Around 3 AM Nel hobbled out to the garden as quietly as she could with her still-healing leg and her cane supporting her weight on the hall floors. She tried hard to not wake anyone. She had put them through enough.
Sitting down on a garden bench, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a picture window facing the garden and quickly looked away. There was already a cloth covering the mirror in her bedroom. She hated seeing Morwen's eyes in her own, hated seeing the shadows darken around her --even in the small bit of light from the waxing gibbous moon peeking through the clouds in the brief reprieve from the rain.
She knew, in her heart of hearts, that she did not belong in this garden--in any place full of life. She knew with certainty that it would not be long before she returned to Morwen's grasp to be fully unmade. He had marked her and being brought back was a gift of borrowed time, but her end was inevitable and soon. She did not know how to talk about that with any of her loved ones. She only hoped against hope that the others would escape that fate.
As a soft rain began to fall once more, she lifted her face up to it, letting it mingle with her tears. She prayed -- though she didn't know to whom -- that her children, her family, her friends, all the people she loved , this beautiful and terrible world, would live. That they would win. It would not be so bad, being unmade, if she could know there was a chance for the rest of them. She would fight to build a future that she could not share and if she could return to the dragon with the hope that the others could win, even a fool's hope, that would be enough.