εʠgε σƒ σвʟιvισи [ open/full ]

[Vruez]

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❖ ℓᴏᴄαᴛɪᴏη:thisisahugeassgap❖ ωɪᴛʜ:thisisahugeassgap❖ тʜεᴍε:




A part of Allard had never expected his affection to be returned. He had imagined a look of surprise, a small pat on the back, and perhaps a hand running through his hair, but not his older brother’s arms wrapping around him in a warm embrace, and thankfulness that was all but a whisper.

“No…” he heard himself whisper. “Please, brother, you have nothing to thank me for. It is all my honor…”

Silly, formal sentences, and yet he had always been so proud of the way his silver tongue weaved words together like poetry. Where were the words when he needed them? Where were his wits when he needed to tell his brother how much he appreciated it?

The Incendian wedding robes that he would never wear were soft against his skin, the scent of rose-water and incense faint on it, like the warm touch of his mother before she had turned into all but skin and bones and disappeared behind the iron doors of the infirmary . One of his earliest memories were of tumbling down the cold granite halls on legs that were still learning to walk, and peeking through the long silk curtain around his mother’s bed. When he ran into his mother’s arms, his senses were clouded by the scent of incense and a great bunch of firelilies on the window, and a hint of rose-water and soap in her skin. He remembered her touch still, warm and gentle, the way her fingers ran through his mass of hair and caressed his forehead when he slept… sensations that had long melted away like wax in the gulf of years some called memory.

And then he had grown up, and his interactions had been reduced to a few formal smiles, cool and impersonal, a nod and a bow, and greetings that rolled off the tongue. Allard had welcomed the barrier of etiquette, for he was who he was behind it, but it was times like these that he longed for his mother’s touch or the sound of her voice when she hummed a soft melody to herself while reading. For a moment, Allard closed his eyes, burying his face against his brother’s side, aware of a small, throbbing lump near his throat and all the tears that effectively threatened to wash out. Queen Fiai should have been standing here too, as grand as Queen Kira with her flaming red hair held high in a bun, arms held out for all three of them, a smile of pride for Orinda, and fond gazes for Fia and himself…

Fine crackles of electricity poured out through his brother's cloak, and Allard gave a start, pushing himself away. Flames could not touch him, nor magma, but it was lightning that could penetrate the magic in his blood. For a moment, he looked up, confused and startled all at once, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Brother, are you...feeling all right...?

But then Fia wrapped her arms around them both and pushed past his worries, and Allard laughed out loud, pulling her close into a hug, their foreheads close like children playing on the field. “Terralorian fragrance?” He smiled at his sister, taking a deep whiff of it, “That would be nothing compared to the baritone of brother’s voice when he serenades Her Majesty.”

A step from now, and the Magnus children would have different names, different roles, different worlds, and this little moment would only live on in their dreams.

But it was Marvelle’s words that drove a blade into his heart, and shattered all his hopes in a thousand shards. Allard stood, rooted to the spot, feeling the color drain from his face, as the moment that had stood out in all its golden glory turned pale and brown and burned into ashes in front of his very eyes.

What had he done…?What had gone wrong….?! Had he been too overbearing? Had he seemed too doubtful…?

For a moment, his mouth felt dry and parched like a thirsting man on an Incendian summer noon, and he looked back, almost desperately at his brother, and in the next moment, an ear-splitting boom echoed through the walls of the hall, running a shudder straight through his core and reminding him of the long nights when the rain wailed against the stone keep. A number of things happened at once, and Allard opened his eyes only to see his bride running across the hall, her beautiful grown swishing against the wind…

“My lady!” Allard called out behind her receding form, reaching for her, only to realize that the entire spectacle had an audience. Allard stopped midway, pale as ash, and then drew his hand back. His fingers reached into his jacket, curling around the cool metal surface of a small totem - a butterfly with obsidian wings.

“We cannot risk any word of this going out.“He turned to all the faces in front of him, his head dizzy, and his own voice sounding distant to his ears. “A crowd stands outside, full of anticipation and hope.This could trigger a riot, or even worse, create an opposition to the crown in both Terralora and Magnus Incendia. Please, I implore you; let us keep this between ourselves, your Majesties and Hignesses. And, Brother, “ He didn’t dare look up, knowing the sort of disappointment lurking behind Prince Orinda’s eyes. “Please, go on ahead of me. I…need to go, but your wedding is much too important. Please, tell Princess Imogen not to worry for her sister, I...shall try to keep her safe. ”

Allard rushed ahead, only to stop and turn back towards Queen Kira. “I know this is not the time or place for this…but I also know that I should thank you, your Majesty, for I heard my mother's voice in your words today after who knows how long… “

With that, he rushed forward with all the speed his feet could muster.






QueenArasene

Meareign

blackrose37

HiddenConfines

[Atsunami]

A cold arm draped over his exposed chest, causing him to stir from his slumber. For a moment Ezra was completely disoriented, unsure of where he was or what was going on. There was a pounding in his head, caused from too many spirits the night before. Once it receded he took a look around him, finding he was stark naked in a bed that didn’t belong to him, a dame with fair skin and a mop of blonde hair lay on her stomach beside him, the naked skin of her back bringing about a mirage of images from the night before. Careful to not disturb her, he gently removed her hand and slipped out of the bed, finding his clothes he hastily dressed then snuck out of the room without so much as a word to the poor lass.

As he stepped out into the hallway, Ezra realized he had no idea where he was, whether the woman was a noble or someone of lesser quality, or even what kingdom she was from, which meant he also had no idea of how to get back to his own room. Sighing he meandered down the corridor until he heard the tiny squeak of a mouse. Smiling he knelt to the ground and extended his hand, a squeak emitting from his own lips. The mouse stopped in its tracks and scurried over to the princes hand, plopping itself firmly in his palm. “Hey there friend, would you mind guiding me to the royal chambers of the Terralorians?” The mouse happily obliged squeaking in delight as the dark haired prince placed its small furry body on his shoulder. The mouse continued its squeaking, giving the playboy prince directions to his room. “Thanks friend, I fear it would have caused quite the uproar if I’d been late to my own wedding!” Ezra and the mouse shared a laugh before the creature scurried off, and the male began his preparation for his upcoming nuptials.

Once dressed and ready in his finest brown robes, Ezra left the comforts of his room and made his way down the hall towards the ceremonial area. Though he was stopped part of the way there by a group of noble Terralora girls who wanted just a bit of his time, and of course Ezra being who he was, couldn’t exactly say no, now could he? No, he stopped to give the girls just a little bit of his much appreciated attention. Most of which were comments about how unfortunate it was that he was to be wed.

“I’m sorry ladies, but I told you a long time ago, my heart belongs to another.”

