<b>Pegawen has gone to rest. Good. Allassiel relaxed as she heard the heavier footsteps walking the perimeter. It wasn't Thorgan, she could still see him laying on his bedroll. So it was Lotharn. Perhaps she could talk to him? But then, what could he say? He couldn't change the pain she felt, knowing Thorgan would die one day. How did humans do it, knowing they would die one day, lose their loved ones? <br/>
<br/>
She reached beneath the sleeve of Pegawen's robe and tugged, drawing forth the bracelet she'd worn since the day she'd fought the monstrosity that Hadron had become. How had she survived? She ran her fingers along the mallorn pattern. She tried to remember when she'd forged it, given it to him, but she couldn't. Like his face, the memory was gone. And though she'd made it for him, it dawned on her. <br/>
<br/>
It no longer belonged to him. Had it ever? Or had it been merely a symbol of her love? <br/>
<br/>
A new thought occurred to her. Did she dare? She glanced across the fire. She doubted he'd understand, perhaps it was foolish to expect it. Yet, she stood up and crossed the distance between them, setting the bracelet at Thorgan's feet. “This is for the man I love, if he wants it,” she whispered, and started back towards her bedroll. </b>