Hale's eyes widen in surprise when he opens the door to his room, before scanning the passageway for signs of trouble. “Bakora?”

“Hale, I … I think I messed up.” He notes the uncertainty in her eyes and the way she is trying not to fidget as she stands in front of him dressed in a simple pair of soft trousers and one of Rhylan’s shirts, her feet bare.  He opens the door and she dips in under his arm coming to a stop in the middle of the room. He studies her, noting the tension in her spine, the tears simmering below the surface. He doesn't know what's going on but he’s pretty damn sure it had to do with the bone deep hurt in Rhylan’s eyes when he told Hale he didn't want him, or anyone, to help prepare sentencing of those accused during the trial.

Hales' room opens into a small sitting room similar to theirs with a large window overlooking the gardens. Like theirs, a large bookcase is on either side of the window with a small table and chairs in front of it and a large fireplace sits against one of the walls with a battered but comfy looking leather sofa in front of it. A large, soft looking rug is spread on the floor between the sofa and the fireplace and a book is currently draped over the arm of the sofa, marking where the reader last got to. The room is surprisingly tastefully decorated in soft shades of greys and whites and just off the sitting room, through the open door she can glimpse a large bed, unmade and bits of clothing scattered about.

“I won't bite Bakora” she jumps a little as Hale speaks behind her.  “I know. Sorry it’s just… am I allowed to be here?” Hale raises an eyebrow in her direction “That would depend on why you’re here.” He can scent her nervousness but before he can speak she asks “do you mind? I mean, I am sorry I am intruding but I needed someone to talk to and…” she lets the words trail off. 

“I don't mind at all, Bakora, sit” he indicates the couch and fetches her a drink “Here, try this.” She sniffs the drink, taking a small sip then coughing. “Whiskey? She wheezes and he grins as he takes a seat next to her.  “Yeah.” He doesn't say anything, giving her time.

“Rhy told me we are engaged and I got angry.” Hale splutters his drink.

“Why were you angry, it was your idea…” He looks at her, his stomach tumbling “You didn’t know that's what consort means when you sent Rhy that note” and she shakes her head. He inhales roughly. Gods, Rhy must be… he can only imagine the level of hurt his brother is feeling right now. “Hale?” He turns to her and she is watching him with those lilac eyes “I think I really hurt him.” Hale gives himself time by sipping his drink. “What happened, Venne?”

She tells him everything and afterwards there's silence. “Do you see it as a leash?”

“No, I…” When she doesn't finish, he looks at her pinning her with his green eyes so similar to Rhylans. “Rhylan loves you Venne. Not a little bit, not a ‘for now’ kind of love but real love. The kind where he would give up the whole of Arrinath, his crown, everything he is, if he truly believed that was the only way to your heart. He will die protecting you if that's what it takes” She wants to interrupt him but he holds up his hand silencing her “If you don't feel even remotely the same or if you believe that you truly do not want the mate bond, that all it is is a leash around your neck,  then you need to end this right now. It will break his heart but it will be kinder to do it now than to wait. But do not stay with him and then treat him as if he somehow coerced or fooled you into being at his side.”

Hales' words find their mark. The voice inside her agrees with him and oily shame at her words, her reaction earlier, roils through her gut. She takes a deep breath “Hale, I need you to tell me everything about what being engaged means to the Fae and what being consort means.”

“Are you ready?” Venne asks. 

“I should be asking you, Bakora but yes, I am ready, and so is everything else.” He shakes his head, a wide smile splitting his face “I was almost always certain I would be part of this…I just didn't think  it would be you I was helping.”  Venne narrows her eyes at him but takes a deep breath. “Hale, what if he… what if I’ve …” He takes her hand. “Breath, Bakora. I cant answer for him but, if it helps, I have a good feeling about this.” She smiles at him and then throws her arms around him in a big hug whispering in his ear “Thank you, Hale.” 

“Always, Parva Soror”

“Are you ever going to tell me what it means?”

Hale laughs “I promise. But not today” 

She is immediately aware when Rhylan approaches, wiping her palms on her dress. She hasn't seen him for a few days, except for the briefest of moments before he told her he would be away for a few days and she asked him not to say anything about the consort issue until they had discussed it properly between them. She exhales roughly. “Venne?” 

 She steps between the warded trees. “Here, Rhy.” 

Rhylan swallows the breath he was about to take as his heart stutters. She is wearing a simple dress but it's still cut to fit and flatter her curves perfectly in a soft shade of lilac. The neckline is scooped low and edged with lace and he can't help his eyes lingering on the curve of her breasts while  her long hair, hanging loose down her back, shimmers in the moonlight.  She is beautiful but the nervousness that he scents on her along with her racing heart has him slightly on edge. “Is everything OK?” and he looks about the clearing, trying to work out what's going on. “Everything is fine, Rhylan, I just… wanted to talk to you away from the palace. “Come” she holds out her hand to him, “I had the clearing warded, with Yaenna’s help so nothing will disturb us.” Now he is really intrigued but allows himself to be led by her past the trees into the clearing coming to an immediate stop.

