No one can take away your pride.
He had said that once, and it was true.
But you could lay it down.
Pride in who he had chosen to be, instead of what the war had made of him.
Pride in his strength, despite what it had once been used for.
Pride in skills that could keep those closest to him safe, even when it was those skill that brought danger.
Pride in a simple life of chores and cooking and time with his now family.
Pride in a woman who held belief in a sword that protects, instead of kills, and spreads that belief.
But he lays down that pride.
All at her feet, where he bows low, and asks that she accept him, as unworthy of her as he is, as her husband.