[A/N] For once, I won't waste time with introductions. I shall just invite you to go forth... and read the last chapter.

[DISCLAIMER] I do not own The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim or anything related to it; that's Bethesda's deal, not mine (sadly). I also do not own "After the Storm" by Mumford and Sons. However, Kajsa Red-Blade is my original character, and she belongs to me.


And I took you by the hand,
And we stood tall
And remembered our own land
What we lived for.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears,
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

"After the Storm," Mumford and Sons

"Well?" Babette asked impatiently, practically bouncing up and down in anticipation. "How do you like your wedding dress?"

Kajsa slowly turned around in front of the full-length mirror, craning her head over her shoulder to try and get a better look at what she was wearing. The dress itself reminded her of the gown that Niranye had stolen from Radiant Raiment for her – same color that she and Ulfric both loved, same material that whispered against her skin – but the skirt was longer and the sleeves looser, the neckline narrower and deeper, and the hem and collar both displayed skillful, elaborate embroidery in silver thread. The long, sleeveless robe over it was the grey of storm clouds, and it was trimmed in sleek, dark fur that drank up the light. Both garments were loose in their construction, the robe much more so than the gown, but both flattered her immensely.

It was an outfit fit for a queen; of that there was no doubt. And yet, in all this finery, she felt like a stranger in her own body, like a young girl trying on her mother's too-large clothes.

"It's –" the Dragonborn struggled for words "– very nice. Much nicer than what I'm used to wearing –" She sighed irritably. "I look – I don't look like myself."

"That's the point," the vampire said. "You can't wear your armor to your own wedding, let alone both your wedding and your coronation, so you need to look pretty and make everyone else present pea-green with envy. Besides," she added, "I'm not sure if you've realized this, but what a queen wears one day is a fashion trend the next day. And I'm not going to let you wear armor on today of all days."

Kajsa raised her eyebrows, but huffed. "Fine. I suppose this is what I deserve for letting you pick my wedding dress."

Karliah smiled. "Kajsa, stop worrying. You look lovely."

"I'm not worrying," the Dragonborn said flatly.

Babette shrugged. "If you say so. Now, come sit down over here so I can fix your hair."

Turning away from the mirror, Kajsa sat down in the chair that the assassin had pulled out, curling her hands in her lap. She could feel the tugging at her roots as Babette started to drag a brush through her sleep-rumpled hair, but she ignored it. Closing her eyes, she focused on hearing what was outside the small chamber just off the main hall of the Temple of Talos: soft footfalls, hushed and reverent voices, the rustling of fine clothes as people stood and sat and moved about.

They're all here for the wedding and the coronation. Her throat tightened. And while I know some quite well, some of them are virtual strangers to me...

While both she and Ulfric had wanted as small a wedding as possible, the jarl had grudgingly invited the other jarls of Skyrim, save for Elisif – who's not getting out much these days, she added with a grim smile. Upon Ulfric's command, the former Jarl of Solitude had been stripped of her title and imprisoned after the Moot when a treasonous letter from her to the Aldmeri Dominion had been intercepted at the border, and she was currently awaiting trial: a task that would require yet another meeting of the Moot before the year was out.

Less than a month after the Moot, not yet High Queen – and already making so many decisions. The Dragonborn sighed again, more resigned than anything else. But then again, this responsibility may be easier than those in the past, especially since I am free of other obligations.

As tiny fingers began to work through her hair, Babette's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Sister, is it true that you've made Nazir the official leader of the Brotherhood?"

"Yes. It is true." Kajsa kept her voice as even as possible. "Why do you ask?"

"Just for confirmation," the vampire said innocently.

"Babette..." the Dragonborn warned.

"Fine," the assassin pouted. "It's just that I thought you would continue to run the Brotherhood from afar, like you've done in the past. I mean, you are the Listener, after all..."

"We've spoken of this before, Babette," Kajsa rejoined, her voice lowered. "Ever since I began to cut off my ties to the Daedra, the Night Mother spoke to me less and less, and then when I was... captured, the connection vanished entirely. She hasn't said a word to me since then, and she probably never will."

She could practically hear Babette's frown as the little girl continued to braid her hair. "So... you think the Night Mother is looking for another Listener?"

