Esme shook her head as she stepped through into a glass room. It's ceiling height with it's great gothic arches dwarfed the previous two. There were plants in the ground, that were not mature enough to show their blooms, but it was the young tree that towered over the lesser flora that caught her attention-saplings didn't often look like this thing.

"When I first planned the conservatory, I expected to grow a few pretty flowers that my future bride would like, but we came across a seedling that changed that. You wished that you could take care of the Seeded Wife, but lamented that you wouldn't be here to see it thrive. I would be. In honor of you, I chose to plant the tree where it can be watched over. At this point, I swore to myself that I would quit placing you at the front of my decisions for my home that I was still sure wouldn't be with you. But it was like an itch. So much of you fits me."

She looked back at the smaller plants, a suspicion forming. "What else did you sow?"

"Most the flowers that filled the Alabaster park, for now." He took the chance to draw her underneath his arm for a moment, to stare at the tree that was already twice their height. "Again, I swore to root every one of them up if my lady asked me to-whomever she would be."

"Is this all, Althalos?"

"No. I could no more stop than I could be rid of you." Again the portal opened an they walked into a room of varying shades of gray. Much of it was light enough to see everything in, but some of it would be nearly pitch black in candlelight.

She looked around it in confusion. "I know you're bringing me to see how I've touched your life, All, I get that, but you've lost me on this one."

"When we argue or when you are stressed, there are certain places I catch you looking at, again and again. They always turn out to be some sort of neutral grayish color-except for me, you don't tend to look at me when in need. This is a traditional wife's bedchamber, tucked against her husband's suite. I've accepted that though I don't like sleeping alone, you sometimes do. Since you do it mostly when you're seeking calm, it's made suit your needs. This is when I was certain that I wanted you to stay, but I didn't want to get in the way of your destiny."

That brought her bitterness to the fore again. "Destiny? I have no destiny, Althalos. That was stripped from me the day my mother chose to lie with a human. The Queen has no need of me-I'm too unlike the rest. She said it would have been better on both of us if I had been born fully human."

It pushed her to the edge of crying' and he drew her back into his arms for it. "Hush, dear one, we have much more to cover."

"What have you done, All? Is every room about me?"

"No, only certain ones-things we needed and things you influenced. I'm not done yet, either. There are many empty chambers with no life to them." This time he carried them through the Frostways without lifting her, much. She pulled out of his arms to look around at a cheerful children's room. The toys were large whimsical animals with vague details. Familiar, but nothing she could place. "What are those?"

"You threw a smaller version at me not but an hour ago." His voice was over her head, but she could hear the laughter it hinted of. "It was at this point, not long before you cocooned, that I knew I was lost in you. It doesn't fit what Aelifs write of love, nor even what the more boisterous humans display, but a quiet and abiding obsession impressed you into the very fiber of my soul. Your whit-lin, as you first called it? I handed them over to the master sculptor, to have him make objects that our son could play with-and not just him. I had hopes even then. And this was the last thing I finished with before you were forced into the cocoon. Come."

Again, the Frostways opened. He was giving her no time to accept everything he showed her, but after ages of silence, she didn't dare ask him to slow down. Who knew when he would speak again? This time, it was to an office space with a massive desk. He drew her off to the side, placing her hand on the smaller surface in front of her. "Is this a letterstation?"

"My dear, this is the one from my mother's home. I had to beg most piteously for it, while you were otherwise bound. I wanted any letters you wrote in the future to be on furniture that you remember. This was the last thing of you that I had done before you took me to the hive."

"How many more things do you have to show me?" Esme was beginning to feel overwhelmed-and she didn't know if that was a good thing.

"Not many. Come."

They were outside, on the castle's grounds, in the midst of a garden. Another tree stood, and hanging from it's sturdy branches was a hammock. "This is about the most bizarre thing I've done, in all of this. It's made from the strands of your cocoon. They're impervious to the weather, and likely will outlast us both. You felt it was a prison-much like anything else in our lives-but out here: its the freedom to lay in the sunlight, to lay beside a lover in the moonlight, whatever you wish it to be-that is, anything but a prison."