“Is it the Air Princess? Is she the one your heart belongs to?” A self-deprecating smile formed on Ezra’s face, as he pushed a stray strand of black hair out of his eyes. “The one who owns my heart…she is the very breath that gives air to my lungs. Her beauty is unrivaled even by the radiance of the sun. When I’m around her I feel like I have wings and can soar through a cloudless sky. Every waking moment I hear her voice echoing in my head, her eyes, so bright and full of life linger in the back of my mind. And when I’m in her presence, it’s like life itself stands still, the whole world stops spinning, and the only thing I can see, think, hear, is her.“

A mummer rose amongst the ladies as they swooned over his sappy description of a woman that just did not exist. “She’s so lucky! You’re going to finally be together at last!” Ezra smirked, not a one had realized that his words had completely evaded the question of who his heart could possibly belong to, their assumptions leading them to believe he could only be talking about the Princess of Air. “Unfortunately she is like the sun, and I the moon. We need each other to survive and thrive, to prosper and form life, but we also can never be one.”

“That’s so sad.” One of the ladies mumbled, “but why, I don’t understand why you can’t be together, you’re getting married in a few moments!”

He placed a finger upon her lips, hushing the brunette. “Because if the sun and moon come together, they would destroy each other, I could do nothing but break her heart.”

“You could always change.” One of them prompted, but he just shook his head, trying his hardest to maintain a sad expression, when really he wanted to retort ‘I don’t want to change.’

“If only a man could change his ways, like a snake shedding his skin…alas it doesn’t work that way. Besides, I wouldn’t want to break all your pretty little hearts.” Of course they were all like putty in his hands, he probably could have said nothing and his gaggle ******** of girls would still fawn over every word he said. After a little more polite conversation he left the group, and resumed once more, his trek towards the ceremonial area. Though, he was once again stopped, this time by his half-sister Marvelle running away from the group of royals. He deliberately put himself in her path, pulling her into his arms, and giving her a soft squeeze. What in the world had those crazy lunatics done to cause her so much stress. Was it her own soon to be husband? “Whatever that buffoon said or did to you, you must not let it get to you.” He pulled away from her, gripping her shoulders so he could look her in the face. “I know it’s not easy, but you’re no longer a just a princess, you’re about to be a Queen. You cannot allow your emotions to run away from you, or run away when someone makes you mad.” ‘And I really don’t want to be king so you have to be a queen.’ He thought to himself. “Besides if anyone ever does anything to you, just tell me and I will have a private conversation with them in my chambers.” It wasn’t all that often that he showed either of his sisters affection, but he did today, though that was mostly due to the fact that it would benefit him in the long run. He gave her his best smile, but pulled her close as he noticed the approach of the youngest Incendian Prince. “Ah and here approaches the devil himself. I assume to grovel for forgiveness. Make it quick, fire boy, we’ve got some weddings to attend to.”


█████████████████████ █████████ ███████████ █████████ █████████████████████ XXXHow about you wrap your legs around my head so I can wear you like the crown you are.XXX█████████████████████ █████████ ███████████ █████████ █████████████████████

→Mood← Flirty →Wearing← clothes →Location← in a hallway →With← Marvelle and Allard →Thoughts← Link →OOC←



Vruez

QueenArasene

[Vruez]

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❖ ℓᴏᴄαᴛɪᴏη:thisisahugeassgap❖ ωɪᴛʜ:thisisahugeassgap❖ тʜεᴍε:




The tunnels twisted and turned in front of him like a labyrinth, and Allard could feel the back of his head throb like a slow fever. His eyes darted helplessly around, searching desperately for a hint of a green hair flowing free, or the intoxicating scent of fresh flowers, or even patches of greenery left like a trail. Shoes, he thought vaguely for a moment, Her Highness had her shoes…

His mind desperately searched for answers inside his head. What had gone wrong? It had all started so well – where had he missed a step? He had been nothing but courteous – a little too eager, perhaps, but it was simply because he had finally come to look upon this day with fondness and hope. There had been nothing in his behavior that suggested –

Allard stopped in his track, as his breath caught against his throat, and he leaned back against the stone-wall, panting. No, he was all wrong. He had been blaming himself this whole time, struggling with himself to find clues to her behavior within himself and failing. Try as he might, he couldn’t blame himself for everything that fell apart in the whole world of Milos…

The sudden thought was frightening and relieving at the same time. Allard could change himself, apologize, do whatever it was in his power to make her see that her fears, whatever they were, would not come true – but he could do nothing when the issues at fault were entirely out of his scope and control. He felt helpless, and for some reason, glad…

A voice echoed against the walls, and he looked up, startled. There she was, distressed and miserable, in the arms of a young man who did not seem much older than she was. Prince Ezra, the natural son of King Loch and half-brother to Princess Marvelle. Allard hadn’t had much opportunity to meet him, but he’d heard all the rumors and the whispers, seen the squeals of admiration and the looks of disapproval…

And before he could step out of the shadows and greet them formally, the prince turned to him, tossing a remark that was as indignant as it was disrespectful. Fire boy? Even the nurse-maids who have raised him wouldn’t dare address him by anything other than his formal title in public.

“That’s ‘your highness’ for you, Ezzy.” Allard replied, his voice low and calm, as an icy edge crept into it. “Tell me, are you in the habit of poking your nose where it doesn’t belong? Perhaps I shall have to do something about that nose. Besides, it might be a little less effort if you ask your sister first about whatever is plaguing her instead of drawing conclusions. Thank you. You may step aside now.”







QueenArasene

HiddenConfines

[Vruez]

Marvelle had found the first available room- that is, the first room which did not have anyone inside it at the first glance and had a door which could be easily closed- to storm into after her rather abrupt departure from the royal assembly. She knew she was supposed to be there, but she could not make herself go back: not yet, at least. Having to look into the faces of the other monarchs, especially the Caelian royals, would probably only make her burst into tears again, and so she sat here on these cold stone steps, resting her head in her hands. How could it have come to this? Everything had been going so well....

Allard's head felt as heavy as lead. Time was running out, and the great bustle of a howling crowd outside did not still his thudding heart. The halls of the stone keep twisted and turned in front of him, and he followed where they took him, unable to think where the princess might have headed to. Could it be the little garden he had first seen her...? No - she would not go there if she knew he would follow, or if she sincerely wished to stay away. Even now, as he struggled against his instincts, he wondered if following her would be the best course of action. What if she had no desire to see him again? What then? What if they were to miss their wedding...?

The thought of it made him want to laugh. There was no point to a few false vows on a stage if their trust had snapped in two. Their marriage might as well be one of the ancient trees from the little garden, asleep in their stillness, never to be awakened again.

Allard shook his head, panting. The little chase had taken almost all of his strength, and his leaned against the cold stone as sweat poured over him. The Terralorian robes that he had put on so gladly that morning now weighed a thousand tons, the sweeping fabric restraining his steps, making him stumble when he least wanted it. For a moment, Allard wanted to rip it apart.

A small room stood at one end of the hallway, and as his eyes fell on the long train of a green gown, he felt his heart tighten for a moment.