"One that will be more constant than I," the Dragonborn confirmed wryly.

"You may not be the Listener – or not think that you are – but you're still my sister. You'll always be a part of the Brotherhood, just... one that's not there," the vampire said quietly. She glanced over at a silently listening Karliah. "Has she done this to the Thieves Guild, too? Giving up her leadership?"

The Dunmer nodded. "Bryn's still in denial."

"As his Second, you're going to have to beat it into his head that he's the Guildmaster now, not me," Kajsa ordered sternly, but she smiled as she said it. "Promise me that, Karliah."

"I shall." Karliah shifted her weight from one leg to the other, the skirt of her velvet dress swishing over the stone floor. "If you don't mind me asking, Kajsa: what of the Companions?"

"I visited them when I was in Whiterun for the Moot," the Dragonborn replied curtly. "They have another Harbinger now."

In truth, it hadn't been much of a visit. She'd slipped into Jorrvaskr late in the evening to find the Circle members gathered in the main hall, and she'd stayed long enough to approach them, tell Vilkas that he was Harbinger, give him the sack containing the rest of the Glenmoril witches' heads, and then walk out before anyone could accost her. To her surprise, she was experiencing very little regret over it. Vilkas and I have a strained relationship, but he'll make a better Harbinger than I. I didn't even belong in Jorrvaskr in the first place.

Thankfully, the Dunmer did not inquire further on that matter. "It would seem that you are quite earnest in taking on the mantle of High Queen, then."

"Judging by the amount of paperwork I've had to sort through and the number of decisions I've had to make in the past few weeks, it's going to be a taxing job," Kajsa said dryly. "I need to focus my attention on that."

Karliah smiled. "Well, if you should ever need the assistance of the Guild, do not hesitate. We will be at your service."

"As will the Brotherhood, I'm sure," Babette chimed in, stepping away. "Go on, sister. Take a look." She grinned proudly. "You look pretty."

Leaning forward to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror, the Dragonborn stared at her reflection for a time. The assassin had plaited her hair back from her face and swept it into a small braided coil at the nape of her neck, turning her ragged, shoulder-length hair into something that was actually presentable.

Kajsa turned her head, returning the vampire's gesture. "Thank you, Babette."

"Are you ready, Kajsa?" Karliah inquired. "Your guests might be getting impatient."

"Of that, I have no doubt. Babette –" she addressed the assassin again "– could you go get Brynjolf and tell him it's time?"

Babette nodded and scurried out of the chamber.

Crossing her arms loosely over her chest, the Dunmer scrutinized her fellow thief for a moment. "Are you ready, Kajsa?" she asked quietly.

The Dragonborn looked up, surprised at her question. "What do you mean?"

"Are you ready for this?" Karliah repeated. "Getting married, being High Queen, being a mother... last time we spoke, you seemed overwhelmed by the life before you."

Kajsa's pensive eyes rested on the other Nightingale for a long time. Then: "You know, I keep thinking this is – that this is a dream. I know it's not; I know it's all real, but..." She fell silent for a moment. "If it were a dream, this is the best dream I've had in a while. Alduin's dead, Orthorien's dead, I'm free of most of the Daedra... and I can live without fate dictating what I do.

"I've reconciled myself to the fact that I can never go back to the life I had before I returned to Skyrim – and I know now that I can stop dwelling on the past." She stood. "My future is ahead of me, Karliah... and I intend to seize it."

The Dunmer smiled. "Then I wish you all the best. Good luck, Kajsa... and enjoy this day." She hugged her tightly, and then released her. "Farewell for now. I must go take my place – and so must you."

"I second that," Brynjolf agreed, striding in. "Everyone's in their seats, lasses. It's time for you –" he pointed at Karliah "– to go sit down with the others and for you –" now he pointed at Kajsa "– to make your grand entrance."

"Well, what have you been doing all this time?" Karliah asked pointedly.

"A little light fishing," the former Second answered, grinning slyly. "Just warming up for the reception. So, Kajsa –" he turned his attention back to the Dragonborn "– Babette said that you wanted to see me."

"Yes. I realized I forgot to give you these." Reaching around to the table behind her and snatching up a small leather pouch, she tossed it at him. "And don't even think about giving those back to me. They're yours now."

