Work Text:
~Violet~
My breath hitches, the world tilting on its axis. Everything—the pregnancy, the panic, the future—vanishes in a single, breathtaking instant. All I can see is Xaden Riorson, the most powerful man I know, on his knees before me.
The setting sun catches the planes of his face, highlighting the scar that bisects his brow, the dark swirls of his rebellion relic creeping up his neck. His onyx eyes, usually so guarded and sharp, are wide open, reflecting a vulnerability that makes my chest ache.
“Violet,” he says, and his voice is rough, stripped bare of all its usual commanding edge. It’s just… his. “The first time I put a ring on your finger, it was a promise forged in fire and desperation. It was about survival. About claiming you in a world that wanted to tear us apart.”
He opens his hand. Nestled in his palm is a ring unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The band is a dark, brushed platinum, and at its center isn’t a gem, but a perfectly polished, obsidian-black dragon scale, its surface flecked with tiny, almost imperceptible veins of gold. It’s eternal. It’s strong. It’s us.
“This,” he continues, his gaze never leaving mine, “is a promise for the peace we fought for. For the mornings we get to wake up next to each other without the threat of battle. For the life we get to build together.” He swallows hard, and I see the faintest tremor in his hand. “I told you once I would rather lose this war than live without you. Now… I’m asking you to win this peace with me. Properly. Will you marry me? Again?”
Tears I didn’t know I was holding back spill over, tracing hot paths down my cheeks. The love that swells in my chest is so profound, so all-consuming, that it steals the air from my lungs. The secret in my pocket feels distant, a whisper compared to the roaring truth of this moment.
“Yes,” I choke out, the word barely a sound. I nod, my vision blurring. “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”
A brilliant, devastatingly beautiful smile breaks across his face, the kind of smile he reserves only for me. It transforms his harsh features into something so full of light and joy it’s almost painful to behold. He slides the ring onto my finger. It’s a perfect fit, the cool metal a familiar, grounding weight next to my simple wedding band.
He rises in one fluid motion, pulling me into his arms and capturing my mouth with his. It’s not a kiss of passion, but of promise. It’s slow and deep and pouring every ounce of the love he just voiced directly into my soul. My hands come up to grip his shoulders, holding on as if he’s the only solid thing in a spinning world. I pour everything I have into that kiss—my yes, my love, my terror, my hope.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless. He rests his forehead against mine again, his thumbs stroking my damp cheeks, before turning his gaze to the city sprawling below us. For a moment, we simply stand there, wrapped in each other and the quiet beauty of Aretia spread below us—our kingdom, ours, bathed in the golden glow of sunset. The rolling hills stretch toward the horizon, dotted with villages rebuilt from ashes and fields lush with crops instead of bloodied battlegrounds. This view is why it was Xaden’s favorite place before today—before us, before this moment that eclipses everything else.
The wind carries the scent of wildflowers and earth as it dances through my hair, and I lean into him, memorizing the way his arms tighten around me like he’s afraid I might blow away. But I won’t. Not ever again.
"Nothing could make me happier right now,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. The truth of it shines in his golden-flecked eyes. He is utterly, completely happy.
The words are a key, turning in the lock of my heart, releasing the secret I’d momentarily forgotten.
“I wouldn't be so sure,” I whisper back, turning back to face him, a shaky, tearful smile touching my lips.
Confusion flickers in his gaze for a split second. And then I open our bond, the mental connection I'd kept so carefully shielded until now, and I show him.
I don’t send words. I send feelings. I send my hopes the best way I know how. An image of us, right here on this hill, but months from now. His hands—those strong, scarred hands that wield shadows and swords with lethal grace—are resting on the pronounced curve of my belly, his touch impossibly gentle. The love in his eyes as he looks down is a physical warmth. Then, the image shifts. A tiny bundle wrapped in soft blankets, nestled in my arms. A perfect baby with his strong nose and my mouth, sleeping peacefully. And I’m looking up at him, my face radiant, my love for him so immense, so all-encompassing, that it feels like the sun is burning inside my chest.
The image fades, leaving him back on the hillside, the golden hour light casting long shadows. But the look on my face doesn’t change. The love he just saw in the vision is still there, shining back at him, multiplied by a thousand.
The change in him is instantaneous. His hands drop from my face like I’ve burned him. All the color drains from his skin, leaving him pale as moonlight, his lips parting in silent shock. His eyes—those dark, fathomless eyes that have seen war and death and every horror in between—go wide, the pupils dilating until they swallow nearly all the gold. It’s like watching a storm break over him, his entire body going rigid, his breath hitching audibly in his throat.
For a heartbeat, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just stares at me as if I’ve rewritten the laws of the universe. His hands are clutching my waist like I’m the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth. His chest heaves, his voice a shattered whisper. “Violet.” And then he’s pulling me against him, his face buried in my hair.