"My lady..." he stepped in her view, his eyes meeting hers quietly for a moment as silence stretched again between them. "I would not ask you to forgive me, nor would I ask you to come back with me. No, I won't ask impossible things. But, I want you to know that if there is anything I can change to see a smile on the face of the beautiful young woman whose touch revives the spring, I would. Please, it's...painful to see you like this. I swear on Esh-ban, I ask for nothing more." Allard looked away. "But if you would rather have me gone, I promise I would leave at once."

Over her light sobbing and wallowing in self-pity, Marvelle had failed to pay attention to anyone who might be chasing her. A stupid oversight, she scolded herself now, as the Incendian prince she would have to marry stood in the doorway, looking at her. He seemed.. kind. Confused, perhaps, but why wouldn't he be? She was the one who had suddenly run away without any explanation, even without any good reason. If anything, she should be feeling grateful that he cared enough to come after her at all. Drawing a breath through her runny nose, she looked up at him. No, he shouldn't be seeing her like this. Not when she was crying, ruining her hair and makeup like she'd promised she wouldn't. This day had really taken the wrong direction the moment she'd decided to join the group of royals. Most specifically, when she'd made herself step so close to the Caelian monarchs. Now look where it had gotten her. It had gotten her here, to this room, where Allard stood over her, probably watching her with pity.

With a sniffle, she cast her eyes up to him again. He was out of breath, ruffled in his Terralorian robes. Like a true prince, chasing after her. "I'm a mess, aren't I?"

"Mess?" He couldn't resist a small smile. "A beautiful mess, perhaps. You only need to look at me to know a mess. Well...I suppose, we're both messed. It is a good start, isn't it?" He bowed lightly "Would you want to be alone...? But, please, your highness, let me escort you to your room. A vacant, unguarded room like this is not safe for you..."

"What terrors does a vacant room hold over one that is filled with your worst enemies, or complete strangers?" Marvelle shook her head lightly, finding a tissue among her accessories and wiping her nose carefully. She was trying not to make a worse mess of her face than she already had, though she was not quite as successful as she'd hoped.

"Assassins, spies, strangers who would hold you against your will and use you as a bartering chip, men who want more than just your life... " Allard said softly. For a moment, he looked around himself, before stepping closer, tentatively, ready to step out if she showed any signs of objection. He kneeled at her feet, reaching out to gently to wipe off a small tear on her cheek. "There are strangers who want very desperately to be known, my lady, unfortunate strangers like me who hope for your kindness. And worst enemies? My sister who I love the most in the world is getting married to a man who killed five of my brothers. She is going to have to be trapped in a world she knows nothing of, and I have nothing to do but watch, and greet him with a wedding gift. It all seems hopeless, yes, but there is the flickering possibility of a future without strife...and if we do not take that, what is the use of living on...?"

"You make it sound so poetic, sitting down and waiting for those who hate you to run you over and destroy everything you love." She sniffed again and recoiled slightly when he reached for her face. No, this was not a day when he could reach to her this intimately, not yet. "Everything I know is about to collapse, and now I have to sit quiet and listen to the forces who have opposed me and mine for eternities lecture me on proper behavior? No, I am not strong enough for that. Marry for my country, perhaps, but this? I can't-...." Her head turned away from him. It was hard to admit it, and she hated herself for doing it, even as much as she hated herself for not wanting to share. Was there no one she could talk to privately anymore?

"Sitting and waiting to be destroyed?" he looked back into her eyes. "When I was a child struggling with my illness and wishing it all to end, my healer told me that no matter what may come across our way, we always have a choice left, a choice of how we must deal with what we face. Sometimes, it may seem that there is no hope, nothing to look forward to, but it would be worse if you refuse to see anything else, for you would be losing the war before it even began. No, I would not be sitting by idly and waiting - I would keep my eyes and ears open, learn all his strengths and weaknesses, and strike when he least expects me to. But that doesn't mean that I wouldn't first give him a chance to change. I like to be cautious. " He smiled then, if just for a moment. "I was a child too frail to play outside, and yet desperate for company and adventure. It was one of my older brothers, Prince Basia, who grabbed my hand and led me to his library and introduced to me the beauty that hides within the pages of a book. It is because of him that I am who I am today. But when I was a boy of ten, he never returned, for his corpse was lying in one of the Terralorian tunnels, pierced by multiple Marisian traps. I remember the day as vividly as it was yesterday, I had cried myself to sleep by my brother's door, and woken up calling for him multiple times. And yet, here I am, so desperately seeking your favor. Tell me, my lady, does that mean that I should hate you...? You who have shown me nothing but kindness?"

"At this point, I would not blame you if you did." Marvelle sighed heavily. She knew she had overreacted, and once again found her consciousness turning to anger at being lectured about her silliness. Didn't he know that she felt bad for leaving them standing there? It should have been so obvious; why else would she be hiding from everyone but him? Besides, the note about how his brother had died in Terralora had been unnecessary- was he trying to garner extra sympathy? At this point, it wasn't working, because Marvelle was not exactly in the mood to extend sympathy to someone else before she had made up her mind about herself first. "As a monarch, it is always your duty to take the blame for the actions of your people." And your own actions, she scolded herself. Look at me, acting like I know what a true monarch would do, and still running away from it when it matters most.

"And I never would. " Allard smiled. "All I'm saying that you are not the only one, my lady. I don't want to blame you for how you feel - lord knows, I've felt worse when I seethe like wildfire without the ability to change anything - but perhaps, that makes us all, friend or foe, similar and longing for company at the same time...? After all, isn't that why these weddings were arranged in the first place? To be able to look at your worst enemy as the next of kin? I'm not handling it any better than you are, but in the back of my mind the truth shines like the sun on a summer day, that we've wronged them as much as they've wronged us, and no matter how much it hurts to admit it, it is all there within the pages of history My brother Basia would never walk this earth from the tunnels of Terralora, but he would not like to be trapped in the abyss of my bitter memories either. I have a feeling...that if I ever hated you for his death, I would be desecrating his memory..." he paused, gazing over her face. "We have a saying that fire never forgets, that fire leaves a trail of ash and smoke that is too hard to forget, and when doused with water, the embers remain. We seethe in our own hatred, and that is a pitiful way for fire to burn. I'm not saying that you should forgive them - lord knows I can't - but you can use your enemies for the benefit of your people even in times of peace. Send them a peace agreement, show them that you're much greater than they can ever be, use the end of war to generate popularity among your people....the options, my lady, are endless...After all, they do say 'keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.' "

"Is that what our betrothal is to you?" She blinked and looked at Allard. It had been a thought she'd had again and again about him this day and every time she asked, it seemed to be getting more true: was he really just doing this for the political reasons? If so, he had gotten himself a wonderful spot. Oh yes, he would be marrying the future Queen of TerraLora, a girl his age whose maturity was far below him, giving him a wonderful figurehead to run everything from behind the throne... And she would be his tool, the pretty adornment he used to conceal his actions, the cushion that would take every blow of retribution that came after him. What had he said? He didn't hate her for his brother's death. Was that a hint that he hated her for something else?"Merely a way to attain political dominance and power, everything neatly concealed under the guise of peace?" It was almost funny. Yes, it seemed likely that this was exactly how he thought, and she had no choice but to go along. Oh, he'd said she had a choice but every one of them knew that with the ancients, there was not really a second choice.

