Fanfic: "Memories of You" - Chapter 9 - His Father's Child

[wenn9366]

A/N: This chapter begins at the same place the last chapter began, right after the men leave to ride north.

As in "The Long Journey Home", telepathic conversations are shown in [italics].

"You don't know how you met me, you don't know why,
but you can't turn around and say good-bye.
All you know is when I'm with you, I make you free
and swim through your veins like a fish in the sea.
Follow me, everything is alright.
I'll be the one to tuck you in at night,
and if you want to leave, I can guarantee
you won't find nobody else like me."

-Uncle Kracker
Lizzie didn't sleep until after they had left, but she suspected she wasn't the only one. Even then, long after she'd gone to bed, her mind wouldn't let her rest. She couldn't forget what Freddie had said to her in the woods when she'd asked him about her memories. He'd said, "We'll just have to make new ones". We. Did he mean to imply that the ones she'd lost were of him? She thought back over all the spots that were blank in her mind. Of course she didn't remember Freddie, but there were other things...things that she'd never thought to associate with him. For a moment she let herself speculate on what she'd kept from thinking of until now. Mentally, she made a list; her child's father, where she had been since she'd come to Underland, Freddie and everything about him. The first one, her child's father, was the enigma she'd pushed the furthest from her mind. The more she learned about this gift, the more she knew what - or who to be exact - the answer was. She didn't have it, so the only answer for that would be for the child's father to have it. For the first time, she let herself consider the only possibility that made sense - that Freddie was the father. Accepting that only made other things make sense as well. Lizzie thought back to the anguished look in his eyes at Iracebeth's fortress when she had told him she didn't know who he was. She thought of the rings he still wore on his fingers, the wife he never spoke of, the clothes he'd brought her in the mountains that had fit like they were hers. She stopped herself. She was so exhausted, she couldn't be certain if the puzzle she felt she was finally putting together was true or something she'd just conjured out of her own imagination and longing for the man in question.
"Lizzie, you're being ridiculous," she told herself. "Go to sleep."

She rolled over and shut her eyes. The night waned on and at last, she began to dream.

It was the same dream she'd had over and over the past two months. When she awoke, all was forgotten, but the moment the dream began she remembered every other time she'd been there. She smiled and ran over the hill and through the field to the valley where the little boy sat in his strange crystal palace. Most of her visits had been like the first, merely sitting with him, watching him play. This time as she entered the small room where he sat, his eyes met hers immediately and she felt there seemed to be something amiss.

She knelt beside him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

["I need to show you something"], he said in her mind. He reached out and touched her forehead. Instantly she was transported into the air, high above Southern Outland. All the land stretched out before her. She could see the village in the early dawn sun, smoke swirling lazily from the chimneys. Something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. A band of horsemen - more than a band, an army of hundreds of horsemen, the black flag of Northern Outland at their head, streamed down the hill overlooking the village. She watched horrified as they rode into the street, swords drawn. Here the vision ended and she found herself back inside her dream, in front of the boy.

"Was that real? Those men are really coming?" She thought about Freddie and the others. Had they ridden into an ambush?

[Yes], he said. [When you wake, find Dyvych and tell her.] His blue eyes seemed to plead with her. [This time, you must remember me.]

The room was still dark when she woke, but her mind was fully awake. The dream - she remembered now, and not just this once, but the memory of every time she had been there suddenly blazed to life in her mind. She jumped out of bed and dressed as fast as she could, throwing her cloak around her. She hesitated a moment, then buckled Freddie's extra sword around her own waist. Lord knew what she'd do if she actually had to use it, but it eased her mind at least. She left her cabin and hurried through the dark trails to the weaver's home. If this was just a weird dream that meant nothing, she was going to feel horrible about waking her - but something inside her knew that if she did nothing, it would spell the end of Southern Outland. She raised her hand, knocked, and waited. After a few moments, the glow of a lamp lit the snow through the window, and Dyvych opened the door.

"Lizzie!" the older woman looked at her anxiously. "What's the matter? Is it the baby?" Lizzie shook her head. "Come in, dear, out of the cold," she continued.

"I had a dream, Dyvych, but it wasn't a dream," she told her quickly. "It was a vision, a boy that I see in my dreams showed me and then told me I had to tell you when I woke up."

