Work Text:
Aretia, Violet POV
Lightning flashes and thunder shakes the windowpanes that frame the remarkable view of Aretia by day. Inside, however, our bedroom is still and quiet in the late hour as I sit in bed, focusing on yet another tome sent by Tecarus. I readjust the strap of my Deverelli nightdress – the silk is too slick to stay up on its own for too long. I relish not just the feel of it on my skin, but even more the tug on my heart when I lay eyes on the exquisite gown. Xaden had noticed my admiration for the fabric on our journey and commissioned the gown for me. He hadn’t yet seen me in it, although I was certain I could imagine the look on his face when he finally did. I shake my head to clear it. I don’t know when I will see Xaden, and I need to focus on a cure. I return to my book with a deep sigh.
As I do, a knock sounds on the bedroom door. With the late hour it’s likely Rhi or Brennan, but neither would appreciate the view of my body in a practically see-through nightdress. I tug on a robe as I head for the door, but inhale sharply and my body locks as I feel shimmering onyx caress down the mental bond. As immediately as it froze, my body restarts and practically sprints the last two steps to the door, which slowly opens to reveal my rain-soaked shadow-wielder. He pauses in the doorway, eyes instantly finding mine, and they relax as though they’ve found their home. The flecks I find there are still amber rather than gold, but I contain my disappointment over it because Xaden is finally home. He smiles broadly, and my body tingles like it’s first year all over again. Gods, the things this man does to me. The things I want to do to him…
“You’re awake.” He quietly shuts the door, making a quick pile of his sodden pack and flight jacket, and loosening his boots. With his head down, water drips off the front locks of his hair and onto the floor. “I was hoping I wouldn’t wake you. Sorry about the mess.” He looks up and stills, noticing my body for the first time. “Is that…?”
“The present you left for me? Why, yes. It is.” I wrap my arms around his body. He’s chilled and seemingly soaked to the skin. The rain must have been torrential to fly through, and I shiver at both the cold and the thought of him navigating the storm.
“No, wait.” He grabs my shoulders and gently pushes me back to get a better view of the nightdress. His eyes darken as they take in every visible curve in the sheer gown, and he takes my hand to twirl me around for a full inspection. Was the gift for me, or was it really for him? Either way, the hungry look on his face tells me he approves. “Fuck, Vi. If I had known…I would have gotten here sooner. You are…you are…” He pulls me in by the hand still in his grasp, and his mouth crashes into mine. There aren’t words for what you are. Fucking breathtaking just doesn’t even begin. Fuck. Are you really mine? He begins to devour me, and I greedily respond in kind.
Gods, his mouth. I’ve missed him, missed this connection, and I don’t want to think of anything except his body pressed against and into mine for the rest of the night. His hands wander down, poised to raise me up to a much more enjoyable angle. But thoughts linger on the edges and I break the kiss, grasping onto his hands before they can scoop me up.
“All yours. Always. Any time, except right this second.” His eyes grow wide in apprehension, but my soft expression keeps him from spiraling. I haven’t forgotten his fears. He may have just kissed me like he has very particular plans for the evening, but I know he won’t let himself lose control in that way, not here, not now. “Xaden, go get cleaned up. Me and my nightdress aren’t going anywhere. We will be ready to hold you all night, if you’re able to stay.” The gown clings to my body from the moisture it collected from his flight leathers, and I know once he’s in the bathing chamber I’ll need to use some lesser magic to dry it off.
“Oh, I’m fucking staying.” He takes a step back, closes his eyes and takes a breath. “Yes, of course you’re right, love. I’ll get a shower, and we can go to sleep.” He reaches for the damp silk. “Shit, I’ve gotten your gown all wet – I’m so sorry.” He pauses and looks up. “I really have missed you, Vi.” His smile is a little crooked, and a little sad. I stretch on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.
“Not half as much as I’ve missed you.” I firmly squeeze his ass and shove him toward the bathing chamber door.
***
Ten minutes have passed, and I know Xaden will emerge any minute. Drying out my nightdress proved to be more difficult than expected, but I managed with a weakly-runed warming disc from the pile of practice pieces on the desk. I sit up in bed, holding my book once more, considering if perhaps my see-through silk would be too much of a distraction for this evening. But I had told him I would be wearing it, so I abandoned that line of thought, at least for now. If he asked me to change, I would. Whatever he needs from me to help him keep control of himself, I would do willingly, if not exactly happily.
The door swings open, and thankfully he is not in a towel. He is, however, in his low-slung sleeping pants, with no shirt. Gods, he’s doing this on purpose, I swear. I can’t help ogling the poor, weary man, but when my gaze reaches his eyes, he’s smirking.
Like what you see, Violence?