Opening it, Brynjolf pulled out a key and the Amulet of Articulation. He examined them briefly and then dropped them back into the pouch, heaving a sigh. "All right, lass. Whatever you say. Even though I'm Guildmaster, I still take orders from you."

"Well, you should," Kajsa said teasingly. "After all, I'll be a queen soon."

"Aye. That you will." Tucking the pouch into a hidden pocket in his dress clothes, the new Guildmaster gave his predecessor a gentle push. "Go on out there and get married, lass."

Nodding, the Dragonborn gathered up the skirts of her dress and carefully walked to the doorway into the temple. Letting the fabric fall again, she smoothed it out hastily, took a deep breath, and stepped over the threshold.

From the back, she could see that the pews were packed with all manner of people, from jarls and nobles to fellow Guild members; Brynjolf and Karliah had quickly slipped into the last open seats next to Delvin and Vex. Babette was near the back with Nazir, and she glimpsed all three members of the Circle up nearer to the front.

At the base of the shrine of Talos by the orange-robed priest of Mara was Ulfric: standing tall and proud in his finest fur-trimmed robes, looking like royalty already. His eyes caught hers – and almost immediately, the crowd turned around to see her standing there by the doorway.

Lifting her chin up a little higher, Kajsa began to walk down the aisle: slowly, in a stately manner, just like she and Karliah and Babette had practiced the day before. She felt everyone's eyes on her as she passed by the rows of pews one by one, yet she did not acknowledge them. Her gaze was on the man waiting for her.

And after what seemed like an eternity, she reached him and stood by his side. The jarl smiled and then they both turned to face the hooded priest.

"It was Mara that first gave birth to all of creation and pledged to watch over us as her children," the priest began. "It is from her love of us that we first learned to love one another – and it is from this love that we learn that a life lived alone is no life at all."

The Dragonborn swallowed. Sensing her discomfort at the words, Ulfric grasped her hand and squeezed it slightly.

"What is love?" the priest continued. "It takes many forms and speaks many languages, but we can all identify it for what it is: kind, patient, forgiving, steadfast. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. And it is what holds us together – parent to child, husband to wife, king to country – for love never fades and never dies.

"We gather here today under Mara's loving gaze to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and the next: in prosperity and poverty, in joy and hardship, in peace and war." The priest paused, looking back and forth between the two of them before his gaze settled on the jarl. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm: do you agree to be bound to this woman in love, now and forever?"

"I do," Ulfric answered, smiling at Kajsa. "Now and forever."

The priest turned to the woman in question. "Kajsa Stormblade, Dragonborn: do you agree to be bound to this man in love, now and forever?"

"I do," she said softly, momentarily startling herself with how different it sounded to her. "Now and forever."

Nodding in approval, the priest held up his hand, displaying two bands, each one woven of tiny golden strands and carved with runes. "Then I present the two of you with these matching rings, blessed by Mara's divine grace. May they protect each of you in your new life together."

He indicated that each of them should hold out their hands. Both the jarl and the Dragonborn obeyed, and the priest slipped the bands onto their fingers, taking extra care around Kajsa's engagement ring.

"Under the authority of Mara, the Divine of Love, I declare this couple to be wed," the priest announced, then turned to Ulfric. "You may now kiss the bride."

Wrapping his arm around her waist, the jarl pulled her close to him and kissed her. In the midst of the cheers and the sighs from the crowd, Kajsa found herself winding her arms around his shoulders like she'd done so many times before and kissing him back.

"Neh il zey shur, Ulfric," she whispered against his lips. I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.

Breaking the kiss, but still keeping his arm around her and his hand on her waist, the jarl smiled warmly. "Zu'u keit, dii lokal."

His hand slipped from her body and wound around her own hand again as they turned back to the front, the jubilation of the crowd behind them finally dying down. The priest bowed his head in acknowledgement, and then stepped away from the shrine to make way for Vignar Grey-Mane, followed by a beaming Heimskr. The priest reverently set down on the shrine what he'd been carrying – a cushion bearing both the Jagged Crown and a diadem of beautifully carved dragonbone – and then took his place by the Jarl of Whiterun's side.

