His nerves tensed as he paused, his thoughts a rampage of doubt and love and confusion. My breath caught as I felt it, the emotions so human that I would never have expected them from him.
I turned from where I sat, my hand extending to wrap around his from where it hovered above the box. I intertwined my fingers with his as I plunged my magic into him, letting it pulse into him as I warmed him, soothing his heart. He froze at the touch, his eyes still locked onto the box that sat beside us, the open lid beckoning him.
“It's okay,” I whispered. His eyes darted to mine as I spoke, the rivers of wet that seeped from them catching me off guard.
“It's okay,” I repeated. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered.
His emotions peaked, and before I knew it, I was crying right along with him.
He had waited so long, watched so many others find their happiness, and now it was his turn. After so long. I couldn’t help the joy I felt for him, the excitement that I knew was hidden under his doubt. He didn’t need to feel that, not right now.
I dropped his hand from mine, my movement slow as I reached up to touch his face, resting my palm against his cheek as I pushed my magic into him. I kept my palm against his skin as his nerves faded and his breathing leveled, as his fear of losing me swelled before it, too, faded.
“I am staying right here,” I whispered before I reached up and pressed my lips against his, the soft touch enough to pulse through him, to promise him of the truth of my words.
His eyes lightened as I looked into him, his heart calming before I turned, settling back against him just as the thunder rumbled through the abbey, a lightning strike firing closer than it had before.
The lightning dissipated as I felt Ilyan's hand on the crown of my head, his touch gentle as he ran the golden brush through my hair, the strokes long and even as he moved from top to bottom, over and over. The last of my nerves melted away at his touch. The slow, steady strokes matched the beat of our hearts, the pulse of our souls.
Before I was ready, he replaced the brush in the box, his long fingers digging through the contents to produce a long, white ribbon, the fibers old and worn enough that I was sure it had been a different color at one point.
“For this ribbon, I give you my heart, for every beat is yours,” he whispered, his voice shaking as his fingers began moving deftly through my hair, his touch gentle as he weaved the ribbon through the strands, his movements quick and practiced before he reached down, grabbing another ribbon, this one just as light and almost appearing longer than the first.
“For this ribbon, I give you my soul, the other half to your perfect match.” My breath caught as he spoke, the vow almost seeming too perfect given the way our souls had fused together.
Ilyan had barely gotten the words out before he went back to work, his fingers careful and slow as they moved through my hair. Even though I knew this braid to be intricate, I never felt a pull, he never moved my head. His touch was soft, the pressure of his fingers against my head bringing small pulses of magic into me.
I held still as he pulled another ribbon from the box, this one shorter and a darker color than the other two.
“For this ribbon, I proclaim my love, my dedication, and my passion for you.”
Ilyan’s fingertips brushed over my hairline as he pulled more hair into the intricate braid, the touch soft against my neck. Each press of his fingers against my skin set my heart on fire, my chest burning as I tried to regulate my breathing.
He reached over to the box, grabbing another ribbon and pulling it out until all that was left in the box was the hairbrush, a small vial of oil, and a silky, golden ribbon longer than my arm.
“For this ribbon, I give you all that I possess, for in this moment, my life becomes yours.”
My life becomes yours.
I couldn’t stop the words from repeating themselves, the true meaning rumbling through me until my eyes began to burn.
My hair moved as his fingers pulled through it; all the hair was off my neck now as he continued to work. Part of me wanted to see, to close my eyes and sneak a peek, but I couldn’t ignore the way my heart beat, the way that Ilyan’s magic moved deeper into me with each movement. It wasn’t my place to see, not yet.
The movement in my hair paused as Ilyan leaned over, his fingers pulling the last ribbon out of the box; the long, silky snake of gold flowing over the palm of Ilyan’s hand as he, too, treasured it. His emotions flared with memories as he treasured the ribbon. His thoughts of the way his mother had worn this very ribbon in her hair until the day she died flooded me.
My heart seized at the realization, my heart breaking for Ilyan as he paused, his hand hovering over me, letting the golden ribbon fall in front of me, the silken thread soft against my face.