I roll my eyes and chuck my book across the room at him. Who needs a text that may have the key to unlocking the secrets of the venin, anyway? He catches it, his reflexes surprisingly intact for someone who has been through the ringer not just today, but for months.
“Come to bed. It’s so much warmer with you in it.” I mean it in the most literal and chaste sense, but down the bond I feel a wickedly suggestive sensation. His gaze falls to my breasts. Yep, I should have put something else on. I guess I’m going to have to be the responsible one tonight. “My eyes are up here, Riorson.”
He chuckles and slides under the sheets to sit next to me. “I’m sorry, love. I’ll be on my best behavior.” He places his palm on his heart in promise.
He begins caressing down my arm and running mindless spirals and movements across my palm and wrist. I let my head fall back and my eyes close. I’ve missed your touch. Even just this kind. Especially this kind, if this is pretty much all we are allowing ourselves these days. “I didn’t know you were coming home. Did you send a missive?”
“No. I’m not actually supposed to be here.” I face him with raised eyebrows, and he looks a bit sheepish, which I have to admit is a look I’ve never seen on his face before. “I was supposed to fly for Tirvainne, and instead Sgaeyl and I just sort of…ended up here. I’m sure they’ll be fucking pissed that I’m missing my appointment with the local representatives of the Talladium Mining Guild. But Sgaeyl and I both just…well we needed to come home.” He looks down at our hands, now intertwined, and sighs. His eyes jump to mine, and his posture straightens slightly, his body turning so we’re closer to facing each other. “The whole flight, I was thinking about Deverelli.”
He pauses, and my memories flood back – both ecstatic and terrible. “Which part?” It comes out as a whispered breath.
“Mostly the good parts. The horses, the bookshop, the breakfast table.” A smirk lightens his face. “There was a conversation that we started there but didn’t get to finish.”
“A conversation?” It’s been two months since then, and while some incidents are indelibly seared into my memory, I can’t recall anything that might be cause for the suddenly intense expression in his eyes.
“It was at the palace. Before everything went to shit. Before I made everything go to shit…” He looks away as he says that last part, almost a chastising aside to himself. But Xaden composes himself after a beat and meets my gaze again. “They asked who you were, and I told them you were my consort.”
The moment crashes back into my mind, and I feel a surge of electricity race up my spine as I realize exactly where this conversation is going. He wouldn’t really ask me now, would he? Without meaning to, I reach for the bond to steady myself, to find he has it locked down once again. This is nothing new these days – he doesn’t completely trust himself around me. But maybe he has me shut out right now so he can take his time with what he’s saying? Gods, I want to open the bond, but I’m practically useless against him in that way. I take a breath and swallow hard, willing my face and body to relax as I respond.
“You wondered when a good time would be to discuss…our relationship.” I don’t know why I can’t bring myself to say the “m” word. Do I think Zihnal won’t allow us that happiness?
He slowly reaches forward, wrapping both of my hands in his large ones, warming and cradling them.
“Vi, you know I love you more than anything. I would tear down this house, this city, fuck, this whole continent if that’s what it would take to have you. I know that I have made some absolute piss-poor choices and gotten myself into some serious shit that has no known solution. I’ve somehow ended up a Duke in charge of a revolution. I come with more baggage than anyone should have to deal with.” He lets out a joyless laugh. “Despite all of that, do you think that maybe, perhaps, you might want to consider making this thing between us more official, someday?” He seemed to be holding his breath.
“Is this a proposal?”
His laugh was genuine this time. “Gods, no. When I propose, you’ll know it, love. This is me finding out if you would be interested in something like that. Marrying me is not the same as marrying some other man,” he spits the words with clear revulsion at the thought, “in some other village. You’d be Duchess, you’d have a role in the care of Tyrrendor, in the revolution. And…there’s the matter of carrying on the bloodline. We’ve never discussed having children. I don’t even know if you’re interested in that someday.”
“Is that something you’re interested in? Or is it just something you think is expected of you – to sire an heir?”
He considers for a few moments. “You know, I’m not sure anyone’s ever asked me that before. It was always expected of me, as heir myself, and after my father…” he doesn’t finish the phrase to its devastating end, “I didn’t think about it again. I had too many other responsibilities, and frankly I didn’t know if I would even live long enough to have children.” He pauses with a sigh. “My father was a complicated man. I loved him – love him – so deeply. But he always did put Tyrrendor first. I know he thought he had to, and I understand that better now than I ever could have when I was younger. But I don’t think I could do that to my own child. I would never put Tyrrendor before you, and I certainly can’t fucking fathom putting Tyrrendor before our child.” A spark lights his eyes. “Our child.” He sighs with a look of adoration as he stares into nothing. “Would she be just like her mother? Tiny and fierce, with hazel eyes? A terror with daggers, chasing the infantry down the halls of Riorson House?” He raises our hands to his mouth and deposits a sweet kiss on mine, grinning wildly at the view in his imagination.