"Today is a glorious day for Skyrim," Vignar began, "for on this day, Skyrim gains a High King and Queen. Just as they have been united under the eyes of the Divines, so shall this land and her peoples be as one under their reign. May they rule for many years." He looked from Ulfric to Kajsa and then back to Ulfric. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm: are you prepared to take the oath?"

"I am," the Jarl of Windhelm replied.

"And you, Kajsa Stormcloak, Dragonborn: are you prepared to take the oath?" the Jarl of Whiterun asked, turning to her.

The Dragonborn nodded. "I am."

"Then kneel."

Both Ulfric and Kajsa knelt down on the stone floor of the temple, raising their heads. The solemn statue of Talos loomed over them, and Kajsa couldn't help but wonder if that was the intent of having them kneel: to have them know that the Ninth Divine was watching them.

"Now you say the words which have been spoken by every ruler of Skyrim since the days of Ysgramor himself," Vignar intoned. "Repeat after me: I do swear my blood and honor to Skyrim and her people, from now until the end of my days."

"I do swear my blood and honor to Skyrim and her people," the two of them murmured, "from now until the end of my days."

"I swear to rule wisely and justly and to uphold the laws of this land," the Jarl of Whiterun continued. "I swear my sword and my shield to Skyrim's protection, and may I be first to defend her from her foes and last to quit the field of battle."

"I swear to rule wisely and justly and to uphold the laws of this land. I swear my sword and my shield to Skyrim's protection, and may I be first to defend her from her foes and last to quit the field of battle." Their interwoven voices echoed in the still of the temple.

"May this oath bind me to Skyrim and her people until my soul is called to Sovngarde," Vignar finished. "This I swear, and may Talos be my witness."

"May this oath bind me to Skyrim and her people until my soul is called to Sovngarde. This I swear, and may Talos be my witness." Their oath complete, the two of them fell silent.

The Jarl of Whiterun nodded at Heimskr, and the priest of Talos lifted up the Jagged Crown from the cushion and stepped forward, lowering it onto Ulfric's head. Turning back to the shrine, he picked up the diadem and then placed it on Kajsa's head before stepping back, looking as though he would burst with pride at any moment.

"Then rise, Ulfric and Kajsa Stormcloak," Vignar proclaimed, "as High King and Queen of Skyrim!"

The two of them stood amidst cheers and applause more thunderous than before, and they turned to face the ecstatic crowd behind them. Kajsa glimpsed the Guild members on their feet: Delvin and Brynjolf whistling loudly and Karliah and Vex clapping, the latter with what looked like a grudging smile on her face. In the back, Babette was cheering openly, while Nazir clapped beside her. Nearer to the front, Aela smiled proudly, Farkas clapped enthusiastically, and Vilkas simply nodded approvingly.

Kajsa found herself smiling as well, her heart swelling with happiness. How far I've come in a little over a year: from common thief and sellsword... to Dragonborn and High Queen. She looked beside her, at Ulfric – my husband, she reminded herself. The one who made me love again.

Glancing over, the High King offered her his arm with a smile. She took it, and together, they descended from the shrine and down the aisle, into the crowd of wedding guests and the wall of sound: laughing, cheering, calling their names.

Ulfric leaned in, whispering under the noise. "Frolok ahst niin. Pah do niin los het fah mii,"he observed,"ahrk til los pogaan zuk pekvon tireid." Look at them. All of them are here for us, and there are many more waiting outside.

The Dragonborn smiled to herself. In the past few weeks, they had taken to conversing in Draconic with greater frequency so as to ensure privacy in their conversations, especially now that it seemed that everyone around them was hanging on their every word. "Ruz mu kend ni dein niin pekvon," she suggested lightly. "Joriin hind wah koraav niist jun." Then we must not keep them waiting. The people wish to see their king.

"Ahrk niist jud," he reminded her, resting his other hand on hers. "Dii jud." And their queen. My queen.

They were drawing closer to the end of the aisle now. Even from inside the temple, through the stone walls and heavy bronze door, Kajsa heard the clamor of the crowd of citizens outside: people who'd come from all over Skyrim to see the crowning of their new High King and Queen. Once or twice, she thought she heard snatches of muffled song, notes of "The Age of Oppression" mingling with "The Dragonborn Comes."

"Mu aal engein wah Keizaal nu," she said softly, "nuz hi fent unstiid lost dii zahreik." We may belong to Skyrim now, but you shall always have my heart.