"Easy, child, slow down. Sometimes dreams are more important than what we see with our eyes. What was the vision?"

"An army of hundreds of horsemen, with the flag of the North, coming into the village at dawn."

The woman looked at her strangely. "A child sent you this vision?"

"The same child I've dreamed about nearly every night since I've been here, but I could never remember the dream or him until now."

Dyvych took her cloak from its hook and threw it on. "Come, we need to wake the others."

Lizzie followed Dyvych through the village to the dining hall. There was a large bell on a post outside the building. She had walked past it many times, but never given it a thought, nor had she ever seen it used. Now, it's clang split through the silence of the night. A few minutes later, the women of the village began to filter out of their homes and gathered anxiously around Dyvych and Lizzie outside the hall. Dyvych waited until most had arrived then she spoke.

"We believe Remenhal's army is coming towards us and will be here by dawn." Worried murmurs and surprised gasps filtered through the crowd. "I know we thought this day would never come, but at least we're prepared. Jemma, you're the fastest rider..."

"I'm on m'way," said the girl.

"How certain are we o'this?" asked someone in the crowd.

"We can't be sure, yet," answered Dyvych, "but I'd rather be safe than dead. Jemma will ride ahead t' see if she can spot their horsemen. Otherwise, we need to put the plan we have in place. If it's a false alarm, just think of it as practice. Because of th' snow, we're going t' need to throw them off our trail. After you get ready, come back here to th' dining hall and walk around it so's it looks like we've all come together here. Then follow my trail down to th' wood-pile, but single file. Make sure you follow each other. A small trail to th' wood isn't going t' raise suspicions, but th' whole village going there will. Let's go now, everyone know whats t' do." People quickly returned to their homes to get dressed.

"I can get th' hall ready," said Angie. "I'm small enough to fit through th' roof hatch."

"That's good. Don't forget t' bolt the doors an' put the shutters up. Nothing works if it doesn't look right." The girl ran towards the building, but Dyvych called after her. "Angie...quickly and then go to the entrance." Angie nodded and ran inside.

Dyvych took Lizzie's arm and led her through the field towards the edge of the courtyard, where they stacked the wood.

"What's going on?" asked Lizzie.

"When Remenhal took over the northern clans, Illynyr worried that he might come south and try to take us as well," explained Dyvych. "We knew we'd be no match for them in combat. There are over 500 in his army and barely 200 of us, and that's including women and children. We decided we needed a plan to protect ourselves. You're about to see it in action." She stopped by the tree-line at what looked at first glance to be pieces of firewood laid in a square about four feet wide at the end of where all the wood for the kitchen was stacked. Dyvych bent over and grabbed a leather handle that had been invisible against the ground and pulled it up, revealing a trap door, camouflaged by the pieces of wood that Lizzie now noticed were nailed to the top of it. There were stairs leading down, and on the first step was an oil lamp and a vial of lighting fluid.

"Dear, you'll have to help me push the door all the way over, I'm not as young as I used to be."

Lizzie took one side and together they folded the door back from the ground on the hinges connecting the far side. Dyvych picked up the lamp and lit it. "It's a little scary at first, but we try to sweep it out a couple times a year."

Lizzie stopped her before she could go down. "Dyvych, what if it was just a silly dream? Everyone will just think I'm nuts."

The woman shook her head. "I can feel it now, too." She looked out, past the village, into the darkness. "I don't have the visions, but I can sense that something isn't right. Something is coming." She turned back to Lizzie. "If you hadn't of woken me, I doubt we would be here t' see the mornin'." Dyvych laid her hands on Lizzie's shoulders. She didn't think she'd ever seen the usually jovial woman so serious. "When I take you down here, I don't want you to come back up before we know it's safe. Not for anything. An unborn child who has the power to send his mother a vision to warn her of what is coming cannot fall into the hands of Iracebeth. Do you understand?"

Lizzie nodded. "But what about Freddie, and Illynyr, and all the other men who went north? You don't think they're..."

"...I think before the day is done, they're probably going to be more worried for us than we need to be for them."

Others now began to join them at the entrance to the hideout, lined up single file so as to not make a large path through the snow. It would look to anyone else like the trail everyone used to fetch wood. Dyvych handed Lizzie the lamp and the lighting fluid.

"If you could light the other lamps below, dear, I'll make sure everyone gets safely down."

