She was a quiet, gentle woman. The moment those soft eyes had met his, he'd stopped in his tracks and turned to talk to her. Yakone only hoped to find out her name, maybe where she lived. If she came into town often, perhaps he'd meet her again. Instead, when she found that he had only just arrived in the area, she invited him to her house for a hot meal. At that delicate smile, his heart pounded harder. They didn't make women like this in the city. Perhaps this exile wouldn't feel like such a punishment after all.

He rushed through the purchase of a home and jumbled his belongings onto shelves and tables as hastily as he could. But then he wished he hadn't moved so quickly when he was left with nothing to do but kick his heels and wait for the evening. He checked and rechecked his appearance in the one small mirror he had bought. He'd thought he moved beyond vanity years ago, but he couldn't help wanting to look his best tonight. Finally, he set out with the directions she'd written him on a scrap of paper clenched in his hand.

He tried to act confident when he knocked on her door, but there was a sudden stab of anxiety as he wondered whether he'd misinterpreted how she'd acted. But Mauja opened the door with that same soft smile and ushered him inside with the same warmth as earlier. The conversation was slow at first. It had been a long time since he'd cared about making someone like him. But when she began to bring out platters of food, there was something to talk about.

He exclaimed over all the dishes. Had she put all this together in just one afternoon? He gently teased her as she smiled and blushed. It all flowed so naturally as they ate. Had he ever been able to talk to another woman like this? He had to lean in close to catch her quiet words, but everything he heard only made him happier. It was an unpleasant jolt when he realized how late it had gotten. He needed to leave. But he was just daring enough to try to engage her for the following evening. He couldn't cook, but he had money enough to buy her the best possible food in town. She agreed readily, and the feeling of a genuine smile spreading across his face was a strange, foreign sensation.

It was bliss. Nobody could have convinced him there was a more perfect woman anywhere in the world. If he'd known her before, he might have been tempted to leave his business in Republic City just to come up here and court her. He'd carved the engagement necklace in a matter of weeks, but it sat for a long time in a drawer as he tried to find the courage to offer it to her. He finally forced himself to do it. Rejection would be agony, but the pain of not being married to her felt like a noose around his neck. All the doubt and uncertainty melted away when she saw it. She touched it with shaking fingers, and as he tied it around her neck she cried and smiled through the tears. At that moment he was certain he was the happiest man to have ever lived.

He was wrong. The happiest moment was the first time he saw his wife holding their son. "Noatak," he whispered as he looked down at them. Mauja touched his cheek gently as he watched the baby sleep, and he bent to tenderly kiss her. He sat there for a long time, sometimes holding Noatak, sometimes watching his wife gently rock him. He stroked her hair as she leaned against his side and looked around the room. This house, that he had built for them to share. This house stocked with food and furs from the animals he had hunted. This home he had made for their family. This home where his son slept and his wife watched him with adoring eyes. This. This was happiness.