THE VOWS
Elaris’s Vows
Elaris:
Sereth… from the moment I met you in the Ember Tankard, I knew you were going to change my life.
You walked in like a storm I didn’t know I’d been waiting for.
A ranger with sharp eyes, sharper instincts… and the quickest tongue I’d ever encountered.
I remember recruiting you —
gods, I was nervous —
and you made it worse by flirting with me the entire walk to that banshee’s lair.
I didn’t know what to do with any of it.
You confused me.
Fascinated me.
Terrified me.
And then…
long before I ever understood how much I loved you,
you showed me the truth of your heart.
When we endeavoured to save the twins from their infernal contract —
while I negotiated —
you made a sacrifice to Valthrix for me.
You traded your beautiful voice,
your warm soul,
your ranger’s grace…
so that I wouldn’t give up my life.
And you couldn’t even tell me until we reached hell.
I could see you fading.
Your spark dimming.
Your strength draining away.
And when Valthrix forced you to speak the truth of your feelings…
it killed you.
Literally.
But even in death, Sereth…
you didn’t leave me.
Your love clung to my soul like light in the dark,
and it gave me the strength to break the chains she wrapped around you.
To bring you back.
To tear that sacrifice apart piece by piece.
That was the moment I knew
— without question —
that I could trust you with my heart.
Always.
And then you met my daughter.
Not as a stranger,
but as someone who loved her instantly.
Someone she could laugh with… someone she could be safe with.
And when Varsha took you from me
— trapped you in your own mind, buried you in silence —
I swore I would cross death itself to bring you back.
And I did.
Because when I begged you to hear me…
when I called you home…
you found your way back to me.
Your streak of white —
the scar of the battle you survived,
the symbol of the woman who refuses to break —
reminds me every day that you are stronger than fate.
Stronger than magic.
Stronger than anything that ever tried to take you from me.
Our first kiss beneath the moonlight…
your breath warm against mine…
was the moment I realized how deeply I loved you.
How much I feared losing you.
And when I knelt to propose, I was shaking so violently I almost fell over.
Because I wasn’t proposing to a dream —
I was proposing to the woman who saved my life,
my daughter’s life,
my future.
I swore then —
and I swear now —
I will never hurt you again.
Not through fear,
not through silence,
not through the shadows of my past.
You are my light, Sereth.
My equal.
My partner.
My family.
And whatever comes next —
war, queens, shadows, hell itself —
I will face it with you.
I vow this:
Your joy will be my mission.
Your safety my oath.
Your heart my home.
Always.
(He lifts her hand, voice breaking.)
And whatever life we bring into this world…
I will cherish every breath of it.
With you.
And only you.
Sereth’s Vows
Sereth:
Elaris…
From the first moment I heard your voice in the Ember Tankard,
I knew I was in trouble.
You looked at me like you were trying to solve a puzzle —
and I teased you just to see what you’d do.
On the way to that banshee, I flirted so hard I thought you might faint.
You didn’t know where to put your hands, your eyes, your words.
But you tried.
And that… that was the first moment you made my heart soften.
And before I ever understood how much you meant to me,
I proved something to myself —
that I would do anything to keep you alive.
When we fought to save the twins from their infernal contract…
you were willing to sacrifice yourself.
To die.
And I couldn’t let that happen.
So I made a deal with Valthrix.
I traded my voice,
my warmth,
my ranger’s grace —
pieces of my own soul —
just to make sure you lived.
Even if it meant I would fade.
And fade I did.
I felt myself slipping,
piece by piece,
until in hell…
she forced me to confess my feelings.
And it killed me.
But even in death, I wasn’t afraid.
Because I knew —
I knew —
you would come for me.
That you would find me.
That you would save me.
Because you are the man of my dreams.
My hero.
My home.
And I would do it all again.
Every sacrifice.
Every step.
Every breath.
And then…
you let me meet Elyra.
You opened your heart to me—even the parts you guarded most fiercely.
And the moment I saw her,
I loved her.
When Varsha stole me,
when she drowned me in thorns and tried to erase who I was…
I heard you.
Your voice.
Your promise.
The man I love pulling me out of the dark.
The white streak in my hair…
it reminds me of you.
Of us.
Of the battle we fought to come back to one another.