The trees in the clearing are lit up with hundreds of twinkling lights as if the stars have descended and a large rug is spread on the grass. The sky is streaked with hues of pinks and oranges and in the distance, the city of Arrinath is slowly starting to twinkle with lights as its residents go about their lives in the  spring evening. There’s a large basket on the rug and Venne pulls him gently to sit on the rug beside her. “Are you thirsty?” she asks quietly and he nods, taking a look about the clearing again. “We’re having a …picnic? At night?”  Venne passes him a glass of wine and he notes the slight tremor in her hand “We are. Rhy, I… I’m sorry.”

He takes her hand, running his thumb over the back of her hand. “Venne, its Ok. I just needed some time to sort my head out but you and I … we’re ok.” Venne exhales roughly and then takes another deep breath. “Rhy I am so sorry. I want to be your consort, I really do” she holds up a hand to silence him as he looks like he’s about to interrupt her “not because it's expected and not because you’ve already declared it before the senate but because you're…you.”

Her words are unexpected and something in him unclenches at the raw honesty in her words, leaving him momentarily speechless as she continues “I have… had… a speech prepared but I’ve forgotten it now” she swallows nervously “but I wanted to say that being by your side, being your consort, being your anything is not a leash or chain around my neck… and I’m so very sorry I ever said that. Please forgive me?” 

“Venne… I, yes, of course I do. I won't lie, I was hurt and I do wish we had time to discuss it before I declared anything before the senate but none of that matters as much to me as you understanding that you are enough. You will always be enough. Just as you. I don't need to give you a title if that's not what you want. I want you, Venne.”

Venne’s heart unclenches at his words and she gives him a small smile while taking a sip of her wine. Rhylan watches her over the rim of his cup, noting her awkwardness. “Do you have any snacks in that basket?”

“Of course, here” she holds out a container with what he thinks are biscuits. She doesn't say anything, just watching him intently as he takes a bite. “I baked them myself.” He can see she is waiting for his reaction as he bites the biscuit and …dear gods, it’s one of the worst things he’s ever tasted, reminding him of horse feed mixed with spices but he chews, giving her a smile. “Do you like it?” She looks so eager that he doesn't have it in him to tell the truth, instead making an appreciative sound in his throat. She beams at him “I’ve never baked before.” Well that explains a lot.

“Have you done this alot? Picnics I mean?”

“Not as many times as you’d think, cor farrun. How about you?” she shakes her head giving him a shy smile. “This is my first one ever. I read about them in a book and it sounded…nice.” The silence stretches between them and there’s a nervousness to Venne that he’s not experienced before and he gulps as she offers him a second biscuit.

Neither of them says a word and as he chews, struggling to swallow the very dry biscuit, Venne rolls her shoulders like she does when she’s preparing to run the gauntlet before she puts her glass down, shifting to one knee. “Rhylan Coreilian Arterio, Crown Prince of Arrinath, The First and Only United Elemental… will you marry me?”

He is completely, totally and utterly stunned.  

Of all the many scenarios that went through his head when Roan told him Venne was waiting for him here and all the others that were beginning to form when he got here, this was not one of them. This was never one of them. He blinks. Her eyes are searching his face, her heart beating like a drum. “Yes.”

There is absolute silence and he is slightly unnerved by her lack of reaction until she lets out a small sob. “Really? You said yes?”

“Was I not meant to?”

No! I mean Yes! You were… I mean I wanted you to but I didn't think you would but I’m happy you did I …” He is amused by her flustered expression and for a second he is tempted to let her carry on but the need to claim her as his is greater and he reaches for her, pleased to see that she is already reaching for him, joining in a hungry kiss. His arms are wrapped around her, her hands in his hair when she suddenly tenses in his arms, pulling away from him. “Shit, I was meant to, I mean we were meant to …” she scrambles out of his arms and opens the picnic basket “Would you, um, like a sandwich?”

For the second time in minutes he is stunned into silence. “A sandwich? Venne… are you ok?”

She nods. “Hale says we have to share food, apparently biscuits don't count, to make it… real. That I have to make the food and since I can't cook I, um, made sandwiches.” A smile tugs at Rhylan’s mouth and he holds out his hand. “I’d love a sandwich,Venne '' his heart melting when she gives him a big smile that brightens the purple flecks in her eyes. They watch each other eating their sandwiches when suddenly, from the top of the palace, a tall golden flame spears into the sky. 

Rhylan stills. He turns to her “Venne. How did you?” his words trail off. 

“Hale is waiting for  the signal. When you said yes, I sent him the signal so he could light the flame.” She pauses. “Rhy all anyone knows is that the question has been asked. If you… if you don't want this, everyone will assume I said no and I… I will never say otherwise.”

His throat bobs overcome by sudden emotion. She has chosen one of his favourite spots to do this. The place where he first showed her Arrinath in what feels like a lifetime ago. The use of his formal title, making food, lighting of the royal flames… she has clearly put a lot of effort into the traditions for this evening. His voice is thick as he takes her hand in his “More than anything Venne. But do you want this? Truly want this?” Venne turns her head to look at him, gaze unflinching and honest “More than anything Rhylan.”  

