Sebastian's window glowed faintly blue with pre-dawn light when he heard the door open. The bed shifted, and Violet slid under the covers and into his arms before he could properly wake. He pulled her close, shivering as cold fingers curled against the back of his neck. Her hair smelt of smoke — he wondered why but was too relieved to care. She was here.
He'd lain awake late into the night, waiting. In the early evening he had gone to her room, but Isabela had been there. He had disrupted their plans once already, so he had left them alone, hoping she would come to him when she was done. But she hadn't come. He found himself second guessing everything all over again. Perhaps it had been wrong. Perhaps she had regrets. Perhaps his actions would disrupt the delicate balance of their friendship with Fenris and he would have to choose between tearing them apart and being alone. Perhaps… but he needed to speak with her to know. And he could not if she would not come.
But now she was here, kissing him with an ardor he was almost too sleepy to match. Relief washed over him, quickly replaced with heat as he met her kisses with his own. His palms glided down the warm bare skin of her back, and his worries slid away into the dark.
An orange sunrise was fading into daylight as Sebastian shook with the last gasps of his pleasure. He slid down Violet's body, pressing a kiss just above her navel.
"Marry me," he breathed against her skin, and felt her tense.
The words hung in the air for a long moment, and he cursed his impulsive tongue. What a thing to say! At such a time! He had meant it, down to the tips of his toes, but that didn't make it any better.
Then she laughed, still lying back against the pillows. "An apostate and a lapsed brother. Who would perform the ceremony, do you think?"
His thoughts flew to Elthina, and a chill washed over him.
Elthina. He had tried so hard to please her, to reward the faith she had in him. What she would think if she saw him now… though he would gladly suffer her disappointment, if only she were still alive.
Violet broke through his thoughts by reaching out to ruffle his hair. "My mother would have been so pleased. She adored you." She launched into a creditable exaggeration of Leandra's cultured tones. "'Such lovely manners — Violet, if only you would encourage him.' I'm not sure she'd approve of my methods, though." Her tone was light. He turned to look at her, but the room was not yet bright enough for him to read the expression in her eyes.
She was trying to diffuse the tension, as she always did; but it seemed his words had shaken her. He pushed the thought of Elthina away — plenty of time for that regret later — and focused on Violet. He wasn't sure how to retract the question without implying that he hadn't meant it. He did not want to lie to her. Unease unspooled in his belly. He needed to do something, but what?
As usual, it was Violet who found the right words. "It's a lovely daydream."
"But only that," he said softly.
"Yes." She pushed herself up against the headboard.
"Violet — " he started, moving towards her.
"Hush," she said, bringing a hand up to rest on his cheek without opening her eyes. "I'm daydreaming."
There was something uneven in her voice, and her eyelashes looked suspiciously wet. He reached up to brush a tear away with his thumb.
"I was inappropriate and hasty; forgive me."
She smiled slightly. "I accept the compliment as intended. It was lovely for me too." She leaned her forehead against his for a moment, then shifted to put more space between them. She took one of his hands.
Here it comes, he thought.
For a moment, she just rubbed her thumb against the back of his knuckles in silence.
"I like this," she said finally. "And I'd like to keep doing it. But I'm worried about Fenris."
His brow furrowed. "I know things are complicated between you. But from what he has said, I thought he was expecting it."
"Yes," she said slowly. "Probably. But that doesn't make it easy. He has so few people in his life. You were right, yesterday — he and I tried once to be together, but it didn't work, and he could never tell me why. When I touch him — his lyrium and my magic interact, maybe he's afraid… I don't know. He won't talk about it, but I see him flinch. And so we don't touch."
She worried her lip between her teeth and met his eyes for the first time. "I need to be honest. As much as I care for you — and I do — I love Fenris, and I don't know if I'll ever stop. That doesn't mean I don't want this, for now, whatever it is and for whatever that means. But if you're looking for marriage or children or… that's not me. For a lot of reasons." She looked down at their joined hands. "With the world the way it is now, I can't even see into next week. I can't promise I won't be caught, or where I might have to go. What I'll need to do."
"I know," he admitted softly. "I do. I only wanted to grab at the happiness in front of me, before it disappeared."
She gave him a watery smile. "I'm every bit as guilty of that. And I don't want to stop. I like grabbing you." For a moment her eyes sparkled. Then she took a deep breath. "But whatever we do, I can't — we can't — shut Fenris out. He has nowhere else to go, and I can't leave him. If that's going to be a problem— "
"We'll make it work," he said roughly, and pulled her to him, burying his face in her hair. "I'm not losing either of you. We can face whatever has to be faced — with Fenris. The three of us together."
He would find a way. He had to.