Chapter Text
Violet decides before they even leave the clearing, the resolve settling deep in her chest like the embers of the fire still glowing in her veins.
Her head is spinning by the time they rise to their feet, the world around her tilted and shimmering with the weight of what’s just passed between them. Her fingers drift, almost of their own accord, to the sword’s hilt. She traces the embossed runes with the pad of her thumb, marvelling at the way they catch the faintest light, the gemstones embedded within glinting like shards of starlight.
Xaden stands close, his presence grounding her, his hand resting firm and steady against her ribs. She can feel the warmth of him through the fabric of her tunic, a quiet reassurance thrumming in time with her heartbeat.
As they near the edge of the clearing, her gaze catches on the blade’s polished steel, and she pauses, turning it just enough to see her reflection staring back at her. For a moment, she doesn’t recognize the woman she sees—a face softened by a flicker of hope, of belief, even amid the weight of everything they still have to face.
Her voice cuts through the quiet, soft but edged with curiosity.
“So... you’ve been keeping the whereabouts of the second blade a secret all this time?”
Xaden’s lips twitch into a faint smirk, but the warmth in his eyes betrays the quiet gravity behind his words. The lingering glow of the firelight dances across his features, softening the sharp edges of his expression.
“It’s not as though its existence was a mystery,” he replies, his voice low and rough, carrying the weight of something unspoken. “We weren’t hiding it. We were... safeguarding it. In wait.”
“For what?” she asks, her fingers tightening instinctively around the hilt, as if the blade itself might offer her the answer.
His gaze finds hers, steady and piercing, carrying with it a depth that makes her pulse quicken. The silence between them hums with something tangible, something raw.
“For the right moment,” he murmurs, his voice softening as his hand brushes lightly against her ribs, grounding her. “For you.”
Violet’s breath hitches, the weight of his words settling over her like the press of a storm. She looks down at the blade in her hand, its runes glowing faintly with an inner light that feels almost alive, like it’s waiting for her to say something, to do something.
“For me,” she echoes, her voice barely more than a whisper. She runs her thumb along the edge of the hilt again, tracing the intricate carvings. The gems seem to pulse faintly under her touch, their light responding to her as if they, too, are acknowledging her.
Xaden steps closer, his hand brushing against hers as he carefully steadies the sword, helping her hold it upright. His touch sends a shiver through her, but his grip is steady, grounding her in the chaos of her own emotions.
“This blade,” he begins, his voice reverent, “was forged alongside Crescent’s Howl, meant to be its twin, its equal. But it was always waiting for its wielder. Waiting for someone who could match its power. Its purpose.”
Violet lifts her eyes to meet his, her breath catching again at the way he looks at her. It’s not just reverence or admiration—it’s belief. A belief so unwavering it steals the air from her lungs.
“And you think that’s me?” she asks, her voice trembling, though she doesn’t know if it’s from doubt or the overwhelming sense of responsibility pressing down on her chest.
“I don’t think,” he says, his hand tightening over hers, the warmth of his palm seeping into her skin. “I know. I’ve always known, Violet. From the moment you stepped into the flames and wielded Crescent’s Howl like it was an extension of yourself. This blade was waiting for you. Just like I was.”
Her heart pounds, each beat echoing in her ears like a drum. The world around them feels impossibly still, the weight of his words anchoring her to this moment, to him.
“Xaden...” she begins, but her voice falters. She doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to respond to the unrelenting faith shining in his eyes.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his forehead lowering to rest gently against hers. “Just take it. Claim it. Make it yours, Violet. You were always meant to.”
Her chest tightens, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she looks down at the blade once more. The firelight catches the edge of the steel, the runes glowing brighter now, almost eagerly.
Slowly, she lifts the sword higher, her hands steady despite the storm raging inside her. The weight of it feels perfect, as if it was shaped to fit her hands, her strength, her resolve.
“You’ve always been extraordinary,” he murmurs against her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “But with such a blade in your arsenal, Violet... now you’re unstoppable.”
"Xaden," Violet says, her tone even and composed, the words deliberate as they leave her lips. "I wish to make the pledge before the Tyr's gathered here in Aretia."
Xaden freezes, his gaze widening in disbelief, as though she has physically pulled him back, leaving him disoriented in the wake of her declaration.
"Violet—"
"I understand that you’ve said you don’t expect anything of this sort, no such... public display," she continues, her voice unwavering as she steps closer, standing tall and resolute in front of him. "But this isn’t about meeting any expectation. It’s about my own desire. I need them to witness this. I need them to understand the depth of what I feel for you."
His chest rises and falls with a shaky breath, his mind clearly racing as he processes her words.
"Violet," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, "if this is truly what you want, if you wish to offer this... I will accept. But I must be sure—be absolutely certain—that this is what you truly want." His throat tightens as he speaks, the gravity of her decision weighing heavily in the air between them.
Violet stands her ground, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination, even as the weight of the moment presses down on them both. The clearing around them seems to hold its breath, the air thick with anticipation, as if the world itself is waiting for her next words.
"I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life," she says, her voice steady despite the thundering pulse of her heart. She takes a small step forward, her boots sinking into the soft earth with a quiet resolve. "I've walked through fire, faced shadows darker than I ever could have imagined, and yet... you’ve been the constant. The one thing that’s never wavered, no matter how lost I’ve felt. This isn't about ceremony, or tradition. This is about us. About what we are, and what I know we can be."
Xaden’s eyes soften as she speaks, his expression shifting from shock to something deeper, more vulnerable. He exhales sharply, as though the words she speaks are something he’s longed to hear, but never dared hope for.
"Violet..." His voice cracks, barely a whisper, and she reaches for him instinctively, her fingers brushing over the roughness of his hand, grounding him, grounding them both.
“You’ve been my strength, my anchor in the storm,” she continues, her breath coming a little faster now, the words spilling out as though the dam has finally broken. “And I can’t stand by and wait anymore. I can’t hide this part of me from you, or them. Not anymore.”
Xaden’s fingers curl into hers, his grip tight with the unspoken emotion that swirls between them.
“You’re the fiercest woman I’ve ever known,” he murmurs, the words low and thick with admiration. “But this… this isn’t something to take lightly. Not with the weight of what’s ahead of us.”
"I know what’s at stake, Xaden," she says, lifting her chin slightly, meeting his gaze with a fire that matches his own. "But I want to face it with you, by your side. And I want everyone to see it. To see us."
For a long moment, Xaden says nothing, his eyes searching hers, reading the certainty in the way she holds herself, the quiet strength in her stance. He can see it—feel it, in the way she stands there, unwavering in her resolve.
“You are everything to me, Violet,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ll never let you doubt that. But if this is what you truly want… then I will stand with you, no matter the cost.”
A small, relieved smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
“Then we’ll do this. Together.”
He nods slowly, his hand reaching up to gently cup her face, his thumb brushing along the curve of her cheek.
"Together," he echoes, his voice full of promise.
Without another word, Violet steps closer, her breath catching as the reality of what they’re about to do settles over them both. She isn’t afraid anymore. Not with him by her side. Not with the pledge she’s about to make to him, and to the tribe who will witness it.
And as she gazes into Xaden's eyes, the world outside of them seems to fade away, leaving only the two of them—united, unstoppable, bound by a love that can withstand even the darkest of storms.