He looked over at her then; with the Jagged Crown resting on his brow, the ancient dragon teeth framing his face with its powerful jaw and prominent, rugged features, he looked every inch a king. Yet there was still a softness of sorts in his eyes.

"Zu'u los unaz wah hon tol," he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her again. "Ahrk hi fent unstiid lost ungol ol eyvir, Katarina." I am happy to hear that. And you shall always have mine as well, Katarina.

Ralof and Galmar were standing by the door, both of them clad in their officer's uniforms and clapping. However, when the pair of them approached, Ralof hastily opened the door with a respectful nod in their direction.

Galmar immediately stepped out, facing the mass of people outside. "Presenting Ulfric and Kajsa Stormcloak," he bellowed over the noise, "High King and Queen of Skyrim!"

Ulfric smiled at her. "Los hi nuk wah luft lein?" he asked. Are you ready to face the world?

The Dragonborn returned the gesture, tightening her grip on his arm. "Zu'u los nu," she answered. "Mu los zumul pahvoth." I am now. We are stronger together.

He nodded, still smiling. "Tol mu los. Ahrk pah lein fen mindok tol." That we are. And all the world will know that.

With one last kiss, they turned their heads to the door. Galmar moved aside, and the two of them stepped out into the freezing sunlight of the Windhelm morning and into the euphoric sea of faces that was singing, cheering, calling their names: Stormcloak! Dragonborn! Stormcloak! Dragonborn!

All hail the High King! All hail the High Queen!

The End

[A/N] *Clears throat to shake herself out of shock* Anyway, here are the Draconic translations that I didn't provide in-text (I finally found a translator, so hopefully, the grammar is a little less mangled):

- Neh il zey shur. (Never let me go.)

- Zu'u keit, dii lokal. (I promise, my love.)

And now... the answers to your questions! I had loads of fun answering these :)


Q: Elisif, what are you doing?
A: I'm afraid this is a question that I can't answer fully, because the answer would give away major plot points for "Corruption of Blood." All I can say right now is that her desire to keep Ulfric off the throne and to become High Queen herself has led her to make a rather treasonous and dangerous alliance...

Q: Are you going to write more about Kajsa and Ulfric? Or someone else?
A: Yes and yes. Now that I've finished writing "The Bear and the Wolf," I'm going to start work on "Vodahmin," a short fic that will follow Kajsa's journey through Solstheim as she searches for Miraak. However, it's more of a companion piece to "The Bear and the Wolf" than a sequel.
The real sequel to "The Bear and the Wolf" is called "Corruption of Blood," and it'll loosely follow the Dawnguard questline with some other miscellaneous bits thrown in. "Corruption of Blood" will feature a different protagonist, Ronan Sorleigh (remember him?), but there will be appearances from "The Bear and the Wolf" characters - like Kajsa and Ulfric.

Q: Please, please, PLEASE tell me there is another book coming!
A: There will be! It's called "Corruption of Blood," and I have a summary posted on my profile page.

Q: Are you planning on doing a second story that entails the inevitable second Great War against the Dominion? Will Miraak return from the dead and take control of the Dominion? Will the Forsworn get their revenge on Ulfric? Oh and one more thing... will we see a Dwemer robot uprising?
A: Well, I can't say too much without giving away potential spoilers for "Corruption of Blood," but I can confirm that the fic opens during a period of "cold war" with the Dominion. Miraak will not return from the dead at all, let alone take control of the Dominion. While I can say there will not be a Dwemer robot uprising (as awesome/fucking terrifying that would be), your question about the Forsworn intrigues me...

Q: Are Kaliah and Brynjolf ever going to find Mercer Frey's son like Nocturnal asked them to?
A: Yes. The protagonist of "Corruption of Blood" is, in fact, Mercer Frey's son, Ronan Sorleigh - and he and the Nightingales will cross paths early on...

Q: How did Kajsa become (I'm assuming) Blood-Kin with the Orcs (since she was once their god's champion)? I just thought it would be interesting how they would get along.
A: Becoming the Champion of Malacath certainly elevated Kajsa's already favorable standing in the Orc strongholds (mostly due to her stubbornness and prowess in battle). However, she was already Blood-Kin to the Orcs before then - but that is a story for another day...


