The deck ca alive as the ship settled fully into the harbor. Ropes were secured, the gangplank prepared, voices overlapping in that restless, familiar rhythm that always followed the end of a long voyage. Noel stayed where he was for a mont longer, letting the others move first, watching the way life resud around him in small, ordinary ways.
Garron was the least subtle about it.
He paced near the railing, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to shake weeks of tension out of his body all at once, eyes locked on the dock as if his will alone could make it appear faster beneath his boots. "I swear," he muttered, then louder, "if she’s not there, I’m walking straight to her place."
Elyra shot him an amused glance while adjusting the clasp of her cloak. "You say that like she hasn’t been counting the days," she replied. There was a lightness in her voice that hadn’t been there when they left. Not relief—confidence.
She had earned it.
Noel caught the edge of her smile as she spoke briefly with one of the crew, confirming delivery schedules and port clearances. The Northern Islands agreents were already in motion. Priority shipping lanes. Reconstruction materials at reduced cost. Long-term trade guarantees that would stabilize the region instead of bleeding it dry. It was clean work. Smart work.
Estermont work.
Elyra turned back toward the city, satisfied, her expression open and genuinely pleased. Not proud. Just content. Noel found himself smiling faintly at that. She really was her father’s daughter, whether she liked the comparison or not.
Nearby, Clara sat carefully on a crate with one hand resting over her stomach, listening as soone explained where the dical teams would be stationed over the next few weeks. She nodded along, calm and attentive, but Noel could see the way her thoughts drifted elsewhere.
Parents, he guessed.
That conversation was coming soon. Not today, maybe not tomorrow—but soon enough. The baby was fine. Stable. For once, that word ant exactly what it should.
Noir hopped down from his side and stretched, tail flicking as she looked between the docks and the city beyond. ’Everything feels different now,’ she said quietly into his mind. ’Like the world took a breath and decided to keep going.’
Noel crouched briefly, resting a hand on her head. "Yeah," he murmured. "That’s a good way to put it."
The gangplank thudded into place.
Bags were gathered. Cloaks straightened. Final checks made without anyone really needing to say what they were checking for. When Noel finally stepped forward with the others, it wasn’t with the weight of a mission still hanging over them.
The dock was ready for them.
Noel saw it the mont he stepped onto the gangplank—the line of royal guards standing at asured attention, armor polished but not ceremonial, positioned to assist rather than intimidate. Beyond them, banners stirred lightly in the sea breeze, Valon’s colors catching the light. This wasn’t a parade. It was a reception ant to acknowledge that sothing important had ended.
Seraphina stood near the front, posture straight, expression composed in the way Noel recognized imdiately. She had already moved past relief and into responsibility. Orders would be given soon, reports demanded, structures rebuilt. But when her eyes t his, there was sothing genuine there. Gratitude, unhidden.
Daemar was nearby, hands folded behind his back, looking more tired than Noel rembered him ever being. Not weak—just human. Their eyes t briefly, and Daemar inclined his head. Nothing needed to be said yet. The conversation could wait. It would be long, and it would be honest.
And then there was the king.
King Alveron IV of Valor stood apart from the others, not elevated, not surrounded by excess. He was broad-shouldered even at rest, tall enough that his presence bent attention without effort. Strength radiated from him more than regality ever could. His long blond hair was tied back with a crimson ribbon, neat and deliberate, and his red eyes—deep, faintly luminous—missed nothing as the group approached.
A man carved from power.
Before Noel stepped forward, Elyra caught his arm lightly.
"Wait," she said, her voice low.
He turned to her, already sensing the shift. Up close, she looked tired too—but satisfied, in that sharp, private way that ca from things done properly.
"You have everything?" she asked.
Noel nodded. "All packed. Dinsional pouch is full." He paused, then added honestly, "I just want to rest for a while."
Elyra smiled at that. Not teasing or indulgent. "You’ve earned it. Take as much ti as you want."
She hesitated, then tilted her head, curiosity slipping through. "By the way... you never told . The reward Noctis gave you for finishing the Second Pillar mission."
Noel exhaled. "About that." He didn’t circle it. "It’s a location."
Her eyes sharpened. "A location where."
"I’m pretty sure," he said quietly, "it’s where Roberto will be waiting. When I’m ready. When the ti cos."
Elyra fell silent, weighing the words carefully. Then she looked up at him, steady and unflinching. "Alright," she said. "Then when that day cos, we’ll be ready too."
Noel nodded, the tension easing at last. Together, they turned back toward the deck.
"Elena," Elyra called, lifting a hand. "We’re getting off."
Elena looked up from where she’d been helping Clara, her pointed ears perking. "Finally," she said with a small smile. "I was starting to think you planned to live on the ship."
Selene joined them without a word, her expression serious as always, though her eyes softened when they t Noel’s. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
Charlotte approached last, leaning on her staff, steps careful but determined. "Don’t walk so fast," she said lightly. "So of us are still recovering, you know."
Noel slowed imdiately. "Sorry."
They gathered together, side by side, and started toward the gangplank as one.
The city waited ahead of them, loud and alive, but for now, what mattered was this mont, shared steps, steady breaths.
They were ho.
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