Our first kiss under the moonlight…
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
I thought my heart might burst.
I didn’t think you could ever love someone like me—
someone scarred,
someone stubborn,
someone who’d lived so long with anger instead of hope.
But you did.
And when you proposed,
every fear I had disappeared.
Because you meant it.
Because you saw all of me,
and still chose me.
So here is my vow:
I will never leave you.
Not in fear,
not in doubt,
not in the hardest battles or the darkest nights.
You are my reason.
My heart.
My future.
(Her hand drifts to her stomach — soft, trembling — just for him.)
And whatever life begins today…
whatever new chapter we write…
our family will always come first.
You and I.
And everything we build together.
I love you, Elaris.
In every way a heart can love.
Always.
Forever.
THE EXCHANGE OF RINGS
The chapel was breathless.
Not quiet.
Not merely still.
Breathless.
Every soul inside seemed to hold the same fragile inhale, as if one exhale too loud might shatter the moment forming in front of them.
Sereth and Elaris stood facing each other, hands trembling in the same rhythm — not from fear.
From awe.
Arden stepped forward, her celestial dress glowing faintly like dawn breaking through stained glass.
Arden (softly):
“May the rings be brought forward.”
Behind her, Borin stiffened, panic flickering for a fraction of a second — a battlefield flashback of goats, catapults, haystacks, and sheer dwarven despair.
But Elyra, quick as ever, nudged him with a reassuring elbow.
Elyra (whispering):
“Dad found them. It’s okay.”
Borin squared his shoulders, thumped his chest, and proudly presented the rings in a small velvet-lined box.
They glowed — silver, moonlit, forged in love and grief and hope — each one etched with runes Borin had carved by hand.
Sereth saw them and gasped softly.
They were beautiful.
And more importantly:
They were here.
Elaris’s eyes glimmered.
He mouthed a silent thank you to Borin.
Borin puffed up like a peacock and stepped back into the line of groomsmen.
Arden opened the box.
Arden:
“These rings are not merely symbols.
They are promises.
Circles without end —
like the bond you have already proven you would die for.”
Elaris reached first.
His hands shook.
His breath trembled.
He looked at Sereth like she was the only thing in the world capable of anchoring him.
And she was.
Arden nodded gently.
Arden:
“Elaris… place the ring upon Sereth’s hand.”
His fingers brushed hers, and Sereth inhaled sharply, eyes shimmering with tears she refused to let fall yet.
Elaris (voice barely steady):
“Sereth… with this ring…
I bind my heart to yours.”
He slid the ring onto her finger.
It fit as though it had always been meant for her.
When he let go, Sereth stared at it—
at the way the silver caught the candlelight—
and for a moment she forgot how to breathe.
Arden turned toward her.
Arden:
“And now, Sereth… place the ring upon Elaris’s hand.”
Sereth reached for his ring.
Her fingers trembled even more than his had.
As she took his hand, the chapel felt smaller—
as if the world leaned in to hear her speak.
Sereth (soft, shaking, but radiant):
“Elaris… with this ring…
I give you everything I am.”
The ring slid over his knuckle.
He exhaled a shaky breath and closed his fingers over hers, holding her hand like it was the most sacred artifact he had ever touched.
Arden raised her voice just enough for the chapel to hear:
Arden:
“Before witnesses, before gods, before all the realms—
your vows and your rings bind you as partners,
as equals,
as heart to heart.”
Vex sniffed dramatically.
Laz subtly wiped at his eye and pretended he wasn’t.
Garruk sobbed into Kaer’s shoulder.
Kaer stood stoic—
except for the tiny smile betraying him.
Elyra took her mother’s free hand and squeezed, whispering:
Elyra (teary):
“He looks so happy, Mum.”
Sereth’s chin trembled.
She whispered back:
“So do I.”
Arden extended her hands outward, her voice steady and bright:
Arden:
“Then by light, by life, and by love—
the rings are exchanged.
The bond is made.
Your hearts are joined.”
Silence.
Soft.
Reverent.
Elaris and Sereth didn’t look away from each other for a single heartbeat.
This was it.
The moment the world shifted.
THE KISS — AND THE SHADOWED ALCOVE
(A slow-build, interwoven scene — love and danger unfolding in perfect contrast.)
The chapel glowed.
Not with magic.