"Had it not been for this engagement, my lady, I would be somewhere in a monastery of the Sun-god, living a celibate life as a priest and researching pyrotechnology." Allard couldn't help a small smile. "To be honest to you, I had always the impression that it was my brother who would be getting married, not my sister and I, and it came like a blow. My world fell apart. all the plans I've made until now came undone like a knot on a rope, and I was afraid - terribly afraid - of leaving home to be banished among a court of former enemies with their suspicious gaze directed at me, not seeing Pyrandon ever again in my life-time, not seeing my brother's face in court, or the idea of my sister having to marry a man whom I hated with every breath. But it was you who made me rethink my life, and when you revived a dying tree in front of my eyes, I realized that I had given up even before I started. I want you to remind you of that moment now, the one when you reached out for me when I was all but lost, and return you the favor... " he glanced up at her face. "You and I were never enemies, and even if, the shreds of our enmity were purged by fire in the garden that day. "

"You know, you don't seem like a very religious sort of person to me. But maybe that's just me reading things wrong again." She sighed. "I seem to be doing that a lot these days. Maybe it's just that I've never been away from home like this before." With a slight shrug, she dabbed her face again and this time, she had actually managed to stop crying. Looking at the tissue, she wondered how she looked. She would be needing to see a mirror before the ceremony. Oh dear, the ceremony. They were late, weren't they? It would be terribly disrespectful to miss the wedding of her sister and .... she would have missed seeing her sister one last time before they got married. "I think we might want to hurry back, shouldn't we?"

"Religious?" Allard shook his head, laughing. "I'm sufficiently religious, but it is not religion I'd hoped to be a monk for. The abbeys of the Sun God are full of old and forbidden books that are barred to commoners and royals alike for the sort of knowledge they hold. Only theologians and philosophers are allowed entry, and they're all monks. " he smiled lightly. "It takes all your willpower to look straight into the eyes of your enemy and still be calm. The only reason I seem to be able to do that is because I do not want to displease my brother any further, for he had struggled so hard to make us see his way of peace. When I first came to the Sanctimonia, it took me days to get used to the shadows, the darkness, the swishing of water against stone, the howling of the wind against the walls, and the idea of living with the Marisians under the same roof. Sometimes I feel I've been sort numbed...by all the deaths I've had to see in all my life. Ten of my bright, young brothers, a very special friend, then my mother...and my father... loss certainly wasn't sudden and harsh for me, but slow and insidious and sinking. I remember losing control of my powers one day when I'd lost my....friend and a brother on the same day, and...to be very honest, I was nothing less than impressed with how well you seemed to handle the shock that...hit like a hammer. " He paused, looking up at her. "We should...only if you still want to go through this wedding. But...seeing as it's already been late, I don't think we need to anymore..."

"What do you mean, it's already too late?" The tone spoke of disbelief and shock. Prince Allard, the man who would give up his political marriage for no reason at all? No, that couldn't be. It fit nowhere with her constructed image of how he thought, how he would act. Was it only a clever play on his part, or was he serious? His eyes spoke of seriousness, and Marvelle knew that the speech of the eyes was hard to fake. So he was being honest, even though it made no sense to her. How could he he give up on this marriage so fast- no, that wasn't what he was doing, was it? He was offering to withdraw from the marriage for her sake.

"You said you were not ready for this." Allard looked up quietly. "There is no point in doing something that has lost it's meaning, is there...? In time, we both shall be ready, I suppose, but by then the marriage would become something dry and hollow, like a withered flower not even you can bring back to life. Are you certain of this...? We do not need to do this - we're both the younger ones of our respective Houses. My brother and your sister have already carried on with the union of the two nations. " He paused. "But to be very honest with you, my lady, I wouldn't be afraid to defy the Ancients, if you so wish. Fear of perishing is not so great to a heart that has had to deal with it since the very first moment of conception - at some point of time, it becomes a restless uncertainty that stops you from living your life on your own terms, it weighs you down like a couple of shackles to your feet at all times. I'm tired of living my life under control of someone...no, something else...But my only fear is for my people..." He smiled, if only to lighten the moment. "And besides, how cowardly do you think the Ancients are if they have to execute a sickly boy who has only but seen six-and-ten summers?"


"I said I wasn't ready for this. But tell me truly, are any of us? Your sister, my brother- hah....." Marvelle shook her head lightly, almost feeling bad for Ezra. He would have to deal with being married. Hopefully, his bride would have the sense, or at least beauty, to keep him out of the palace maids for a while. Princess Naivara was said to be beautiful, so perhaps- just perhaps- Ezra could finally settle down. Mother Nature knew he'd caused them all enough trouble with his outgoing lifestyle in the past. "This is not about us being ready to wed, it is about making a commitment before the assembled eyes of the nations. Angering the ancients is not what you should fear: angering your people by disobeying them is what should scare you, as it scares me."

For a moment, Allard looked back into her eyes, a small smile forming on his lips. Then, he bowed deeply before her. "Spoken like a true Queen, my lady. My tutor was a believer of the fact that there is no age to responsibility, and that true readiness is something of a myth. He also believed that you should fake it till you make it. Should we leave then, my lady ? Oh..." he paused, reaching inside the cloak of his Terralorian wedding robe, withdrawing what seemed to be a silk handkerchief, bundled together. " This does not qualify as a wedding gift to a bride who has the spring wrapped around her finger-tips, my lady, but it was something I thought you would like to see. "

"Yes, I'm afraid we should leave and face whatever the future is intending to throw at us." And so, Marvelle raised herself from the stair step she'd been sitting on and adjusted her hair. At least the hair had survived her sudden flight reasonably well- the only thing she'd need to worry about was the makeup, which her tears had messed up. All that was unimportant, however: The only people who would really see her close up would be Allard (and he knew how she looked already), the shamans and, she supposed, the other princesses. As her betrothed spoke up about a present, she turned to him again, stowing away her handkerchief- gods knew she would likely be needing it later- and laying a watchful eye on the bundle in his hands. "I think that a bride who runs from her own wedding because of a comment made by the Queen Kira is not in a place to be particularly picky about what gifts she receives or not."

"I must be lucky then, " he smiled, "because my runaway bride returned, reborn from the ashes like a flame, and I can think of nothing but flames that would match her spirits." Allard turned, suddenly holding the little bundle over her head and letting it free. Bright red and gold petals showered over her in a small rain, clinging to her dress and her long, free hair, and a little flower fell at her feet, its petals like flames, standing out against the grey stone with an elegance of it's own. It's scent was strong and sweet, with a sort of intoxication to it like a hot summer noon. "The last firelilies of this season...I had managed to save a bunch before we came away. They grow in the harsh rugged rocks of pyrandon, the branches full of thorns, and live on for days with only bits of water. A little gift, to the nymph who dances the world into a frenzy of the spring."

