Moonstone Quarry [m] snow trickles

his arms tightened around her. the quarry, the stone, the ghosts—all fell away.
then you are, he said, voice thick, gravel turned gold in her ear. mine.
he pressed his brow to hers, steadying. anchoring. not as a man drowning in her, but as one reborn. my seidkona, he breathed, as if it were a vow. my flame. you knew me when i was only embers.
his jaw clenched, and he held her as though he might vanish again if he did not. but he would not leave. not now. he would build, with her hands in his, not in shadow but in the blaze of what they chose.
you will sit beside me, he murmured, drawing her hand to rest against his chest where his heart beat full. and they will know you not only by fire, but by name. fleur. my wife. the one who waited through the dark.
and quieter, lower:
i will not leave you again. even if the gods themselves tear open the sky.