Requested by iloveslashers

Sweat trickled down Violets flushed face. Her hands trembled from how tightly  she held the bars supporting her weight. The gait belt, an ugly tan piece of fabric, was fastened around her waist, flaring the still healing wounds underneath her shirt and bandages.

"You're doin' great," Violets physical therapist, Rick, encouraged.

Violet couldn't help but glare at her fellow American. After her harrowing encounter months ago her recovery had been less than stellar. She had multiple surgeries to repair her knees use of her shoulder and with how deep her cuts and stab wounds were, it had rendered her immobile for fear out of staples and stitches coming undo and spilling her internal organs. She was kept from therapy, Dr. Cullen fearing the movement and exercise would lead to more harm than good.

"I can't..." Violet took a baby step forward.

"You can." Rick caught Violet as she nearly fell and tightened his grip on the gait belt. "Remember Rome wasn't built in a day."

Violet huffed and attempted to take another step. "But it burned in one," she reminded.

Rick, ever the supportive man smiled. "Something that was once destroyed can be rebuilt, Mrs. Volturi." He took another step, forcing the belt to bite into Violet once more. "One more step and we'll call it a day."

"My last name is Swan, not Volturi."

"When she accepts my proposal, she will be Mrs. Volturi," corrected a voice from the door of the converted ballroom into a therapy room. 

Violets head swiveled to where Caius stood. His arms were crossed over his chest, leaning against the frame, and eyes unreadable.

"When Hell freezes over," Violet snarled.

Caius smiled. "Its been freezing, Regina Mia."

Violet turned her attention back to the bars and tried to take another step. "My wife's lesson is over," Caius commanded.

"No, it's not," Violet snapped back venomously. "And don't call me your wife!"

Rick took a chance to look at the man who had hired him. Caius shot an eyebrow up and smirked, an invite to defy him like the other therapist had done. Rick had heard the story of how the therapist was thrown into the dungeon with ravenous vampires when she had defied Caius's order and Violet ended up back in the hospital in need of more stitches.

"Well," Rick's voice had taken on an octave higher than usual, "look at the time, our lesson is done for the day!"

Violet sighed. "Rick, don't let the walking ball of angry glitter-"

Rick paid her no attention. "Let me get your wheelchair-"

"I will get it," Caius stated as he guided the chair over, "you may go."

Violet gave the therapist a pleading look but his attention was on gathering his belongings. He said his farewells and fled the room.

"Can you take a chill pill or something?" Violet asked, "Rick cannot do his job if you keep terrifying him. He'll just quit!"

Caius locked the brakes into place and came to Violets side to help her into the chair. "Then I will hire another to take his place," he deadpanned.

Caius reached for Violet only for her to swat his hands away. Caius rolled his eyes, unamused by his mates antics as she tried to get to her chair. Losing patience, Caius lifted her and placed her into her chair. Violet glared as Caius released the brakes and guided her to the doors.

"I never asked for your help," Violet mumbled as they turned into the hall.

Caius chuckled. "Probably because I didn't ask."

Violet huffed and stared at the painting on the walls. It was the kings and queens throughout the ages until the modern time. Violet looked away, not wanting to see herself seated in a chair with Caius resting his hand on her shoulder in a tasteful oil painting. 

"I hate that painting..." 

Caius looked at the painting remembering the day vividly. His mate was beautifully made up, her hair falling in gentle curls around her shoulders and faint blush on her cheeks hiding the bruises of Vladimir's hands on her. Her dress was her preferred shade of blue but had enough fabric to cover her shoulders and legs in those hideous casts. Caius had made it a point to match his tie and handkerchief to match that day. Her youth as radiant but her normally warm brown eyes were haunted and cold. A crown rested on her brow, white gold with diamonds surrounded by sapphires in delicate floral patterns. Caius had his usual black suit, his face was stoic and eyes held a storm even Mother Nature couldn't match. The painting was done mere weeks after Violet's attack at Aro's insistents. Caius and Didyme had argued that Violet was in  no shape to have her painting done but Aro still booked the artist and gathered the materials to hide Violets battered state.

"I hate it too."

Violet tilted her head back, her attention on Caius. Felix, now a member her own special guard, had informed her of the aftermath of her abduction and what Caius had seen to on her behalf while she was in the hospital. Amun had escaped and Caius, with the help of Demetri, had tracked him down and made him a statement to any and all that held ill-will towards any member of the Volturi coven. After Amun was dealt with Caius visited her every day while she was in a medical induced coma, sometimes even having to have security force him off the property when visiting hours were over only for him to come back through the window. She would never admitted it, but she knew of his visits. She could feel him holding her hand, begging for her forgiveness and his prayers to his long forgotten faith and gods for her recovery. He would tell her news about the castle, about how Demetri would mope about waiting for her return and how the chef swore he would feed her with only the best foods when she was finally allowed to come home. She could hear him read to her her favorite books, the ones he would often call childish. No vile word left his lips just words of love and guilt. 

"I know I'm attractive but you will hurt your neck, Nightingale."

Violet heard her words before she could stop them. "Why do you call me that?"

Caius looked down for a brief moment before returning his attention to the hallway. "I call you multiple things."

Violet rolled her eyes. "Never mind," she grumbled.

"Your resilience," Caius answered.

Violet looked back up at her mate, although she would never admit that. "Never in my three thousand years have I seen someone with the ability of adapting to nearly any situation. Not like you." 

Violet remained quiet as Caius parker her chair and came to her side and kneeled. "You fought me at every turn. Met each verbal blow with one of your own. Most people would crumble and break when left for dead in a castle full of vampires, but not you. You rose, befriended guards and queens, learned a new language, inserted yourself into everyone's life and won their hearts with your wit and compassion. Violet, you were a queen long before I ever came into your life."

Caius reached for Violet's hands only to pause and retract his. Violet beat him to it grabbing his and entwinning their fingers. Caius looked up at her expectantly.

Violet leaned forward, her wounds screaming in protest but she didn't care. She placed a quick kiss to his forehead and leaned back. "Your marriage proposal needs to be better than that for me to even consider giving you my hand in marriage," Violet joked, her tone playful but eyes mischievous, "It kinda sucked."

Caius faked hurt placing a hand to his chest. "I will have you weeping by the end of my proposal, Nightingale." Caius smiled. "You will have no choice but to say yes."

Violet challenged, "I doubt that, Mosquito."

Caius rose and reclaimed his job of pushing Violet to the dining hall for her meal.

"Challenge accepted, Blood Bag," Caius answered.