Lizzie held the lamp to light her way as she went down the narrow staircase. She expected it to be like a damp root cellar below, but as she found the other lamps and lit them, she was amazed at the depth of skill and craftsmanship that surrounded her. The main room was nearly the size of the dining hall, and several long tables the same as the ones above lined the walls. The floor and walls had been set with stones, carefully cut to fit together nearly seamlessly, and the ceiling had been coated with something that looked like plaster to keep the dirt in place. A network of heavy beams and columns kept the top from caving in. To one side of the room was a hallway which she found led to several makeshift bedrooms, stocked with quilts and blankets, and a privy. She went back to the main room to wait for Dyvych.

Angie came down the steps and grinned at Lizzie. "Well, the hall's taken care of, I just hope they fall for it."

"I'm kind of new here, Angie, what's going on with the dining hall?"

"Well, Illynyr figured that the best way to save the village might be for Remenhal to think that we'd all boarded ourselves up in the hall, hiding from them. There's no way to see in with the shutters locked, and only the one door out, so we cut a hatch on the roof so that someone could go in and lock everything and then get out." Her eyes danced with anticipation. "Not that anyone wants them to burn the hall down, but it's a hell of a lot better than them burnin' our houses down."

"That's pretty...ingenious."

"Illynyr's pretty amazing," the girl said quietly. She blushed slightly and walked away.

Lizzie watched her go, thinking that the girl who talked up all the boys in town might be a bit smitten with the clan leader. Wouldn't that be an interesting pair...

About half an hour later Jemma, the girl who had gone to scout, came down the stairs. She was out of breath. "They're comin' all right! I let th' horses out an' told 'em t' take cover in th' forest. Lizzie, can ya' help me shut th' door?"

Lizzie followed her back up the stairs and together they folded the door back over the entrance, and closed it over the top of them and the hidden stairway. The waiting had begun.

For about ten minutes, there was nothing. Then the ground began to vibrate slightly. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath as the tremors increased and the muffled sound of a multitude of hoof beats filtered through the ground.

"There must be hundreds of them," whispered Angie.

Gradually the sound and vibrations ceased.

"Maybe they just passed by," said one woman.

"More likely they're pillaging our houses," said another.

Dyvych glanced at them and put her finger to her lips for silence. "I don't need to tell you what will happen if they find us," she said quietly.

With Remenhal leading Iracebeth's army of the dead, command of the Army of the North fell to his second, a man named Morgant. Excised from his northern clan for murdering another man, Morgant had lived the past few years reveling in his retribution over the farmers that he blamed for what had been his lot in life. Now, on this crisp winter morning, the sun already shining brightly over the hills of fresh snow, he led the huntsmen down through the silent village.

"Don't worry 'bout takin' any prisoners," he shouted to the men. "Ain't one of 'em worth th' trouble. Jest kill 'em quick afore they wake 'an lets get on with it."

Most of the riders circled around the village, forming a barrier to those stragglers they expected to shortly be running for their lives. Others dismounted, entering the houses and cabins, swords drawn, fully prepared to dispatch those left in the village as they slept. Time passed and one by one, they came back out, confused. There was no one there.

They came to Morgant. "Sir, they must have been warned. There's no one in the village."

Morgant scanned the modest streets and houses. "Oh, they're here alright. What, do y' think they've hidden in th' woods wit their babes an' children? Look at th' footprints." He rode up to the front of the dining hall. A mass of footprints disturbed the snow around the entrance to the building. "Open th' doors." A soldier strode up to the double doors and pulled, but they didn't budge.

"They're locked, sir."

Morgant pointed to the hall. "That men is where th' women folk are. Locked up all snug 'n their kitchen. Fetch some boards an' nails. If they want t' stay 'n there, they can die 'n there."

The supplies were scavenged for and fetched and the doors were barred from the outside.

"Light it an' let's go. We've a lot o' miles t' cover afore we reach th' bluffs."

