Chương 55: Chapter XV Verse I — The Reunion of Stone & River

Meredith and Galan walked in silence past the stairs to the flight deck, where Pheidon's steady hands were guiding the ship. A grand painting on the wall caught Galan's eye, and he stopped. It was Meredith, standing on the battlements of the Rock Crevice Fortress, a rune-etched war axe on her shoulder, her expression a perfect storm of fierce determination.

"Why are you staring at that?" she asked in Old Irish, turning back with a teasing grin.

"You got the real thing right here."

"Just wanted to make sure you were as troublesome as you are now," he replied.

"Well, I hope I am."

"Don't worry. You haven't changed a bit, either." She chuckled as they descended a flight of stairs, entering a vast, towering chamber crowded with relics of their journeys. There were celestial charts from forgotten kingdoms, geological surveys of entire mountain ranges, and trophies of jade and gold from a hundred different contests. In the center of the room sat a massive, ornate round table, the silent witness to countless discussions that had shaped the fate of nations.

Above them, a massive chandelier shaped like the solar system slowly rotated, its glowing celestial bodies casting a warm light. Galan remembered the late astronomer, Ptolemy, who had helped build it, a man whose life's work they had helped preserve and publish.

"They sure bring back memories, don't they?" Meredith's voice was soft, forged by years of quiet longing.

"Yeah," Galan said.

"You want to remember the good old days?"

"Come here." She led him to the table, climbing onto her chair—one with little steps added to its base for her convenience—and gestured to the empty seat beside her.

"Sit down."

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, sinking into the plush cushion.

"Do ye remember how it all started?"

"Our love or the Peacekeepers?" he smirked.

"Our rivalry, I mean.""'Course I do. You stared me down while pointing your pickaxe. Not something anyone could forget."

"But ye didn't even flinch," she said, her hand tracing the runes on the table.

"Never seen anyone laugh at a dwarf's challenge before."

"What did you say at the time?" he asked, his voice a mocking imitation of her own.

"'No soft-skinned Roman could out-drink a dwarven princess!'" He then spoke normally.

"Sounded more like a party invitation to me." She blushed.

"Ugh, stop it, Bloodsucker. You always know how to be so annoying. But to be fair, I didn't know how powerful a new god could be. Ye even drank a whole barrel of my father's strongest ale."

"And in the end, I had to carry you back to our room, all while you flailed around, refusing to accept your loss."

"I was drunk, y'know?" she scoffed.

"Yeah, I know. Took you half the next day to recover." Stolen story; please report. Meredith's fiery gaze softened.

"And before that day rolled by, we spent the night discussing the best ways to take over the continent together." The hard edges in her eyes blurred.

"I… I miss it." Galan's smirk faded.

"Me too, Meredith."

"Gal."

"Want me to hold you?" His queen nodded. She moved into his seat and fell into his comfort, his hands gently reassuring her of his presence.

"Dim the light, Gal." With a thought, the chandelier faded, leaving only the soft, ambient glow of the rotating planets. The room was plunged into a gentle, starry twilight. After a long, quiet minute, dim flashes of multicolored light began to appear outside the massive circular window.

"It's starting," she whispered.

"Wanna watch the firework show with me?"

"Sure." He rose, holding her securely in his arms, and walked to the window. Far below, brilliant chrysanthemums of crimson and gold bloomed in a silent ballet, their explosive grandeur muted by the immense distance.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"I can make it even more beautiful." With another thought, he activated the ship's sound carver, a device that allows for a song to be replayed after it has been recorded by a song gem. A slow piano melody began to fill the room, soon joined by a low, mournful cello. She hummed along, then recognized it.

"Ugh… really?"

"What?" he smirked.

"It's a bit cheesy, no?"

"No," Galan reassured her. They gazed into each other's eyes, a silent, playful battle set to the gentle melody of their own wedding song. The music swelled, and the competitive glint in her eyes softened, then blurred. She was reliving the grand hall of the Rock Crevice Fortress, the feel of his hand on her back, and the soft smile he wore as they danced. The irritation on her face vanished, replaced by a wave of bittersweet nostalgia.

"Well," she conceded, looking back at the fireworks, "it's not so bad. I can work with this." After watching a few more fireworks, Galan felt a hand gently caress his cheek, its touch firm with the strength of someone who handles heavy machinery daily. He looked down. Meredith was staring back at him, her tired eyes filled with an undeniable, yearning fire.

"Want to take this inside?" he asked, his voice low. She nodded.

"And bring the song with you." Galan carried her through the ship's hallways, past the portraits of his other wives, and up the stairs to his private quarters. The room was spacious, a familiar mix of a bedroom, a training area, and a study.

"Put me down," she giggled.

"I'll wear something nice for ye." He set her on her feet. She walked to the wardrobe, taking off her engineer's uniform as she went.

"And bring the song back like I told you." With a thought, the gentle melody of their wedding song filled the room. Galan sat on the bed, watching as Meredith stood before the open, divine vault-powered wardrobe, her back to him. His eyes traced the powerful landscape of her form: the broad shoulders, the muscular back tapering to a narrow waist, the smooth skin like polished granite. She selected a dress of deep crimson velvet and turned, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Already can't wait to begin, I see." She held the dress in front of her, the rich fabric draping over her body. It was a sleeveless gown with a square neckline, trimmed with intricate gold embroidery.

"Would this make you more excited?" A slow, appreciative grin was Galan's only answer.

"Very well, then." She turned with a deliberate, teasing slowness, stepping into the dress. It clung to her formidable figure, the open back crisscrossed with fine golden threads. She bent over slightly to adjust the hem, glancing back at him with half-closed, challenging eyes. After retrieving a final piece of black silk from the wardrobe's drawer, she retrieved something from the dressing table's drawer and turned to face him.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"You look incredible," he said, his voice thick with admiration. She blushed, then her gaze turned regal.

"Now kneel for me." He obeyed without hesitation, kneeling before the bed. She held out her hand, the ruby on her wedding ring gleaming.

"You may kiss the ring." He took her hand, his eyes locked on hers, and pressed a long, smooth kiss to the stone, a perfect reenactment of their first night. Meredith giggled, the sound a mix of pleasure and fond memory.

"Now," she whispered.

"Let's begin." She cupped his face, claiming his lips with a fiery passion. His hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him as he rose, lifting her into his arms. He carried her to the bed, their lips never parting. The song swelled, the mournful cello and bright harp weaving a melody around them. He laid her down gently on the soft, vicuna wool sheets. The world outside the room—the hangar, the fireworks, the mission—all of it dissolved.

All that was left was the warmth, the music, and the long-overdue, thunderous reunion of a river and his stone.