Epilogue

ONE YEAR LATER

Ichalked my hands and leapt for the rungs. The Endless Chasm yawned beneath me, threatening to swallow me whole. But I barely gave it a second glance as I swung one hand in front of the other, quickly crossing the obstacle to the next ledge.

The crowd went wild.

Jostein had rearranged the order of the trials this year, just to shake things up. And this was the last one for the entire competition. If I won it, I won the whole thing. If I didn't, Knut would take the crown. And he was only a few rungs behind me.

Sweat coated the back of my neck, and my muscles screamed for a break. I wiped my face with a square of fabric I'd tucked in my waistband and scanned the obstacle ahead. I'd crossed the chasm. The only thing I had to do now was jump to the next rung, pull myself up and over, then climb the rope to the watchtower.

Only.

This next move—pulling myself up and over the next rung—required a great deal of strength and skill. I'd spent the entire year training for it. And while I'd managed the feat a few times, I often failed. One wrong move, and I'd fall. Luckily, I'd only tumble right back onto this platform, but I couldn't win Fittest Under the Mountain without reaching that watchtower. Knut was definitely capable of it.

I blew out a breath and flicked my hands by my sides. At this point in the competition, everything hurt. I'd heaved a boulder across an arena. I'd clattered along in a runaway mine cart, steering it to safety with pure grit and strength. I'd crawled on my hands and knees through muck. I'd even raced through tunnels, feet pounding stone, hands pumping at my sides. I had wrung out every last ounce of energy from my tired body.

Thankfully, I'd had a square of chocolate before this task.

Would it help me get up and over? We were about to find out.

Shaking my shoulders, I nodded once to myself. I could do this. I'd done it before. Exhaustion didn't matter now. The screaming crowd behind me didn't matter, though knowing Tormund was there shouting my name gave me a burst of energy. His powers had eventually come back after that day, but they'd been muted compared to before. Still, he was good enough to have competed if he'd wanted to, but he'd chosen to sit in the stands and cheer me on instead.

His support had gotten me through my endless training, especially when I'd had to do it after long days working the mines. He'd helped me bake plenty of moss cakes to fuel my efforts—enjoying a few of the tasty treats himself. He's massaged my shoulders; he'd rubbed my feet. And he'd carried me home when I was too tired to walk.

He'd been the one to teach me how to do this. More than anything, I wanted to make him proud.

I took a deep breath. Eyes on the rung, I raised my arms and leapt. The rung came toward me. I ground my teeth and gripped it hard. Then I swung, throwing up my hips and pulling with every ounce of strength I had left. When weightlessness pillowed my body, I threw my head forward.

The rung crashed into my hips, and my elbows bent at odd angles. But I was there. I was over the rung. Breath shaky, I pushed up and climbed on top of the rung, grasping the rope before I fell.

Heart hammering my ribs, I began to climb. I could hardly believe it. I'd made it up and over, and I was almost there. The watchtower was so close now I could skim it with my fingers.

With every single muscle in my body aching, with every inch of my hands burning, I threw myself up the last few inches of the rope and tumbled onto the floor of the watchtower. My breath heaved out of me, frantic and ragged. Sweat covered every inch of my skin, and I could barely see straight.

But it was worth. Every bit of it was worth it.

Because I'd just won that trial. And that meant I'd won the whole bloomin' thing.

Iheld the champion cup over my head, basking in the cheers of an entire arena. All my loved ones were there. Jostein, Yulla, Lilia, and Ragnar. Even Hita was there with her mate Tahir, both roaring their hearts out. Tormund's dragon friend had arrived in The Deep not long after Meral and Altan had taken the diamond gem to Azraak. The magic of the gem had worked. And he and Hita had been inseparable ever since.

Until a year ago, I'd never dreamt I could be standing here as the Fittest Under the Mountain, but now here I was. I'd never thought I could do something so hard, let alone win it. But if I'd learned something over my year of training, it was this. I could do hard things. Failure was always possible, but so was success. And I'd never find out which one it was if I didn't try.

And so I'd tried my little heart out.

The Wet Beard heaved with drink and dancing. But of course, The Wet Beard always did. Ragnar, Lilia, Tormund, and I lifted our tankards, cheering the end to another day in the mountains. This one was special, of course, but I'd celebrated my win enough. I just wanted to enjoy a good evening with good people and good drink.

"So," Lilia said after we'd all had a sip of our ale and our two partners wandered over to the bard stage to request a song. "Are you going to go after Galinn's record and try to win five in a row?"

"One was enough," I said with a smile. "I've enjoyed competing, but I've had to spend the entire year so focused on it that I haven't been able to do much else. I'm happy to have a more relaxed year for now."

"I thought you might say that," she said with a nod in Tormund's direction. "How are things going with him?"

"He makes me happy," I said.

"Good. Because I think he's coming over here to ask you something." With a laugh, Lilia jumped to her feet and vanished into the throng.

I twisted toward Tormund. He was heading my way with a serious look in his eye. Ragnar had hung back by the stage, where the bard had started plucking a very familiar tune. It was the one Tormund and I had danced to that time, over a year ago, when we still didn't know what each other was thinking or feeling.

Smiling, I rose to join him in a dance.

But instead of taking my hand, he knelt.

My breath shuddered out of me.

Gently, he took my hand, gazing up at me with so much adoration I could barely breathe. "Astrid Balstad. You know I adore you."

I swallowed the lump of sunstone in my throat. Heart beating madly, I nodded.

"You are my sun. My moon. The first thought in my head when I wake and the last before I sleep. And when you smile, the pieces of me I thought were broken feel right again. I've told you before that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I want to make binding vows with you. I want to stand in front of the gods and declare that you're mine. Astrid, will you marry me?"

Tears gushed down my face. I knew he loved me—he'd told me a thousand times. But I didn't think he'd want to make the vows, not the way the folk did. Shadow demons had different gods, different customs. And yet here he was, giving me this one last thing. A thing I'd never asked, never wanted to pressure him to do.

I smiled through my tears. "Yes, Tormund. Of course I'll marry you."

He wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me into his arms, twirling me through the tavern and toward the dance floor. Cheers exploded in our wake, reminiscent of the competition's end.

But this win tasted far sweeter. It filled my heart with intoxicating hope for a future I'd once thought was a dream and nothing more. A happy life with the person who mattered most to me in this world. There would be hard days, yes, but we would face them together. And whatever might come our way, we would survive it.

I believed in us.

Next in the Falling for Fables world is…

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