"You know, I usually prefer flowers whole- petals and picked flowers may be beautiful, but what is beauty if it kills the plant? It's not worth it, if you ask me." Nevertheless, Marvelle offered her hand to Allard so he may lead them back to the ceremonial grounds, or to a bathroom where she could fix her makeup. Though maybe he liked it the way it was- it was certainly very authentic.

"The flower would not thrive in this world of shadows, my lady, and the plants lay buried deep under the flood waters of Pyrandon." Allard replied. " This was the last bloom that I had managed to salvage for the sake of reminiscence and nostalgia. You see, my mother used to keep them on the windowsill by her bed when she was still alive, pregnant with my brother, in a porcelain vase half filled with water, and you could smell it far into the hallways. They say that a certain sort of desert snake is drawn to the scent. Tell me, my lady, wouldn't you preserve the last signs of life if all you see around you is death...?"

"Perhaps you are right. If everything you see is death, every sign of life that remains is valuable and should be held tight." She mused, picking one of the petals from her hair and turning it carefully around in her hand. The flowers were unlike anything she had ever seen and up close, they seemed even more beautiful. Red, of course. That was likely because they came from Pyrandon- she imagined most things there were red or ashen colors. Still, the vibrant hue was amazing and almost enervating to look upon. Yes, she could understand why one would want this sort of flowers by their bed. The smell, calming and yet tantalizing, and the bright colors..... "I would love to find out if it is possible to grow these flowers in TerraLora as well. It would be an enrichment to us to welcome them among our flora." With a smile, she handed the petal to Allard, though it had now grown into a whole flower under her hands. "A sign, perhaps, for a better future. Come now, Allard, let us not keep our people waiting."

For a moment, Allard couldn't help but close his eyes and breathe in the scent of the fresh flower that had bloomed from but a petal. "Thank you..." he said softly, his voice think with nostalgia and a certain wistfulness as strong as the scent of the lily. "Would you...turn around for me...?" he asked, his voice gentle, as he reached out, careful not to touch her skin, tucking the flower into the obsidian hair-clip that held her hair. And then, he held his arm out. "We came here apart, but I am glad we're leaving together, my lady. I hope you can find it in your heart to trust me with this privilege in the future, of walking with you where no one else can. Please, may I hold your hand...?"

"I'm afraid, Allard, that you will have to keep the flower to yourself. If it is on me, nobody will notice it. Besides, as an Incendian prince, you should wear at least something that identifies you with your kingdom." Gently, she untangled the lily from her hair and stuck it carefully to his wedding robes. The bright red flower against the dark, earthen robes had quite a nice effect. "After all, I cannot be the only one on whom flowers grow." With a gentle smile, she offered him her arm. It was not the hand, but at least the next best thing. Holding hands seemed... perhaps a little below their station.

"You're too kind, my lady..." Allard said, as his face lit up in a soft smile. And as she moved closer to tuck the flower into his robe, he pressed his own hand on hers, for one fleeting moment, before releasing it. And when she offered him her hand, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Perhaps I should add it to my vow that I plan to remain subservient to a certain someone for a lifetime, but for that, we need to reach the ceremony grounds. Follow me, my lady. "

And before he could lead her to the balconies, Allard slowly lifted his wrist to his lips, kissing the wreath of flowers around it.

[Meareign]

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The crowd beyond the stage had filled to brimming, every hole in the expanse plugged by a new face of anticipation. Nobility had stolen the front rows of spectation and royalty had populated the wings of the stage. A few heads were absent, and their presences were not unnoticed, but this event was sensitive to the passage of time - they had a deadline and it was not made to be cut close. The hour had come for Orinda and Imogen to wed.

In the center of the stage stood two clergymen, one Incendian priest and one Terralorian shaman, awaiting the couple before the witnessing masses. The stage was sparse compared to what tradition demanded, but each betrothed had been able to request at least a few ritual accents to help fortify the validity and sanctity of these stripped-down ceremonies. Around the scene stood six total candelabrum - three on either side of the clergymen - that were full of fresh candles. A pair of Incendian handmaidens scurried to quickly light all of the wicks and exit the scene, casting a warmly lit glow over the stage from two angles. At the edges of the balcony laid a series five flat stones in a circular pattern, each far too heavy to be lifted by a single man. Atop each of their polished surfaces, symbols had been marked in fresh blood - one to represent prosperity, another for perseverance, another for loyalty, another for fertility, and finally, one for balance. In accordance with the now fallen king’s request, the stage had been reinforced the day prior in order to hold their great weight.

Orinda stood on the threshold between the eastern wing and the stage, looking out at the scene bittersweetly for the passing of a few moments. His marriage was upon him and it was only then, as he stood on the brink of his fate, that he finally felt the gravity of the commitment he was about to make. Another new weight sunk in his stomach and settled atop the hundred other rocks in his gut. He felt heat sting behind his face for a second and he swallowed down his betrayal of House Conflatus with a slow, deep breath. Ea stood beside Orinda now and presented something to him on a pillow.

Terralorian Councillor Norvik stood beside the Earth Princess in the western wing with the most somber of expressions. Of course, this was something Imogen could not discern with her eyes, but even so she could still feel it in his presence. It was almost as though his cumbersome frame had somehow become heavier in the last few moments. Rigid. Alert. Unforgiving. The scent of the air did nothing to calm her nerves, either. In fact, it seemed to outright assault her senses - a strange mixture of smoke, blood and sweat. Though, she couldn’t be sure whether it was the smell or the situation itself that forced her stomach to turn in fits. Suddenly, Norvik’s offering of lavender made complete sense. Smarter than he looks. She stifled a chuckle, huffing in another breath of the sprigs’ calming aroma.

"You'll be needing this, Your Highness," the advisor in the east wing said to the prince. Orinda blinked away the haze of his melancholy and let a faint appreciation cross his face as he reached up to his temples and lifted off the braided circlet he had been wearing. Passing it to the old man, he lifted a new crown from the pillow presented to him. This one was more like a headdress, wooden and leafy, but it was symbolic. This was a traditional Terralorian matrimonial piece and, by choosing to wear it today, he hoped that it would be meaningful to the masses. And, maybe, to his bride... but she couldn't see it, could she?

The time to enter the stage had come. In a flurry of motion too jumbled to follow clearly, Imogen's bouquet was plucked from her hands and replaced with a small, ornately carved wooden box. “Off you go,” the councilman grunted, shoving the bride-to-be haphazardly out and onto the western wing of the stage. All at once, she felt hot and nauseous. The floor seemed to sway beneath her, the room swirled in circles and her breath shortened. But, the cool stone beneath her bare feet gave her comfort and a sense of solidarity. Only a few seconds ticked by before the princess managed to collect her will and reign in her senses. “Right then.” With a deep and slow breath, she straightened her spine and marched forward.