The wind stirred her still too short hair, but it positively whipped his around in the air, marking him as a thing of beauty for a brief moment, but he didn't give her time to dwell on it. "Come."

She wanted to stall. It was like seeing him as he was the first time-a creature of magic, a force of nature. Forget the rest of what he had to show-she'd worship him here, forever. "What more is there?"

He held out his hand, knowing she was fighting him, but not why. "You will see."

There was no choice but to hold onto him, to follow.

They stepped through to another living space filled with furniture that would have fit the hive. Everything else was a honey-gold as well, accentuating the alieness of the room. She hated it, nearly immediately. She couldn't explain to him-not quite yet-how much she loathed her time with the ancestors. "What in the world were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I didn't want either us to forget the hive, but that's not why I brought you here, Esme. Turn around and look up at the wall."

She did, and on the wall was a painting of one of the goddesses, bathed in golden light.

"I bought that when I was young, not long after that man was sent away-she was my idea of perfection in womanhood at a fairly tender age. Of course, I never expected to meet a woman who glowed as if the sun came from her very skin-that is, until the first day I made love to you against my tether. I damn near fell to my knees to worship you, until I realized that this was not a real picture of the goddess and that you were very much mine. I hope to see you like this more often underneath me."

It was a little intimidating, as she saw nothing of herself in the painting. "Althalos, I'm not perfect."

"Yes, you are. At least at points in time, where I capture a full glimpse of your glory. If you were my perfection all the time, the world would go blind. I definitely would because I wouldn't deny my eyes the sight of you."

That got a quick snort out of her-indelicate, but at least it was a laugh. He'd take it. Of course, he had no idea that it was because she had some very similar thoughts only moments ago.

"It was at this point that I was no longer thinking of if you would be my wife, but shifted to looking to when, how soon you could be mine forever. Now, I won't take any more of your objections-not that I won't answer them, or try to assuage fears, but I'm going to marry the woman I love and give her so many children that she locks herself away in that gray room just for a bit of quiet."

He waited for a response. It took her a moment to figure out what she wanted to say. "Are you sure, Althalos?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life-including when we first touched hands. You soothe me, enrage me, lift my spirits when I'm down, and slay me lower than a man should ever get, all because you have that hold on my life. I'm telling you, that if this isn't love, I'm no longer looking for it."

She thought about it before responding. "You haven't asked me if I love you."

He had to shake his head at that-always looking for objections. "Love wouldn't be enough to make you stay, Esme. You want to belong, just like I do. I wanted you to see how you fit into my world because neither of us fit my grandfather's castle worth a damn. I hope you love me, but it's not as important as giving you a real home that cannot be stripped from you. It's a part of the intangible things you demanded of me from the beginning. I want you to love me, but I can do without that if I must."

She shook her head at that. "I suppose I've loved you from the day we met. I know I fell hard, even as I ran from you, although I kept it to myself as best I could. You insisted that it was only the bond but the pain of that didn't come until almost a week later. But the things I asked for weren't things I needed more than love-I needed them because I love a difficult man. It's been a rough path to this point, and the other things bolster you through trying times. I couldn't imagine going through all of this only on feelings-especially how low they dipped only hours ago."

He pulled her to him, and kissed her forehead, in grief, joy, ecstasy? He wasn't sure there was one feeling for what he had risked the whole time with his golden goddess. But even now, he couldn't rest in this moment. "There's one more thing, my love."

He opened the Frostways to a final place-an exercise room filled with things that she knew he used to keep himself fit. But there were other items: a lock wall, various climbing stations, things that made her life of thievery easier. That, and it held people. She looked around at them, carefully. These were her family-most of whom had left the guild before her, and some thereafter. Out from behind one of her brothers stepped the Grimhold himself.

He greeted her with a phrase she never thought he'd say. "Welcome home, daughter."