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[Joanna Weaver]

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The twins were sleeping in their cribs. Athlon was still sleeping, as well. Her life was almost complete, all thanks to him. In her mind, he had been the one to put an end to what she had long felt was a curse.

Before she and Isk had tried, they had lost both of their children, despite her deep love and affection for the Magnate. She had devoted half of her life to serving him in every way she could. But, ultimately she had known she could never be with him.

He had in the past spoken of his attempt to arrange her marriage to his son, in the years before the Invasion. Her father, with his greedy eyes set on financial gain through a marriage to someone else, had declined the offer. She wondered if Fate had played a hand in bringing Athlon and herself together and correcting the error her father had made.

Warmth flooded her heart as she studied their children. Her Little Miracles, as she'd come to call them. Each a beautiful blend of their parents and she felt blessed. Each time she gazed at one of them, love welled within her. Love for them, love for what they represented, and love for Athlon.

Athlon. With such an intimate history between Isk and herself, it had been uncomfortable at first trying to get to know him. She had thought it would take a decade to get past her feelings for his father. After all, had she not loved him for that long? Such had not been necessary, though.

Her love for Athlon had dominated her heart, more and more each day. He had become that love of her life and naturally. He had sat by her side in the aftermath of her torture by the drow, as she lay recovering. They had been courting for over a year. How her heart had swelled when she held their children for the first time. His devotion had been proven time and again.

So when he had asked her that timeless question, she had naturally said yes to becoming his wife.
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"Art and architecture must combine to create something larger than either." ~ Robert Campbell