Page 152 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
Epilogue
She was crowned the week after her eighteenth birthday, a hastily-arranged, unceremonious coronation, with very little in the way of pomp or tomfoolery.Her advisors were keen to get it done as soon as possible, and she was keen to avoid an expensive fanfare reminiscent of Bianca’s days.
There would be parties at some point. Perhaps for the wedding. But not while food was still scarce and she was working on adjusting the tax rate for the nobles, ensuring none bled their subjects to line their own purses.
The citizens of Aberthor danced all night, but Eirwen retired early to her chambers and spent half the next morning in Cole’s arms while he made hideously embarrassing comments at the maids that came to rouse them.
“I hate you,” she groaned.
“You do not, and well we both know it.”
Onyx banged on the door, and he fell out of bed.
Despite the frosty beginning, Onyx did eventually warm up to Cole, moving from, “Eira could have picked worse,” to “you are a tolerable son-in-law” to “you’re a good father” which made Cole tear up although he never admitted it to anyone but Eirwen.
“I was so worried I would mess that part up.”
Eirwen smiled, resisting the urge to tell him there was still time, and cupped his face in her hands. “I know,” she said, “but there was never any doubt in my mind.”
To say that Cole adored his children would be an understatement. The words did not exist to express the utmost devotion he had towards them, from the moment his firstborn –Niamh, of course– was placed in his arms. His visits to his mother had been few before her birth, but they grew in frequency afterwards. Although she never filled the role of grandmother –a position amply filled by Garnet– she was eventually permitted to meet Niamh, and the next two that followed, Opal and Jet.
Soon after, Eirwen had her moved to a house in the country, where she could live out the remainder of her years in something like peace. It was not in Eirwen’s nature to bear grudges, but sometimes she still felt the shadow of her presence in Cole, the invisible longing for the mother he thought he had.
They split their time between Aberthor and Florin, a country Eirwen came to adore, conceding that the beauty of the lush green land rivalled that of her cold, pristine realm. They prepared both for the eventual dissolution of the monarchy, but were such excellent governors that they were persuaded to remain for an additional ten years.
After Eirwen finally abdicated, Onyx began the process of reuniting the dwarves and restoring the kingdoms Under the Mountain. Eirwen, Cole and their children were of course frequent visitors. They belonged everywhere. In the city, in the palace, in Florin, Under the Mountain. Home truly was whenever they were welcomed, although their main residence became a large, purpose-built cottage in the woods, designed with exceptionally tall ceilings at Cole’s behest.
Marie rarely left the palace, even after they did, serving as court librarian and writing sordid romanceson the side, a few of which were a little too close to real life in places. She did occasionally travel and spent some time in the Underground for a change of scenery and to inspire new ideas. The dwarves adopted her as readily as they did Eirwen.
The Huntsman and Wren moved back to the homestead and raised horses alongside their children, coming over every other weekend to reminisce about old times, every dark memory eclipsed by the hundreds of happy occasions between.
Eirwen still told Cole she hated him more often than she told him she loved him,but as she only meant it a tiny fraction of the time, and showed her affection in a thousand other ways, Cole took it.
“I could spend the rest of my life teasing you quite happily,” he told her one evening in late summer, as they sought a moment’s peace from the children.
Eirwen grinned, and kissed him as though they were still young and sillyand Onyx would be hammering down the door at any minute. “I thought that was the plan?”
And so they lived happily ever after.
Most of the time.
The End