Not with spellcraft.
With joy.
As Sereth and Elaris faced one another—
as their fingers tightened around each other’s hands—
as Arden prepared to speak the final words—
the world narrowed to just them.
Arden’s voice rang clear:
Arden:
“By every vow spoken… by every truth given…
you are now bound.
Heart to heart.
Soul to soul.
Husband and wife.”
The crowd leaned forward.
Sereth inhaled.
Elaris exhaled.
And slowly—
softly—
they leaned in.
Their lips brushed—
A kiss that felt like sunrise breaking through a century of night.
AT THE SAME MOMENT — THE ALCOVE
Far back at the chapel entrance, where candles barely reached the stone, a figure stood unmoving.
Tall.
Still.
Silent.
Azhareth.
His humanoid form wrapped in a dark cloak, hood low, but nothing could hide the unmistakable golden dragon-slit eyes narrowing from the shadows as he watched the couple kiss.
A slow exhale left him.
A sound that was almost—
almost—
a sigh.
THE HAND ON HIS SHOULDER
A pale, manicured hand slid through the darkness and rested lightly on his shoulder.
Her voice was velvet and venom.
Valthrix:
“Aren’t weddings beautiful, Azhareth?
One heart bound to another for eternity.
Ever wonder what that feels like…?”
A pause.
A whisper against his ear.
Valthrix:
“Oh wait…
you do.”
Azhareth’s body went rigid.
His wings, half-dormant beneath the glamoured skin of his humanoid form, flared outward—
and in one smooth, predator-fast motion he pinned Valthrix to the inner wall of the alcove.
Stone cracked.
Dust drifted down.
She didn’t flinch.
He did not break eye contact with the couple at the altar — he barely blinked.
Valthrix raised an eyebrow.
Valthrix:
“Listen here, you draconic sob story—”
Azhareth (low, deadly):
“Speak once more…
and I send you to the Hells permanently.”
Her smile sharpened.
Valthrix:
“Would you prefer I speak to Vaelith?”
Azhareth turned his head at that.
Only slightly.
Only enough.
And that was enough.
Her victory sparkled in her eyes.
“SHE STILL DOESN’T KNOW… DOES SHE?”
Valthrix:
“She still doesn’t know, does she?
Glorious, really.
Should I tell her of your betrayal…
or shall Varsha and Silvenna have the honour?”
Azhareth’s glare could have melted iron.
A death stare made of centuries of unspoken devotion.
He unpinned her.
Wings retracting.
Jaw clenched so tight it shook.
Azhareth:
“…What do you want, devil.”
She stepped forward, fixing her gown as if he hadn’t just threatened to murder her soul.
Valthrix:
“Oh, nothing.
Just enjoying the show.
I didn’t get an RSVP, did you?”
He said nothing.
She smiled wider.
Valthrix:
“No.
Didn’t think you would…
Shame, really.
After all you do for them.”
Then she stopped—
mid-taunt—
head tilting slightly.
Her smile curled.
Valthrix:
Ah.
There it is.
You felt that, didn’t you?”
Azhareth’s eyes widened a fraction.
On the altar—
at the exact moment Sereth and Elaris deepened their kiss—
Azhareth felt it.
Vaelith’s heartbeat.
It shifted.
A flutter.
A flinch.
A ripple through their shared connection.
Subtle to all others.
But not to him.
Valthrix:
“Go tend to your queen, Azhareth.
I cannot wait to hear what she says.”
And with a grin like cut glass, she vanished into smoke.
THE OBSERVER
Azhareth remained.
Just for a moment.
Just long enough to steady the emotions battering through him like crashing waves.
He watched Sereth and Elaris break from the kiss—
smiling through tears—
foreheads touching—
hands clasped tightly.
Azhareth (soft, barely audible):
“…Congratulations…
Vorns.”
Then he stepped back into the shadow—
and was gone.
THE GIFT
Outside, a courier waited by the gate.
Azhareth, now a cloaked silhouette dissolving into snowfall, pressed a small velvet-wrapped box into the messenger’s hands.
Azhareth:
“To be delivered to Elaris Vorn.
Tomorrow morning.
And no sooner.”
Messenger:
“Y-yes, sir. Of course.”
The dragon nodded once.
Then he vanished into the storm.