“I’d like to think he’d be a bit like his father. Tall and handsome, and passionately protective of those around him. But maybe with his mother’s knack for diplomacy.” I shove him gently in the chest with our combined hands, and he feigns injury with a laugh.
“As long as they don’t get our inherent need for rebellion.” We share a knowing look, but he quickly returns the conversation to the point. “So, that’s a yes, you might want to have kids someday? With me?” His pride is palpable at the revelation.
“Someday. I’d love to have Brennan and Mira around for that. I don’t know that I’d be the best mother.” Xaden’s brow furrows in obvious disagreement, but I continue. “They could help kick my ass when I’m screwing the kids up.” Xaden moves again to sit beside me, and my head leans against his chest, his arm wrapping around me.
“I bet Brennan would love to be an uncle. He’d be good at it.”
“Mmm.”
“And you would be a wonderful mother. But I’ll work on convincing you of that some other time.” He sighs contentedly. “You want to have my children.” His voice marvels. “Does that mean you would consider becoming the Duchess, too?”
The title I could do without. But the thought of being his, of him being mine, in every possible way makes me beam with unreserved joy. “Of course, Xaden. You know how much I love you. I’ve already moved in. The next natural step is to make our situation more…permanent? Official?”
“And this isn’t just because you’re stuck with me, because of Sgaeyl and Tairn?” He squeezes me a little tighter, the tone of his voice is joking, but down the bond he can’t hide his euphoria, even with his walls firmly in place.
“Look, if I’m stuck with you, I may as well get the perks, right?” He tips my chin up, and the radiant smiles drop as our eyes lock. My hand comes to rest on his chest. “I am yours and you are mine. And nothing in this life or the next could keep us apart. I love you, and I would be honored to marry you, Xaden Riorson, 16th Duke of Tyrrendor. I would be equally honored to marry Xaden Riorson, pauper, or Xaden Riorson, venin maven.” He flinches at the reminder, but I hold his gaze. “You’re stuck with me, until the end. And even then, I’m following you to Malek, if I don’t get there first.”
“You stole my line.”
“It was a good one.”
“Mmm. I suppose so.” He brushes a kiss across my forehead before meeting my eyes once more. His intense eyes study my own, and I know he can see all that I am in them. “Violence.” He stretches out the name, adoration ringing through his tone and utter devotion barreling down the bond that is once again thrown open wide. “I love you, Violet Sorrengail.” He lightly kisses my right cheek. “The goddess I worship,” his lips find the sensitive place just below my right ear, “the very air I breathe,” and down to the sweet spot at the base of my neck that he knows brings me to my knees. He speaks the next words into my skin, tickling me with his breath. “I’ve said it before, but there is unequivocally no me without you, in any sense of the word.” His eyes rake back up my neck to my lips and finally to my eyes. “I meant it before when I said there aren’t words for what you mean to me. Gods, everything I try to verbalize just falls so unbelievably short, a trite fucking mockery of what I feel for you. The only way I can think to even begin to express to you how I feel is to just show you, every second of every day, with my words, my actions, my body…” His eyes skim back to my lips, and he leans forward.
Our kiss is firm and full of the undying love I feel to my marrow, to my very soul for him. I press the emotions down the bond toward him, and I’m met in return by feelings just as potent. There is no lust here, just a binding oath, a deep reverence. The kiss draws itself to a close and our eyes blink open, faces drifting apart from each other. He drops a gentle kiss on top of my head, and I watch him quizzically as he climbs out of bed and digs in the back of the wardrobe. He returns to my side of the bed and drops to one knee.
His hands reveal a small black leather box, monogrammed with a swirling, regal letter R. He offers it up to me, with calm, confident devotion radiating from his entire being.
I let out a soft gasp, a hand involuntarily flying to my mouth. My heart pounds in my chest, and I wonder if he can see it pulse through the thin silk on my chest.
He opens the box, revealing a thin silver ring bearing an emerald the size of my thumbnail. The metalwork is delicate but strong. Were the stone not so large it would be the perfect ring for a rider. The stone evokes a memory of a blade, and I abruptly understand the significance – and source – of the jewel. It would belong to the Duchess of Tyrrendor, wielder of the Blade of Aretia. I lift the ring, running a finger over the etched swirls that mimic Xaden’s rebellion relic. Tears start to gather in my eyes as I raise them to meet Xaden’s gaze, fierce as Dunne and devoted as Loial.
“Marry me, love?”
The Deverelli silk nightdress never stood a chance.