A/N: Just a one-shot, nothing really epic. And this is a small fandom, so I don't expect much recognition. But this idea was bothering me, so I just had to write it down. Enjoy a happier ending than the book!
This is from Graceling's companion novel, Fire.
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Joyous Days
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Fire measured her most joyous days in numbers.
She remembered each and every single one of her most blissful days. Probably because until recently, she count each one of them on one hand--when she had enough fingers, of course.
One of the happiest days of Fire's life was when she married Brigan.
A beautiful day. One with white lace, roses, sweet smiles, fiery hair loose on her shoulders, the smell of Brigan's spicy cleanliness, pure tears, and a small ache that made it so much better.
And there was another happy day--one she never imagined she'd have. One she'd cried over, because she thought it would never happen.
Three months after Fire became royalty, as Brigan's wife, she found she was pregnant.
"Are you sure?" Brigan asked for the infinite time.
Fire couldn't speak for tears. How could I not be? she told him in his mind.
"Fire," he murmured, taking her into her arms and stroking her silky hair. "Fire, don't cry. Please. . ."
"I've always wanted this," she finally managed to say. "But I made my decision. I was to be the last, the last..."
She gripped a lock of her unnaturally-colored hair as she finished her sentence, as an answer.
"Well, Fire," Brigan said, gently. "It seems fate made the choice for you."
She held him tighter, like a lifeline. How had it happened? Maybe her monster body was different. Maybe, as she healed somewhat faster than the rest of her friends, her human friends, her body had also healed itself of the wound. It was a blessing, but it brought quandries she didn't know how to deal with.
Oh, her poor child, to deal with what she'd had to deal with, being a human monster. . .
"It will be different for our child," Brigan said, and as Fire looked at him in surprise she realized she'd spoken that thought into his mind. "Because of what you've done, Fire, this child will not be hated as your father was."
Fire just held him and cried, not sure if she was crying in pain or happiness.
Seven months later, another beautiful day was created.
Fire held the most perfect, vastly delicate child in her arms. The baby had bits of his mother's and father's hair---bright streaks of Fire's scarlet, with highlights of Brigan's thin gold, mixed together like vivid threads, with slivers of silvery blue that Fire thought might have come from her father.
Thank goodness the boy hadn't inherited his mother's pink hair.
Brigan came into the room, and touched the baby's soft, soft hair. At the contact, the boy opened his eyes, and they were purely Fire's arching shape, with Brigan's color.
She named him Archer.