Guardian (Sequel to Fearless)

Epilogue

A/N -- Here we are! This is it, guys!

First thing, the song is "Learn to Let Go" by Kesha. If you haven't heard it yet, do yourself a favor. For maximal effect... once you read the final words of this chapter, give it a listen.

Second, DO READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE I'LL POST AFTER THIS. It's got IMPORTANT ANNOUCEMENTS YA'LL. Trust me, you don't want to miss it. :)

Here we go. The final chapter.

Also, would love to her you guy's thought on it before you move on to the Author's Note ♥

Three months later:

Rhalla stood in front of a large mirror, staring at herself. For now, it was only her in the room. It had been a long time since she'd been nervous -scared, maybe, but not nervous. She was today. In a matter of hours, she would make the biggest commitment of her entire life. She'd loved Azabela for so long -and now she would vow herself to the huntress forever.

Rhalla's eyes fluttered over to her Remordan formal robes that had given to her for her wedding ceremony, considering that she was no typical bride. The woman chuckled. They were still folded under the book she'd been writing. They would stay that way today. Rhalla was already dressed.

She faced herself again.

The short hair on the top of her head had been loosely curled, framing one side of her face. Three white lilies had been affixed over the other side, a half-crown over her shorn hair. The usual silver studs in her eyebrows had been replaced with little white gems. Her face was powdered, her lips painted the red of wine. As for the rest of her? A stunning white gown framed her body. It wasn't nonsensical, with a fluffy skirt and glitter, of course. It was rather form fitted and matte. It suited her well.

When she'd made the decision to wear a dress, Rhalla had been very concerned it would look tremendously stupid on her frame -like a man was wearing a dress. But it didn't. The long, fitted sleeves smoothed over her muscles. The gown's neckline draped over her collar in a way that covered her trapezius muscles well and accentuated the shape of her blessedly round chest -a squared neck that dove down at the valley between her breasts at the last moment.

To add a touch of herself, the dress's skirt split high on her thigh to reveal fitted pants underneath. The dress itself was unadorned, but the pants made up for it -their snowy fabric etched and embroidered with silver patterns. The soft white suede of her boots had been stitched in the same fashion, making it hard to discern where they began on her calves -not without giving it a hard look.

With a deep breath, the large woman added the final touch. Without a word, she slid both hands into silver gloves, covering the tattoos of PAIN and RAGE, as today was a day for neither. Slowly, she pulled her sleeves over them and wrapped their triangles around her middle finger.

Then, she was ready. With trembling hands, she dusted her waist. How many years had it been since she'd let herself be beautiful -since she'd colored her lips and adorned her hair? It turned out she'd do anything for Azabela.

A familiar voice called from outside the door. "Lass, are ye about done in there, then? Ye're takin' as long as a woman in there." Oh, Brawler, I am a woman.

There were a select few people who would see her before the wedding. Her family, excluding Azabela of course, and her two closest friends. "I..." Rhalla stammered finally, whirling away from her mirror and towards the door. "I am as ready as I'm getting, I suppose. How many have arrived?"