This is if folks, last chapter, this trilogy is done. Thank so much for everyone who followed this, who left reviews or who lurked in the background silently, your support is overwhelming.

I hope this was worth the wait for all of you.

"I am hopeful, though not full of hope, and the only reason I don't believe in happy endings is because I don't believe in endings."
- Edward Abbey

Now that Jack has all his memories of his mortal life back, he recalls having exactly one conversation with his mother about the phenomenon known as love. He'd been about six, and there had been some talk in the household of her remarrying, having been widowed a couple of winters previous. Jack at the time had understood that life would be easier with a man to support them, as Jack was yet too young, but he'd always been a fanciful child, and had asked his mother if she loved the man. She'd smiled at him, and sat him down, and what she'd said next had been the best, wisest advice he'd ever received.

"Jack," She'd said; his name full of love and tenderness as it always was in her mouth, "love is not a thing you are, it is something you could be."

Jack's mother had married the man, the town shepherd, long since widowed himself, and it was that union that had birthed Jack's little sister, the person whom, as a mortal, he'd loved more dearly than any other. The years had been kind enough to their little family, until his mother was widowed again when Jack was twelve. He knew that, for his mother and her advancing age, having survived two husbands there would be no third. Jack had taken up his stepfather's crook, and set himself to work, taking over as many responsibilities as he could. By the time he'd died that fateful day, Jack had cemented his role as man of the house, and while he was still better known for his carefree attitude and prankster nature, it was also generally accepted about town that Jack was more man than child. Despite that, Jack had never thought much about falling in love himself; he had many years yet before his sister would have been of marriageable age and he could see her settled, and been free to find a wife of his own. Even then, he knew he'd likely marry more for convenience then anything, as his mother and stepfather had, They'd been lucky though, to have found a mutual affection with each other over the years, until Jack knew that their marriage of convenience had become something more.

Jack had never fallen in love as a mortal, but he'd watched his mother and stepfather practise at it every day, and it had seemed wonderful, and comfortable, and the dreamer in him had, in fleeting moments, wished for something that special.

Fast forward three centuries, and Jack had found Aster.

Jack knew without a doubt what his friends thought about him an Aster; that they were perfect and made for each other, and so in love it was breathtaking. He also knew what Aster thought of them; that they were genuine and solid, mad about each other and committed for the long term. Jack had never shared his thoughts though, not that any had ever asked, everyone just assumed they already knew and there was no need. It was obvious of course, that Jack loved Aster, it went without saying.

They would all be wrong.

Six year old Jack remembered looking up at his mother, her sweet face lined prematurely by her grief for her first husband, and the struggle of raised her son alone. He remembered the words she'd spoken, wise beyond her years.

Love was not a destination, it was a journey.

Jack did not love Aster, in the sense that he believed the love they spoke of was finite; the place where the road dead-ended, and once you were there, where else was left to go? No, Jack would never love Aster like that, his husband deserved better then a feeling that would never change, never grow as they changed and grew and evolved, both as a couple and as individuals. Aster had earned far more from Jack then something with edges, with a clear border you could see, not when Jack was capable of something boundless and unrestricted.

Jack would appreciate Aster's good qualities every day. Jack would also forgive and accept Aster's flaws, as he knew Aster did for him. Jack would cherish each uniqueness of character that shaped his husband for the person he was.

Jack would strive each day to make his husband smile at least twice, and laugh at least once. He'd do one nice thing every day, for no reason other than he could. He'd never go to bed angry, would endeavor not to hold grudges from past arguments, and always apologize when he was wrong.

Jack would learn his husband, his likes and dislikes, his passions and his terrors, his dreams and nightmares equally. There would be no part of him that Jack would shy away from, no part that Jack would be too weak or too scared to embrace.

Jack would never let himself grow complacent, or lazy in their partnership. He would never allow their lovemaking to grow boring, their conversation stale. He would work every day to inject new life into their union, while never forgetting to honour old, long-held traditions, because you can't know where you're going if you forget where you've come from.

Jack would support his husband, carry him when he was weak and nurse him when he was ill, and allow himself to be supported and carried in turn. He'd celebrate his triumphs and mourn his losses alongside him, and together they would rejoice in their blessings and conquer their trials side by side.

These were the things he'd vowed silently, to both himself and his husband at the time of their mating. It was these vows that Jack re-affirmed daily with the setting and the rising of the sun.

Most of all, Jack would never let himself love Aster the way everyone expected him too, because that love was a finished structure; a palace already built. Jack had a different castle in mind, one where the corridors never ended, and the towers stretched into the sky out of sight. Jack intended to build it, brick by brick, day by day, but never to see its completion. To complete it would be an end, whether by a death, or a separation. Jack knew that nothing was ever truly eternal, even immortal as they were; he knew a day would come when this would end, as all things did eventually, inevitably. But until that day, he'd keep creating something fantastic with every word, every deed, in the hopes that the ending would not tear down their shared monument, but give it a place of honour in the memories and histories of the world that had shaped it.

In love with Aster was not something Jack was, it was something Jack could be, something Jack hoped for and that gave him hope in return, and he was going to move towards that goal everyday without shame or hesitation. This was not a happy ending, only happiness stretching forward before him into the indeterminate future.

Jack had never counted on things ending up this way the first time he'd met Aster, back when their animosity was at its finest. He hadn't expected it when he'd been named a Guardian, nor when they'd buried the hatchet and becomes friends. He hadn't even seen it coming the first time he'd ventured into Aster's personal home, inserting himself accidentally bur firmly into the Pooka's life in way's he'd never conceived as possible. No, Jack had been surprised by his husband every step of the way. In fact, he continued to be daily, much to his delight, and Jack couldn't picture a better man to devote himself to learning a thousand different and exciting ways to fall for then E. Aster Bunnymund.

Well, maybe his friends were a little bit right, because this whole marriage thing? Jack owns this, no doubts, no fears, no regrets. Jack can't imagine a better way to spend his forever then walking towards something wonderful and comfortable; his head held high, husband by his side, and their hands clasped tight.

"There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story."
- Frank Herbert