered open. They were so full of happiness and love, and he smiled wide.

"Hello love."

The funeral was a blur for Jack. The bell was rung and the pipes sang sadly. Merida's brothers, Jack, Alasdair, Alasdair's son Cairns, and Cara's son Rory lowered Merida's casket into the ground, and said their final farewells.

Arrangements had been made for this day, between Jack and his son; Alasdair was to take his place as the head of the clan as soon as Jack changed for the winter. It pained everyone to see him go, and Cara even begged him to reconsider, but they knew that this was part of Jack's agreement with the Guardians. The third, unspoken condition of the deal: When Merida passed away, Jack was to resume his duties as the host of winter, and would never be human again.

Time passed, and Jack watched his extended family grow and expand until they were spread so far he hardly knew where to search anymore. His heart became colder, and he himself began to delight in pranks and mischief, effectively all but abandoning his responsibilities.

He'd not heard word from the Guardians in many, many years, when they once again approached him about joining their cause. He was reluctant and rebellious, but felt their cause had merit. He joined them.

It wasn't until he discovered that the little boy, Jamie, could see him, that he realized he was meant to aid their struggle.

"Can you see me?" He asked incredulously. Jamie nodded, and Jack's heart swelled. He could see so much of Merida in the little boy; he knew instantly that he had to be a distant descendant of their family. It was so much more than he could have asked for, and it gave him such strength to know that even now, so many hundreds of years later, Merida was still finding ways to melt his heart.

The End