Torches were tossed up onto the roof of the building and fires lit around the side walls. As soon as the blaze took hold, Morgant gave the order to move out. He'd completely forgotten Iracebeth's order to find the pregnant woman with the long black hair and bring her back alive. Had he remembered, he would have had the doors of the dining hall broken down - his error saved the ruse and the lives of everyone in the village. Several hours later, Morgant realized what he had done. Knowing if he returned to Iracebeth, his punishment would be as a soldier in her dead army, he appointed another leader to the Army of the North, and quietly hung himself in the forest.
The hours dragged on slowly for the women of Southern Outland. Luckily the hideout had been stocked with a multitude of card games and boards with pieces similar to those of chess. There was also lots of hard candy put away for the children to nibble on and a sort of grain-based ration bar for anyone who got hungry, not to mention numerous barrels of water. No one dared to open the door for fear they would be seen or raise their voices above a whisper. The consequences were too great, no matter how slim the chances.
The more time passed, the more Lizzie's thoughts turned to Freddie. She tried to take heart in Dyvych's words that they shouldn't worry about the men who had gone north, but she couldn't stop her mind from seeing them - a small band of farmers riding across the barren, windswept plain straight into the path of the Northern Army.

Why, she asked herself, why had she not seen the truth until now - until she was hidden away underground, countless miles from the one who filled her thoughts and her heart? Memories or no memories, past or no past, she knew she loved him. There was no other, there could never be another. She thought of the child from her dream - a child with red hair and blue eyes, but she didn't know if his appearance was something she had created from her own imagination or if it was the true form of the child she carried - a little boy with an uncanny resemblance to one who might very well be his father.

She didn't want to cry, not here, not when everyone needed so much to stay strong and calm, but her tears were like waves on the ocean, refusing to be held back. Dyvych noticed her and put her arm around her shoulders.

"There, there, s'no need t' cry, dear. You've doubtless saved all our lives t'day. Gwyn the huntress hasn't blown her horn for us, yet."

"I should've told him..."

Understanding shone in the womans eyes. "Ah...well, I think you'll have a chance for that still."

Lizzie tried to find something else to think about. "What did you mean? About the huntress?"

"Gwyn the Huntress," Dyvych explained, "is a legend that is as old as people can remember in the Outlands. It's said that right before you die, you hear the notes of a hunting horn and a beautiful woman, riding on a golden mare comes to bear your soul to the Summer Land." She grinned. "O' course 'tis all speculation since no one who's seen her has lived t' tell th' tale."

Lizzie tried to smile in return, but her heart wasn't in it.
They had been underground about five hours when three knocks sounded on the trap door above them, making everyone jump. The three knocks were followed by a pause, five knocks, a pause, and three more knocks. Everyone below cheered as the door was thrown open by two of the men who'd gone north that morning. The women and children climbed quickly up the stairs, into the sunshine and fresh air.
One of the men came over to Lizzie. "Pardon me, miss, but I need ya' t' come with me an show Freddie yer not dead."

Lizzie followed the man across the courtyard, towards the smoldering dining hall.
"Lizzie!" Fred screamed. "Lizzie!" Unthinkingly, he began to run towards the still burning building. Two men close to him caught him before he could get far and held him back. Illynyr ran over to him and grabbed him as well, but Fred could think of nothing but the woman and child he knew must be dead and burning before him.
"Freddie," shouted Illynyr, "Freddie! They're not there! Look at me." The man took his face and forced him to look at him. "It's a ruse, Freddie, they aren't in there. It's a trick...someone must have warned them."

Fred's eyes finally focused on the young man. "What are you saying?"

Illynyr gave a relieved laugh as Fred finally stopped struggling and looked at him. "They aren't there. We had a plan, in case the north attacked. It was meant to look like we'd locked ourselves in the dining hall. No one's in there. Somehow they found out, someone warned them." Illynyr smiled as he saw one of the other men leading the woman in question towards them. "Turn around, you'll see."

Fred cast Illynyr a last doubtful look before he turned around. A strangled moan escaped him as he saw Lizzie, running towards him. He met her halfway, gathering her in his arms and crushing her to him.

"Lizzie, oh Lizzie," he murmured into her hair. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought you were dead."

He pulled back from her, wiping the tears from her face, even as his own continued to fall. He wanted so much to kiss her, but he dared not. If she never touched him again, he would be grateful only to have her alive and near him.

"I thought you were dead," she said. All around them, other happy reunions were taking place.

He shook his head. "We never saw them, they'd already left when we noticed their camp. Lizzie, we thought we'd be coming back to a slaughter. How in the world..."

