It was to be expected, though. He didn't know when he'd die, so he hadn't thought about the ring.
But he had a Reality Marble, and his Tracing.
So Shirou would oftentimes trace a blacksmith's tools, and the steel of a particularly beautiful sword or Noble Phantasm, and form a ring.
But never was he content with the rings he made, always shattering hours-long procedures.
They had to be perfect, after all.
Shed catch him, sometimes, sitting by a stream, thinking. But she never commented, not wanting to startle him when he looked so deep in thoughts.
Until, one day, he took her to a small clearing, with a picnic basket and the red and white checkered cloth, fell to one knee and proposed.
She smiled the brightest that day, and the ring would never leave her finger again.