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When she pulled away, he wanted to rage against it, his head briefly following her hand in desperation.

“If you’re willing…” Lunara picked up a voluminous curl, wrapping it around and around her finger until it got stuck on itself, and he swore he felt it on his own skin. Felt her nervousness like it was his own. “I think I know something that might help. For all this is your home, I understand how you might be feeling, and it…it worked for me when I was a stranger in a strange place, after spending my life as a stranger in a familiar place.”

Lyriat’s earlier admonishment came back to him, and Brand let it really sink in.

She was exactly right. He was a stranger in a familiar place and he had no idea what to do with himself anymore. If Lunara could help, he’d be a fool to deny her.

“What did you have in mind?”

The remnants of their meal lay scattered about the low table, the others sprawled on his furniture amidst light banter and satisfied smiles. It wasn’t quite enough for a dozen Mags and Ferns, but they were fed. Happy.

To Brand’s amazement, Lunara was right. As she promised, all he had to do was sit there and soak it in as Hedda and Faldir traded their customary insults. As Mag told ridiculous stories and Fern challenged him to prove it. No one pressed. No one mentioned anything he didn’t recall. No one flashed pitying looks in his direction.

Normal. Easy. He even chuckled here and there.

The only damper was his own keen awareness of exactly who was missing. Lyriat denied their invitation to sup in the tower, and Nyri and Bal…

Both siblings could talk anyone’s ear off. Perfect for someone like Brand, who rarely knew what to say but didn’t mind listening. And they did it with gentle joy, oozing optimism even at the worst of times. Baldrir laughed with his whole chest and would do damned near anything for a friend, no questions asked. Nyri was sharp and witty, loyal almost to a fault, and few were as talented at whatever she decided to put her mind to.

He missed them with an ache that defied description.

Brand loosed a slow breath, once more standing at the threshold of his balcony doors as dusk settled over the Montrealm. Once more trying to convince himself to take those final few steps.

He felt Lunara before he saw her, sidling up and bringing a warmth that had nothing to do with temperature.

“Are you still alright with our plan?” she asked, hesitant.

“I told you already, you can call it what it is.” There was no heat in his tone. No accusation. “You’re asking whether I still consent to being caged during the night, and the answer is yes.”

Her face crumpled, ever so slightly. “We can wait as long as you like. Is there something you’d like to do beforehand or⁠—”

“No.” He turned away from the darkening sky to face her. “And I owe you an apology. I was an arsehole this morning when the truth is that I was glad for the bars. I don’t know what it says about me, but the only thing that really matters is everyone’s safety. I’ll stay in it the rest of my days if I have to.”

“You won’t.” A mask of determination, stark and savage, settled on her face. “I swear it.”

Burning Solyrian, he actually believed her. And if they truly had given half of themselves, shared minds and souls, perhaps he could take some of that resolve for himself.

“I’m ready now,” he said, gaze drawn outside again.

“Alright, you bastards.” Magnus rose with a performative groan and clapped his hands together. “Get the fuck out. I’m tired.”

Fern rolled her eyes. “First off, we were all listening to them and you aren’t fooling anyone. Secondly, you don’t even live here. What gives you the right to boss everyone around?”

“Ach, lass, I’m trying to be helpful,” he ground through his teeth. “Give a wolf a break, aye? And neither do you.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” she said, “but I’m not telling everyone what to do, am I?”

He gaped at her. “Didn’t this start because you were shrieking the castle down trying to tell the witchling she had to eat before anything else?”

“Lunara doesn’t count. Since twig dick is taking a break from his duties, someone has to remind her of fucking everything or she forgets!”

“How do you know whether or not he was doing all that? You were literally unconscious.”

Fern flashed a devastated look at Brand. “Because he was there with me, too, in the darkness. She spoke to me, reviving me with kind and gentle tugs, but he…he spoke to her.” She leapt into the air and turned back to Mag, hovering there. “He can’t do that right now, so I’ve taken it upon myself to make sure she’s looked after until he’s well again.”

“That’s all I’m trying to do for my brother, Fern.”

“Yeah, well, be fucking nicer about it.” She flew to the balcony. “I’ll be in our room.”