Chapter Text
The spring night was quiet, soft rain tapping against the windows of the townhouse.
Relena wandered into the dining room in search of wine glasses while Trowa started dinner. The Empires of Dorthithladr box sat squarely in the center of the table.
“Game night?” she called.
“Yeah, why not,” came his casual reply.
“Who did you invite?”
“No one.”
He appeared in the doorway, holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
“I figured we could… adapt.” His lips curved faintly.
“Oh.” Relena arched her brow. “Are we celebrating?”
“I certainly hope so.”
She stilled.
He stepped fully into the room, maddeningly composed, and set the bottle and glasses on the table.
“Go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the box. “Set it up.”
Her fingers trembled just slightly as she lifted the lid. Inside, everything appeared perfectly in place. She picked up the rulebook—
And gasped.
Beneath it rested a small black velvet box.
Her pulse skittered.
Trowa moved before she could process it. He rounded the table and—
Dropped to one knee.
Her breath caught.
He took her left hand gently in his, his other retrieving the velvet box.
“Relena—”
“Wait.”
He froze.
She reached up and brushed his long hair back from his face so she could see both his eyes.
“That’s better.” She smiled. “Proceed.”
He laughed softly. “Will you—”
“Yes.”
His brow arched. “I haven’t finished.”
“I’m fairly certain I know where this is going.”
“Do you?” His mouth twitched. “I was going to ask if you’ll be my vanguard—for life.”
She tilted her head. “What if I want to change classes?”
“Fine,” he said easily. “My game partner for life, then. And kitchen dance partner. And—”
He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, then looked up at her fully.
“My wife?”
Her free hand flew to her mouth as tears welled. Even though she had sensed it coming, hearing him say it aloud made her world tilt in the most wonderful way.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He slid the ring onto her finger.
Her hands were still shaking.
He stood slowly, then drew her into his arms and sealed their new, forever promise with a kiss.
“Champagne?” he asked quietly.
She laughed through her tears. “Yes, please.”
He smiled as he set about uncorking the champagne with a pleasing pop, then gave each glass a measured pour.
“So,” he asked after they’d clinked glasses and had their first celebratory sip. “Are we thinking a theme wedding, or—?”
His gaze flicked to the open game box on the table.
Relena snorted. “Absolutely not.”
Trowa’s lips quirked. “Are you sure? We could have it at the circus while we’re at it.”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, now you’re deliberately trying to make me laugh.”
“I’m completely serious,” he deadpanned. “Duo would love it.”
“I’m sure he would,” Relena said. “Good thing he’s not our wedding coordinator.”
“A very good thing,” Trowa agreed.
Then he smiled, and pulled her back in for another embrace. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his broad chest, breathing in the familiar scent that was all his.
“The truth is,” she said softly, “I’d marry you anywhere.”
“Is that so?” He pulled back just enough to look at her. “The circus it is, then.”
She tipped her head back, laughing, stopping abruptly when his hands clasped her waist more tightly. And then he dipped her, lowering his head simultaneously, capturing her lips with his.
He kissed her like he had in the safe house that night, months ago. Not urgent. Not reckless.
Certain.
When he pulled her back upright, she stayed close, fingers curled in the front of his shirt, the ring catching the warm light between them.
Rain continued its steady rhythm against the glass. The game box remained open on the table. The velvet ring box lay forgotten beside it. Two half-finished glasses of champagne glowed in the lamplight.
Relena rested her palm against his chest, right over his heart. It was steady.
So was he.
“So,” she said softly, studying the waning light dancing across the planes of his handsome face—the face she’d come to cherish more than any in all the world. “What happens now?”
His arm slid around her waist again, drawing her close, as if the answer had always been simple.
“Now,” he said, brushing his thumb over her ring finger, “we take our time.”
Her smile deepened.
Outside, rain streaked the windows.
Inside, the world felt very small.
Dinner waited.
The future stretched wide and unwritten.
And for once, neither of them felt the need to adapt.