The air around them crackles and swirls, the smell of powerful magic in the air as Venne says quietly but with more than just a hint of sass “I need you to say the full words, Prince Arterio.” He grins “I agree to marry you, Venne Karthor.” There's a flutter of wings in the tree above their heads as a large bird takes flight. A few minutes later, a twin tall green flame spears from the palace roof into the sky. “You are officially engaged, Prince Arterio.” Rhylan laughs, swallowing the last of his sandwich. “As are you, mei cor farrun.”

She leans over to kiss him and he once more pulls her to him sitting her in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck. He kisses her tenderly, still in shock by the evening's events but Venne has other ideas, her kisses turning hungry and demanding. His hands roam over her sides to the delicious swell of her ass, squeezing as he pulls her in against him. Venne kisses him hungrily, her tongue exploring his before trailing kisses down his throat, her hands tugging at his shirt. He arches away from her, pulling his shirt over his head as her hands immediately go to his chest, nails scraping gently down his abdomen as his muscles clench in eager anticipation. His body arches in response to her and he sucks in a breath as her mouth closes over one of his nipples, nipping gently, sending tingles through him and straight to his cock. Just as impatiently, he tugs her dress up, his hands caressing her bare legs. Without prompting, Venne breaks the embrace to pull her dress over her head and his breath hitches in his throat at the sight of her dark purple lace underwear. “See something you like, Fiance?” she asks softly as she skims her hands over breasts, giving the twin hard nipples a tug. “Fuck, Venne…” hearing her call him ‘fiance’ as she plays with her nipples unleashes something primal in him and he pulls her towards him, his mouth sucking one hard nipple through the lace his hands roaming over her stomach and sides as she throws her head back, a lusty moan esacaping her.

Pleasure uncoils in the pit of her stomach and she rolls her hips over the thick hard length of him, grinding against him as he licks, nips and sucks her nipples. Her hands caress his body pushing against his chest so he is lying down as she straddles him, grinding her hips against him. She sits up and with a seductive smile, taking her underwear off so that her breasts are free as he reaches for her once more “So fucking beautiful, mei cor farrun” She leans down, kissing him hungrily, her tongue exploring his before once more trailing kisses down his throat and torso. She nips each of his nipples as he moans and bucks his hips beneath her, his hands stroking her back and squeezing her ass. Venne shifts her body so that she can kiss down over his stomach, exploring those corded muscles with her tongue and lips sending ripples of anticipation through him, her bare breasts dragging on his skin until she reaches the waistband of his trousers. He moans as she rubs her hand over his cock straining in his trousers before tugging at the laces. The moment his cock springs free she wraps her hand around him gripping tight like she knows he likes it stroking him slowly. “Venne … gods” his hips buck as he tries to urge her to stroke faster but she gives him a cheeky grin stroking him even slower but harder “so impatient, fiance” and he growls trying to reach for her. 

She stops her stroking tugging at his trousers and he lifts his hips so she can pull them over his ass and down his legs before settling her head between his thighs, her damps core riding his thigh, gripping him once more, stroking up his full length. She gives him a wicked smile as she slowly lowers her mouth over the tip of his cock not quite taking him in her mouth but he twitches in response as he feels her warm breath on his tip. She smiles as she sees his muscles clench “do you want your cock in my mouth, Prince Arterio?” she whispers breathily, her lips tantalisingly close as she grinds her core on his thigh. “Venne…please…yes” he growls out, hips bucking. 

She drags her nail gently up his shaft causing pleasure to ripple throughout his body, hissing in a breath when she swirls the gathering moisture at his tip with his tongue. She teases the thick ridge around the tip with her nail as her other hand plays with his balls making him see stars. He is is so wrapped up in the sensations that when she suddenly sucks him him into her mouth his whole body lurches “Fucking…gods!” she smiles around him but doesn't break the rhythm of sucking him and stroking with her hand as she rides his leg. He props himself up on his elbows to find Venne watching him with luminous eyes. She doesn't break eye contact as she stops sucking him, gives him a second wicked smile then licks him, slowly, from base to tip along the vein of his shaft, sending waves of pleasure deep into his belly and up his spine. He inhales roughly but before he can say anything she is sucking him again, cheeks hollowing, her hand working a steady rhythm and when he feels his cock on the back of her throat it takes everything he has not to thrust up with a primal desire to claim. She increases speed and when he holds the back of her head pulling her into him she purrs against his cock. Pleasure spasms through him “Venne…I’m going to come if you're not careful” and she makes a soft sound against him, sucking and stroking, increasing her speed as she rides his leg. His hips buck of their own accord, that telltale tightening in his balls “Venne…” but she presses her fingers against him, a silent sign of permission causing him to growl low and predatory in his throat. Each swirl of her tongue, each slick and soft slide of her hand causing exquisite pleasure until he erupts, Venne swallowing each of his eager spurts as she comes against his leg.