Stavanger Bay everyone, step aside; this is the last warning

Doe sighed, her eyes fluttering shut at his easy declaration. She loved it when he spoke to her any time at all, but when the words were particularly clear, it always took her breath away. He had a beautiful voice; low and sweet and mellow. When he was at ease, it always shined through.

"We belong to each other," Doe said, swallowing the lump that rose up in her throat. The words came to her again, like lines of a well-remembered song. I will be a shadow at your side; your journey will be my journey, your ambitions, my ambitions, your sorrows, my sorrows.

But the timing was all wrong, their situation fraught; Doe could not swear herself to him while her plea to Skellige was still unanswered. So she held her tongue, tucking the Vows away for later use, and dragged Szymon down until the thick fur of his neck buried her head.

"Skellige has made me Atoll," she told him, partly because she'd meant to in the first place, but mostly to distract herself from the pain coiling in her chest. "And I asked him to give you to me - to be my mate."