Orinda emerged onto the stage from the east, fully regaled before the surviving peoples of Milos. Slowly, he made his way to stand before his priest and begin their ceremony. Apart from a small stumble at the last step of her ascension to the platform, Imogen's journey onto the stage from the west was relatively uneventful. Flushed and determined, she arrived and took her place before the shaman and beside the prince of fire. Orinda's eyes fell upon her and he could not have missed her choice of attire - she wore a moon priestess's gown with a finish like buttery satin, the wedding dress of an Incendian - but if the gesture affected him somehow it did not show on his face. With the betrothed standing now together, before gods and citizens and family, the clergymen initiated the ceremony. The Incendian priest spoke first.

"Children of Esh-Ban and denizens of these shadowed halls," he said, his voice carrying clearly over the hushed masses with a practiced and compelling roar, "today we have gathered to stand and witness a moment of extraordinary history the likes of which our world has not seen in all of its aeons. In this moment, standing before you are His Royal Highness, The Lion of Lightning, Crowned Prince Orinda Havell of Magnus Incendia, soon-to-be His Most Royal Majesty, King Orinda the First of His Name. With him stands Sentry of the Void, Daughter of Earth and Stone, Her Highness, Princess Imogen Tuly of TerraLora."

The priest fell quiet, and the shaman opened his voice. "People of this new realm, we gather here under the eyes of men and kings alike to witness and pay homage as these two souls begin a new season. Together, may we pray that in years to come the earth in your bones gives you strength, and perseverance…” Pausing, he lifted his gnarled wooden staff into the air and smacked its metal-bound base into the floor, effectively sending an earsplitting crack across the expanse of the area. “That the water in your blood bestows you with health and abundance…” again, crack, “That the air in your lungs guides you to freedom, and clarity.“ Crack. “May we pray that the fire in your souls gives you light, and the power to see one another, even the darkest of times.” Crack. “And above all, may we pray that no matter which way you may falter, that balance, in time, will prevail.” Twice more, crack crack. The shaman turned his eyes on the Incendian priest.

The priest produced a long strip of cotton cloth, shimmering faintly in the flickering candlelight with a dusty sheen of minerals. Incendians could recognize this as a jalankapara, a mooncloth: linen soaked in water from the Great Volcano's mineral-rich hot springs and blessed by a priestess of the moon. For a handful of seconds, Orinda turned his eyes towards the floor, away from the clergymen. There, beyond the couple, he saw that the two sets of candelabrum were casting the princess's shadow and his own towards each other; they overlapped in the middle. "The betrothed are to present their hands," the priest prompted, and once they had he gently bound them together with the cloth. "It is said in the passages of The Song of the Inferno," he explained, "that, in the beginning, there was only the Sun, Esh-Ban, and he shone beautifully above the world's people every hour of every day. All the world admired the Sun, with his passionate loyalty and his warming rays. Like the people below him, so too did the Moon, Ava-teah, admire the Sun. One day, they met. The Sun saw the Moon, a serene but marvelous temptress, and knew that he could not be without her. They fell quickly into the depths of love and the Moon convinced the Sun that they should bind inseparably to each other, never to be on their own again. From then on, for half of every day, the Moon rose into the sky and allowed the Sun to rest, borrowing a ray of his light every night so that she might still glow in the darkness for his people below. When an Incendian marries, it is this same union that he enters: one of unbreakable commitment, enduring love, patient compromise, and shared responsibility." He fell silent for a moment and looked between the prince and princess.

"It is at this juncture, Your Royal Highnesses, that you may speak to each other the vows of your marriage and exchange any gifts that may serve as symbols of these promises. Princess, if you would begin."

Recognizing her cue, Imogen turned uneasily towards the Incendian prince and drew in a shaky breath. From the box in her grasp she pulled something small, and shimmering. Closer inspection revealed a carefully crafted silver puma pendant. Taking its accompanying chain in both hands, the princess took a moment to scan the area in front of her now, an act that left Orinda wondering how much she could actually see. She saw there was a figure there, a figure she’d glimpsed once or twice before. Tall, lean, and broad shouldered. Yes, he was probably a fine specimen. Still, to Imogen, his face was a blank. Nothing but shadows, darkness, and silence. He was a stranger she’d never even seen. The thought of it sent a rush of genuine fear tearing through the blonde’s smaller frame. Tears burned at the brims of her pale eyes, threatening to break free and spill forward at any second, and the prince felt a fresh pang of guilt for being party so something that inflicted such turmoil. Nevertheless, the young bride managed to sniffle them back and plaster smile on in its place.

“To claim we know each other well would be to mar the truth. This I cannot do. But I can, and do vow to you now that I will do everything in my power to be a Queen worthy of you and your great kingdom. I will stand beside you. I will honor, cherish and defend you. And I will dedicate my life to the protection and prosperity of our family, and… our people. No matter the cost.” With only slight hesitation, she took a half step towards the soon-to-be king, bounced up on the balls of her feet and gently clasped the chain of the silver pendant around his neck. “The lion of the mountain is a symbol of valor, courage and power. Like you, he watches from on high with great focus and patience; a creature of bravery, leadership, and precision. Quiet and noble. May it serve as a reminder of the enormous strength that lies within you.” Her hands slipped down to rest momentarily on his chest, hopefully emphasizing the importance of her next statement. “And when all paths seem lost, or exhausted - may it always guide you home.” She took another shaky breath, folded one hand over the other stepped back. “Crowned Prince Havell of Magnus Incendia, I, Princess Imogen Tuly of Terralora, am honored to hereby pledge my life, my loyalty, and my love to you and you alone… From this moment forth.”

Orinda would later confess that, standing there on stage with Imogen as she promised him her love, he felt a great deal of conflict. It was such a dangerous promise to make, nevermind how he felt a sudden pressure to promise the same in return. But, in those half-dozen heartbeats of quiet that fell after her vows, it was something else that he prepared himself to say.

From the folds of his ceremonial robes, the crown prince produced something small and white, less than three inches across its widest point. "In the few moments we found to speak in these last few days, Princess," he said, putting intentional effort into the rich fullness of his baritone so as to counterbalance any tremble that might otherwise threaten his cadence, "I managed to present you with a hairpiece. It is an artifact of our volcanic culture and honored my heritage. It occurred to me, though, that I knew very little about the traditions expected in Terralorian marriage."

Oh no, an unsettling thought occurred to Imogen at Orinda's mention of a hairclip. In reaction, she flushed a fair shade of pink, her eyes widend and the tiniest of gasps found its way free from her smooth lips. Whatever the case may have been, she quickly touched the knuckle of her forefinger to her lips and directed her hazy eyes away for a moment. The Prince continued, thankfully unhindered.

