a perfect pearl hung in the sky by hanneswrites  

“Marry me.” Caranthir says, more of a demand than a question.

Haleth stares at him for a long moment, unspeaking. And then her gaze flicks down to the sleek red ring box between them. His hand is still outstretched, his knuckles pale with the intensity of his grip on it.  

Haleth takes a sip of her wine.

They haven’t even been served yet.

“Is this about the will revisions?” She asks, and she watches as Caranthir’s jaw clenches.

He drops the ring box to the table, and it falls with a muffled thump.

It’s a dainty little thing. A thin, silver-white band with delicate inlaid stones framing a single princess-cut diamond. Clearly expensive, and clearly something that Caranthir had likely thrown money at with the expectation that the clerk at the jewelry store would pick whatever they thought was best. It is not something she could ever imagine herself wearing. The style’s all wrong.  

“Father has added stipulations would prevent me from claiming my inheritance if I am unmarried.”

Ah. Yes. That would do it.

Caranthir is one of the last holdouts among his brothers, a fact that Haleth has heard Fëanor lament many times during family events. Lacking any sort of stable romantic relationship after they’d both graduated from university, Haleth, by default of being one of his only friends, had become Caranthir’s designated accompaniment for anything from family dinners to Feanorian-sponsored galas. The amount of times she’s fielded invasive questions from Caranthir’s father about when they were planning on marrying is more than she would like to think about.    

Haleth hums and takes another drink.

“I…” He begins, and then he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “Would it be such a hardship?”

At this, Haleth laughs. A short, stinted chuckle that ends with Caranthir’s face blushing a mottled deep red. It is an endearing look on him, paired with the fury in his eye.

“I have not said it would be,” She says, grinning as she swirls her drink around. “I imagine it would be quite the same as it is now. We live together already.”

Caranthir opens his mouth as if to say something, and Haleth continues before he can get a word out.

“You have to buy me a different ring,” Haleth says, snapping the velvet box shut and pushing it back toward him, “And I expect a grand honeymoon, wherever I want to go. And I will be keeping my name. No compromise on that.”

Caranthir lets out a breath, the tension bleeding out of him slowly.

“You will spoil me,” she adds, because the wine has settled in her and it has made her feel light and warm.

Caranthir smiles, then, just a small thing. A bare, tiny upturn of the corners of his mouth, “Without question.”

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