But is it really so bad that you did?asked another voice, kinder and gentler than the one that had preceded it.
No, Pansy supposed not. But her error had already made itself known, and Ren was looking at her with something like betrayal – or, hopefully, just disappointment – skittering across their features.
“We need to talk,” they said, grabbing her by the hand and yanking her away from the growing crowd, now swelling with a different sort of hooting, led, unsurprisingly, by Thorn.
There might have been some words shouted, too; something along the lines of “We’ll see you in the morning! The whole clan can’t wait to celebrate!” But Pansy, for better or worse, was no longer listening.
“Talk” turned out to be a rather generous way of putting it,given the two of them ended up sitting largely in silence once they reached their destination, another cavern, significantly smaller than the first, located several offshoots away.
They were closer to the surface now, as evidenced by the night sky, glimpsed beyond a massive tear in the cavern’s ceiling. Water dribbled through it, sliding down thick sheets of moss and cascading vines before dropping, at last, into a large, impossibly blue pond, its waters turned reflective in the light of the full moon.
“So…” Ren said at last, their gaze fixed on the nearby waterline lapping gently at moss-covered banks. The word hung between them, as impossible to ignore as a barrel loaded to the brim with spellpowder. “You didn’t know what that garland meant, did you?”
“No,” Pansy admitted, after a beat spent worrying her lower lip.
Ren blew out a bitter-sounding huff. “Right.” Reaching up, they grabbed the crown, still perched atop their head, the oranges and reds of its flowers contrasting beautifully with their dark hair.
“Wait,” Pansy said, before they could start to remove it.
Their eyes snapped to her, confusion and hope – that same damnable hope! – streaking across their brow. If the hesitation steadily clotting in Pansy’s throat had planned to seize her, it had already missed its chance. No way could she back down now.
Swallowing, she curled her fingers into the fabric of her skirt, uncaring of the new creases she dragged across its surface. It was already wrinkled beyond belief anyway; not to mention covered in mud. “Do you…? Are you sure you actually want to marry me?” she asked. “I mean, Thorn’s right. Halfling weddings can get pretty crazy.” She huffed out a small laugh, only to cringeat how flat it sounded, even to her own ears.
“Pansy,” Ren said, their tone nothing short of serious, and when she turned, she found them watching her with an intensity not even the sun itself could hope to match. “No one else has made me feel the way you do. My day is better simply because you’re in it. And when I think about the future, I can’t imagine sharing the rest of my life with any other person. So, yes, I’m absolutely certain I want to marry you.”
“Ren, I—” Pansy choked, the font of emotion welling up inside her less of a steady stream and more like an erupting geyser. Dozens of words rose to her lips, each more inadequate than the last. Honestly, how could she hope to encapsulate allthis –the rush of warmth, buzzing just beneath her skin; the way her chest felt like it was primed to burst – in a handful of syllables? It was impossible!
And still, she had to try.
“I want…” she started to say, in halting, half-strangled speech. “I want to wake up beside you every day, with no more blanket walls to separate us. I want to help you in the garden, even if I’m bad at it and, yeah, kind of don’t like it, because what I like most is being with you. I want to see you smile every time I cook your favorite foods, and I want you to tell me when you don’t like something, so I don’t make it for you again. I want—” It was then that the sob welling up in her throat finally got loose, tearing through her so fiercely her entire being shook from it.
Ren’s eyes widened. “What? Why are you crying?” They reached for her, panic sweeping through their voice like an arc of lightning tearing across the sky.
“I’m…” Pansy sniffled, her lips parting around a sodden laugh that to Ren’s ears, no doubt, sounded like a sob. “I’m just so happy! I was worried you wouldn’t want to be with me.Because – because of what happened at the festival.”
For a moment, they could only gape at her. “The – the festival? I couldn’t care less about what happened at the damn festival.”
“But Agvaldir—”
“Well, I’m not talking about marrying him, am I? I loveyou, Pansy. And, from the sound of it, it seems like you feel similarly about me.”
“I-I do,” she said, rushing the words out so quickly she nearly tripped over them. “I love you too, Ren.”
“Then smile!” said Ren, sounding as exasperated as they were perplexed. “Don’t cry! What in the world is wrong with you? Who cries when they’re happy?”
Pansy laughed again, louder this time. “Well, I do, and you better get used to it,” she said, swiping at the dampness clinging to her cheeks. “Because I’mdefinitelygoing to cry at our wedding.”
Huffing out a breath, Ren shook their head. “Honestly… What am I going to do with you?”
“Kiss me until I can’t think straight?” Pansy suggested, a hopeful lilt rising to the corner of her mouth.
Ren snorted. “You’re incorrigible,” they muttered, but they were already shifting towards her, one leg sweeping over her hips. “At least this time I don’t have to worry about you causing a scene in public.”
“Me?” Pansy asked, aghast, even as she let Ren ease her down onto the soft bed of moss beneath her. “You were just as much a part of that as I was!”
“Because you drive me crazy,” Ren breathed, each word misting hot against her lips. “I look at you, and suddenly it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”
Pansy fully expected them to kiss her then. By that point, they practically had herachingfor it. But, instead, they dipped their head towards her neck, peppering the skin there with quick, butterfly-soft kisses.