Q: How do you write so much in only a week?
A: To be honest, sometimes I don't know how I do it, but the length of the chapter really boils down to how much time I have and what's in the chapter. What I ended up doing most weeks, when all I had to write was an average-sized chapter, is that I outlined the chapter on Sunday, started writing on Wednesday, and then finished and posted the chapter on Saturday. For more important chapters, like the one with the Embassy battle, I started writing on Sunday or Monday and held myself to at least a page per day.
So, I guess the short answer to this question is that it's all about setting deadlines. I wanted to make sure I would stick with the fic (because I have a really bad habit of abandoning my writing projects sometimes), so I set a weekly deadline for posting chapters and worked towards that. Some weeks, the writing was easier and I didn't have to worry about making a deadline as much, but other weeks when I felt like crap and didn't want to write, the deadline was a big motivation.

Q: How do you write Ulfric so well? Seriously, how do you do it?
A: As both a writer and reader, I've always been interested in characters who are painted in shades of grey, and Ulfric Stormcloak is one of those characters. Make no mistake: it's challenging to write him, but I think that part of the reason I'm able to do it is due to two major things.
First of all, I did my research. I read wiki articles and forum discussions. I figured out about how old he was (about forty-eight or forty-nine, at the youngest, in case you were interested) and pieced together a vague timeline of his life. And, of course, I played through the civil war questline and exhausted every possible dialogue option for him for the purposes of obtaining primary sources.
Secondly, I looked at how other people portrayed him. This involved me reading a lot of fanfiction - good, bad, and really ugly - and observing the characterization. What I noticed in a lot of them was that the author chose to focus on only one side of Ulfric: the noble freedom fighter or the racist, power-hungry bastard. When it actually came time to write Ulfric, I tried as much as possible to show both sides of his character so that his portrayal would be more believable.
Don't get me wrong, though: sometimes characterization is a bitch, especially with a character that people are familiar with and have strong feelings about. But I've found that knowing a few basic facts - where the character comes from, what he or she wants, how he or she changes as a result of attaining or not attaining their goals - really help during this process, and that goes for original fiction as well as fanfiction.

Q: I guess you could include a playlist for the final chapter. You don't really need to, but whatever... do what you want.
A: Other than my usual writing playlist (mostly soundtracks and instrumentals), I actually don't have a playlist that I've actively constructed for this fic: just a lot of random songs that have provided inspiration while writing. I make it a point to give them a shout-out in the author's notes or provide snippets of song lyrics before chapters, but there are quite a few songs that deserve credit for being a continuous source of inspiration (in no particular order):

"After the Storm," Mumford and Sons
"Arms," Christina Perri
"Bad Moon Rising," Rasputina
"Boulevard of Broken Dreams," Green Day
"Carry On," Fun.
"The Drop," Unextraordinary Gentlemen
"Falling Slowly," Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova
"Ghosts That We Knew," Mumford and Sons
"Hopeless Wanderer," Mumford and Sons
"Long Time Gone," Unextraordinary Gentlemen
"No Light, No Light," Florence + The Machine
"Shake It Out," Florence + The Machine
"She's Always a Woman," Billy Joel
"Sing Loud," Alpha Rev
"Stubborn Love," The Lumineers
"Turning Page," Sleeping At Last
"Welcome Home," Radical Face


Q: Do you even know how many feels you are giving me?
A: Well, you're following, favoriting, and/or leaving reviews, so I have a pretty good idea of a starting number. ;) But in all honesty, the fact that I'm giving people any feels in the first place makes me a very happy writer.

Now, on a more personal note... I'd like to thank everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and/or followed this fic, because without your support, I don't even know if it would have even become what it is today (I went through a lot of different ideas for this, and the original ending was nowhere near as happy as the actual ending turned out to be). When I first started writing "The Bear and the Wolf," I was still relatively new to this site and I had no idea it would get the amount of attention that it did. You have no idea how much your support means to me. :D

This may be good-bye for now, but it's not good-bye for forever. I have lots of other fanfics lined up, so I'll be back sometime soon. In the meantime, if you could leave one last review telling me what you thought of this chapter and/or the whole story, it would mean the world to me.

So long and thanks for all the love!