She grinned up at him. "I had another weird dream, only this time I remembered it."

He pulled her back into another hug. "You never cease to amaze me," he whispered. "Nice sword by the way."

Lizzie laughed. "Better to be safe than sorry, maybe you ought t' teach me to use it."

"Maybe so."

Illynyr walked up to them and cleared his throat. Fred stepped back from Lizzie and looked at the man. "Sorry, Freddie," he said, "but there's a man who defected from th' North earlier this year who says he thinks he knows how t' stop Iracebeth's army."

Fred frowned, knowing he needed to follow Illynyr, but wanting more than anything to stay with Lizzie.

"You'd better go. Don't worry," she assured him. "I'll be alright."

He sighed reluctantly. "Yeah, I know. I'll let you know what happens." Letting her go felt like breaking off a piece of himself. He followed Illynyr back through the courtyard, turning one last time to look at Lizzie.

"I'm really sorry, I know there's somewhere else you'd rather be," said the clansman.

Fred shook his head. "If there's a way to stop them before they get to Marmoreal, we need to know. We can't fight them."

The men who had run patrols to the north and knew the lay of the land the best gathered in Illynyr's home to hear what the former huntsman had to say. Fred recognized him from the village, but had never spoken to him personally.

"There's a way," the man began, "t' take out Remenhal without fightin' Iracebeth's army. He's th' one who'll be leading them with that damned magic horn o' his."

"How's that?" asked Illynyr.

"He can't be killed like a mortal man," he continued. "His heart's in th' possession o' th' Red Queen herself. It's said that she has it in a bag, held by a raven on a perch above her throne. Ya kill th' heart, ya' kill th' man an' mebe th' whole army wit 'im."

"Now'd be th' best time," said Gareth. "Wasn't nobody hardly guardin' th' place anymore."

"There's only about 20 soldiers left," offered Fred, "I really doubt they'd put up much of a fight."

Illynyr nodded. "Agreed. Freddie, would you be able to lead a group there? I'll take another and we'll scout behind th' huntsmen and make certain of their path."

"I can do that," said Fred.

"Everyone here will go with Freddie, I'll round up another group t' follow me south. We'll all leave in th' mornin'. None of us is goin' t' be any count without some sleep." He stood as did the others, but he motioned for Fred to stay until the others had gone. When they'd left, he turned back to him.

"If this doesn't work, I'm not sure what we can do for Marmoreal," he told Fred. "And even if this does destroy Iracebeth's army, we've still got th' other."

"Chess said the doors that I use to travel between places weren't guarded anymore. That would make sense if Remenhal's recalled everyone to join his ranks. If we're able to get the heart, I'll send the others back and leave to warn Marmoreal about the Northern Army from there. The door in Northern Outland will take me there faster than coming back to the one in Southern."

The other man shook his head. "I have no idea what your talkin' about, but I trust your judgment. Go on back home an' get some rest. Tomorrow's goin' t' be longer than today."
After Freddie left to go with Illynyr, Lizzie had gone back to the cabin. She'd had every intention of staying awake until he got back, but an exhausted, dreamless sleep overtook her the moment she lay down on her bed. She was still asleep when Fred got back.
The door to the bedroom was open and he stood at the threshold and watched her a moment before turning back around. He took off his damp shirt and pants leaving the shorts on underneath and pulled a chair from the table up in front of the fire and sat down. Resting his head in his hands, he closed his eyes and willed his tired mind to think of nothing but the sound of the fire crackling. He was half asleep before he realized Lizzie was standing behind him.

She'd woken and come out of her room to find him sitting alone in a chair by the fire, his face buried in his hands. She came up behind him and placed her hands on his bare shoulders. He must be exhausted, she thought - it was unusual that anyone could sneak up on him, but she felt him startle slightly at her touch. Slowly, she began to knead his tense muscles, moving across his shoulders and neck. He groaned appreciatively, and she smiled and stepped closer to him. She'd wanted for so long to touch him, nearly as long as she could remember him. There was something between them, something that seemed to draw them together, from the moment she'd loosed his bonds in Iracebeth's dungeon to today when she'd had her revelation while hiding from the invaders. And now, well, she wanted him, all of him, and she wasn't waiting any longer.