"When I asked, I learned the importance of the totem, like what you have just given to me, but as I searched my mind for the right symbol, I was met with difficulty. You see, as I reflected on what I knew about you, a creature did come to mind. During Incendian summers, the city we call Fertilis Valley - where we grow some of the very richest of our domestic crops - flourishes with a population of exquisite little creatures, the pazuni dragonfly. They enrich the valley's prosperity by protecting it from pests like aphids, mites, and gnats. The most remarkable thing about this creature, though, is that it is immune to the venom of its only potential native predator; its body produces its own miraculous antitoxin, so potent that it can even be used to cure many poisons in humans." If anyone wasn't following along until now, it was at this point that they would probably recognize the relationship Orinda saw between Imogen and the dragonfly. It was a toxin, they said, that cost Imogen her sight. "But as I was recalling this dragonfly, I was reluctant to make my choice. 'How limited of me,' I thought, 'to equate this princess with her blindness? There are a thousand more sides to a young woman than the feature that is most apparent at first glance.' I thought that surely there was a truer creature made for you, if only I knew you well enough to recognize." He was stricken by faint anxiety as he pointed out her blindness, not feeling comfortable enough with her to speak freely and directly about the handicap. He worried that to do so was somehow insensitive or rude. In the end, though, he had decided not to dance around the issue and speak of it simply as it was.

For the second time now, the princess found herself compelled to turn her gaze towards the floor. Begrudgingly, she complied to the whim. Deep down, a foreboding sense of uncertainty had begun to take root. Naturally, the woman's brow furrowed lightly in response to the tension - though her well practiced smile remained fully intact all the while. It seemed impossible that anyone, let alone the son of the wrathful Fire King, could be so thoughtful and candid.

"As I continued to dwell on my decision, though, I slowly realized that there are a thousand more sides to the pazuni, as well. First, there is the obvious. They produce a miraculous antitoxin that protects not only the creature from the cruelty of venom, but has also protected millions of others from suffering poison. Second, there is the prosperity they bring to our land, harkoning seasons of green valleys and honey-sweet apples. Third, there is the beauty their flittering wings add to the world, casting rainbows across the fields when they catch the sun. And fourth, there is the endless list of knowledge about you, Princess, that they remind me I have yet to learn." He revealed, then, that the token in his hand was a little white dragonfly totem. It was carved carefully from ivory and the wings were set with polished, milky dolomite gems. A long, splendidly delicate chain hung from its tip; Orinda thought it might have been queer to just hand it to her and say here's a totem, carry it around.

From Imogen’s other senses alone she could gather that his stance had changed and he now he held something shimmery in his hand. Tears once more seared at the edges of her eyes. Inevitably, they managed to break free this time, jarring Orinda somewhat, though he decided it was better at the time to just continue and not draw attention to her. For the sake of habit, or instinct, or for whatever reason she quickly moved to brush them away with her fingertips and willed together an acceptable response. “It’s beautiful, I’m sure,” she interjected as he continued to speak, not loud enough to interrupt the prince. Even so, the smallest tinge of sadness might have still been detected by those who listened closely.

"That is what I hope this totem will mean to you. I hope that it will be a symbol not only of the trials you have and will continue to defeat, but also a symbol of the protection and magnanimity we, together, feel as royal servants to our people. I hope that it can be a symbol of the prosperity I vow that I will strive to bring into our lives and our relationship, a symbol of the beauty you carry both outside of your skin and within your heart, and a symbol of the promise I am making to you today that, even though as we stand here we are strangers, every day I will know better what million things about you there are to admire and respect." He reached forward and draped the chain over her head, allowing it to fall around her neck. At last, the ceremony turned its attention back to the clergymen for the conclusion.

The shaman raised his staff in recognition of the vows' completion, then nodded in approval. “If there are any among our people who would see fit to condemn this union, now is the time to stake your claim.” Silence. “Then it is my privilege to bless this marriage in the name of the Goddess, and all who serve her," then the priest, "and in the name of Esh-Ban and his thousand warming rays," finally, in unison, "may you both live long and well. You are now pronounced wed.” Only then, almost like an afterthought, did the priest add a statement spoken in a foreign language - the ancient ritual tongue of Magnus Incendia. "Tawakirikhva hakeul Esh-Ban, ahna astoat jink akat oakah liwaleush ha ei asshekh ha kemol."

Imogen had hoped she'd have felt relieved at this point. Much to her dismay, that wasn't the case. In fact the opposite effect seemed to occur. Her throat tightened and her fever rose. Sweat saturated her palms and the floor felt as though it had begun to sway beneath her feet. Had she a collar to loosen, or a breath of fresh air to gulp down, she would have. Sadly, neither of those luxuries were even close to being at hand, but they would be soon. She grinned and turned her head in the fire priest's direction. Little did the clergyman know, he had now become the only thing standing between her what she wanted most - the path the exit, and away from prying ears and eyes. Well, not the only thing...

When their hands were freed from the mooncloth binding them, Orinda reached to take Imogen's hand. Grasping it, he led her slowly to the crest of the stage where they would stand before their people and briefly speak an address. Or, that was what Orinda was told they expected of each couple, anyway. A bit of something akin to panic welled up in the Imogenn’s chest as they approached the edge of the stage. She had forgotten about the speech in all the commotion. Damn, she thought. Orinda came to a stop with his bride, feeling a little bit at a loss for what else there really was to say. Maybe all they really needed was for him to reiterate the obvious? Well, it was something.

The culminated energy of the sizable crowd filled up the entire floor and crept up walls with its massive presence - each of their heartbeats filling her ears with their fluctuating rhythm. Imogen, in all her years, had never witnessed anything quite like it. So many people of so many sects in one place. Nevertheless, she abided by the lessons she’d been taught, squeezed her now-husband’s hand, and put on her bravest of faces.

Orinda turned firstly to the section where the Incendians were dwelling. "My people, today we learn that even in these dark times, when our homes and our great father seem so distant, we may be blessed. Today, just as I have gained a bride, all of Magnus Incendia has gained its second princess - and soon, a king with his queen. May this blessing breathe a fresh breath of stability and safety into our society..." he paused and, just then, he smiled the smallest of smiles, "...if only until we have the resources and confidence to be our rowdy, prosperous selves again." Orinda turned secondly then to the front of the stage, addressing the whole of Milos. "To everyone of all kinds, citizens of our world, it is my hope that this may be a blessing upon you as well. Magnus Incendia and TerraLora have been united, and henceforth your allies are our allies. It is now that we reach, more determined and motivated than ever, for the Age of the Armistice. May it be our salvation and our joy for generations to come."

Attention shifted quickly from Orinda to Imogen after he’d finished his statement. Accordingly, Imogen choked down her fear, cleared her throat and spoke - her tone one of resolution, previously reserved specifically for such occasions. “People of the four realms... Today, we mark the birth of a new world.” Her melodic voice seemed to carry across the chaos with relative ease, which in itself was a relief. Proof that her words were heard. “Today, for the first time in ages, we stand united as one. Today, we defy all odds and cast off the shackles of hatred, and war. And today, here, together, we shed light on a future once thought all but lost to the darkness… May the gods look favorably upon the bonds we forge here and may we all be graced with peace, prosperity and hope for years to come!” A charming smile spilled across her features as she took a half step back, tugging gently at Orinda's sleeve as if to ask him to accompany her off stage. Together, then, the newlyweds turned away from the masses and relinquished their positions in the spotlight. They moved back towards the prince's wing where they passed through a doorway and into the palace. There, they were away from the eyes of their people and could stay in privacy or go as they pleased.