Every trace of exhaustion had disappeared the instant she'd touched him. Fred sat up and leaned back, resting his head against her, feeling her breathing and pulse quicken as he did. Gradually the massaging of her hands turned to caresses as she ran her fingers gently over the scars at the top of his shoulders and down his chest. For a man who'd not been with his wife in over two months, there was only so much he could endure. Her breath caught as he reached up and captured her hands. Moving one arm over him to the other side, he pulled her around, onto his lap and into his arms. His eyes met hers and he was surprised to feel her longing for him was nearly as strong as his own for her. He kissed her tenderly, and she responded, moving her arms around his neck. The rings on the chain around his neck clinked together quietly as they came to rest against Lizzie's breast. She moved her hand back between them and closed it around the rings and sat up. Her fingers trembled as she looked down at them. She knew she had to ask, regardless of what the answer might be, it was the one thing they'd never talked about.

"Freddie," she whispered, her voice betraying her anxiety, "whose rings are these?"

His dark blue eyes met hers and a slight smile played across his lips. "My wife's rings."

"Who's your wife, Freddie?" she pressed.

His smile got bigger and he kissed the spot below her ear softly, making her shiver. "The only woman I've ever loved."

Lizzie tried to keep her focus, she wasn't going to be satisfied with one of Freddie's usually ambiguous answers. "What's her name?"

He stopped and looked back up at her. "I'm fairly sure you remember your own name, Elizabeth."

He was unprepared for the joy that suddenly filled her as she threw her arms around him.

He buried his face in her hair. "Lizzie," he murmured. "my Lizzie..."

He felt her tears on his shoulder, but it was a long moment before she spoke. "I haven't even dared to hope, and yet...there's something I can't explain between us, and I couldn't tear myself away from you if I tried."  She sat back and smiled sadly at him as he brushed the tears from her cheeks. "What happened to me?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I left you before dawn to check on a guard that had gone missing in the Outlands. I woke you and told you good-bye. That was the last time you knew me."

She began to cry in earnest now, her heart broken for the pain she knew she'd caused him. He was her husband and he'd stood by patiently the last two months, saying nothing, making her fall in love with him all over again. He picked up on her guilt before she spoke. "I'm so sorry, Freddie. I can't imagine how hard this has been for you. And all the while, you've been nothing but patient with me."

"It's not your fault, Lizzie. Nothing was your fault. This was all Iracebeth's doing because she wanted the child. Our child."

She shook her head. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I was afraid it would make you uncomfortable since you didn't remember me. Mirana thought the spell would break eventually and you'd remember everything. I'm sorry, Lizzie."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for." She took his hand, placing it against her abdomen and covered it with her own. "Your child saved the village today."

"Our child...and my wife."

"Can I have my rings back?"

He laughed and took the chain from around his neck, unfastened the clasp, and removed the rings. He slipped the silver wedding band back onto her left hand and held up the promise ring. "You don't remember your promise, but you've never broken it," he said. "You promised you'd come back to me - and so you have."

"What did you promise me?" she asked.

"That I'd never leave you."

He slipped the wooden ring around her finger and smiled as he felt Lizzie's presence come to life once again inside his mind.

[Can you hear me?]

She gasped, surprised at the voice that rang through her mind as clear as day. [Yes, I can.]

He leaned over and kissed her. [Good, because we have unfinished business to attend to.] He picked her up, trailing kisses down her neck and carried her over to the bedroll stretched out on the floor, unlacing the back of her dress at the same time.

Lizzie grinned. [You seem to have had a lot of practice at this.]

Fred lay her down with one hand and with the other pulled the dress down off of her. He hovered over her, his sapphire eyes meeting hers. [Let me show you just how much practice I've had.]

And then he was kissing her, touching her, in ways only someone who knew every intimate detail about her could. Time became meaningless and endless. Her body was on fire, an unquenchable, blazing inferno that burned for only for him as his fingers raked across her flesh and his tongue traced the curves of her body. She pulled him back up to her and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him into her. Their bodies joined together and she cried out his name as he moved against her, pleasure bursting through her. She felt a shudder run through his body and he collapsed against her.

She rolled over against him and he wrapped her in his arms.

"Lizzie..." he groaned quietly, kissing her forehead. "You make me crazy." [I'm gonna fall asleep now, if that's okay.]

She sat up, pulled the quilt over them, and nestled down beside him. Soon, they both slept.