[The Carrion Crow]

_______Once free of prying eyes, the crushing weight of the whole circumstance immediately began to melt away. The princess gasped for air upon reaching the corridor, almost as though she’d emerged emerged from a pool of water. Slowly, her heartbeat slowed, her dizziness dissipated and the cold sweat that had broken out across her tender palms began to disappear. Yes, despite her worst fears, the deed had been done, and the world had not come crashing down around them as a result. “Thank heavens, it’s over.” Dark lashes fluttered closed as Imogen drew to a halt and turned to face the Incendian Prince. The situation had de-escalated, though a million thoughts still raced through her mind - concerns regarding the both the well-being and whereabouts of her siblings, ranking very near the the top and most aggressive of the lot. ‘Pull it together, you numbskull.’ A quiet reminder chimed from somewhere inside her head. This wasn’t the place or time to wallow in regret, or self pity. There was still work to be done.

After the Earthen maiden managed to quell the raging storm within did she allow her her azure eyes to snap open and take in what few details they could, Only there, with the light shining from behind him could she finally make out the silhouette of the Terralorian Crown atop his head. The image was still dark, and clouded. Nevertheless,she both was certain of her assessment, and flattered by the gesture. “Oh!” Imogen gasped - a sheepish and sincere grin spilling across her previously strained expression. “Your crown. I hadn’t… It’s just -“ Again, she let out a quick sigh and collected her scattered thoughts with an iron will “Thank you, Orinda. Though I don’t know you well, you seem t a far cry from anything I’d expected.” In a subconscious display of curiosity, she nibbled gently at the rosy flesh of her lower lip. The time had come to address him as a member of her family now. Clearly, the need for grandiose formality had come and gone. Or.. at the very least, diminished significantly…. Or had it? Either way, the blonde cleared her throat and reached out to run her fingers down the silken collar of his robes. “Allow me to apologize if what I said during the ceremony made you at all uncomfortable.” Unfortunately, she’d sensed his discomfort on stage the instant it had arisen. Such was the curse of condition - a disgruntling level of innate awareness. “You’ll come to find I have a habit of speaking my mind too freely, and too often. Rest assured, I don’t expect you to love me… At least, not in the romantic sense of the word, and certainly not right away… Or perhaps at all, for that matter…” Her brows furrowed lightly as she withdrew and folded her hands behind her hips.

“You should know, I let go of those fantasies some time ago. I’m not a child, and I’m perfectly capable of living a full and meaningful life without any of that fairytale nonsense.” After casting a brief glance towards the ground, she turned her eyes back on her new husband with a playful smirk. “Appearances aside though, all I ask of you is that you give me your respect and honesty.” A brief and hefty pause filled the air for a few seconds before she continued. “That you don’t shame me with pity, or undue praise… That you dance with me every now and again. And, divine willing, that you give me plenty of children to love and adore.” The first inklings of genuine laughter chimed through the air at her last request. Perhaps it was too soon, and too forward to touch on the subject of children. Regardless, sons and daughters were something Imogen had always wanted, and Orinda deserved to know and understand her intentions before they went any further.

“Of course, should true feelings ever arise between us as, I’d welcome them. But I won’t be wounded or disappointed if they don’t, either.” Again, she stopped and carefully inspected her thoughts before continueing. “Furthermore, I’d like to say that I’m terribly sorry for the fate you and your family have been dealt. I’m not unaware of all that you’ve suffered, or the tremendous strength it takes to continue to give hope to your people when so much of your own has already been jeopardized, or lost.” Again, she nibbled at the supple flesh of her lower lip, glancing away before re-establishing what she hoped was something close to eye-contact. “If there’s anything I can do to aid you, or give you refuge from your burdens, don’t hesitate to ask…” A chilling surge of anxiety slipped up her spine at what she was about to say next. “Even it means your seeking comfort elsewhere… Please know that I’ve no intention of making any of this harder for you than it already has been.”



{ Inside the palace } { Orinda } { Relieved } xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



ooc: ------ short post is short

[Meareign]

"You know how to charm a man, Princess," Orinda said. He stood in place where he had been patiently looming the whole time Imogen - suddenly more talkative than she had been in all of the last five days - monologued her thoughts to him. Orinda's words were facetious - half-heartedly so and mostly drowned under the exhaustion of his years of anxiety - but they still had an intonation of well-intended taunting at their roots. While he understood what she was saying and how she intended for the message to be received, it was also not lost on Orinda that one of the first things she said to him as his wife was, Go sleep around with other women if you want. Way to root for a home run.

He found that he was uncertain what to do whenever she "looked" up at him. On one hand, the voice of reason in the back of his conscience told him just to look her in the eyes like he would for any normal person, but on another hand his gut made him feel like doing so was like staring directly at her handicap as if she was some kind of leper, and that was a terribly rude notion. But then on the first hand again, she probably didn't think it was rude to look her in the face when that was the most normal and respectful thing for people to do. But back to the second hand, she wouldn't really even know the difference; he could look more or less at any part of her and it probably wouldn't matter to the girl...

Shifting away from his own meek sense of humor, he added to his earlier remark. "If you find it in your power to relieve the sorts of burdens I carry, Your Highness, I hope that I am the first you tell about it, because I have yet to meet a riddler so clever." He felt nervous at the prospect of being candid in this way, though, so he proceeded: "Would you like to accompany me back into public? I would never dare miss the weddings of my siblings, my sister would have me suffer for it, all of this fanfare about the apocalypse aside."

Orinda snapped his fingers off to the side a few times, absently lighting a few sparks between his fingers, and the young servant Su showed up with two glasses containing a sharp-smelling bubbly fluid. He took one glass and reached to gently pluck up one of her hands, pressing its stem into her fingers. Only afterwards did he take the second glass from Su for himself. It may have seemed absurd that she just suddenly appeared for him at this moment, but in reality he had requested a post-wedding drink first thing that morning and he had seen her show up with the libation out of the corner of his eye just then.

"This is cingaripani," he said. It was like a hybrid of champagne and vodka, crafted primarily out of native Incendian potatoes but with the flavor brightened by apple and imported maple. "I don't know about you, but now seems like a good time to start celebrating. We can discuss procreation later." He raised his glass to take a long, slow mouthful, welcoming the sting of the alcohol on his taste buds.

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Location: Just inside the palace, west wing | Feeling: Distracted | Company: Imogen | Opinions: QuestLog

[The Carrion Crow]

_______There was something about the Prince’s demeanor that set her on edge… She took in his reaction in carefully poised silence despite this - pleasant expression tacked in place all the while. Though, the flicker of electricity sparked from Orinda’s fingers upon summoning a servant forced the Terralorian to flinch ever so slightly. Without thinking she took a small step back, effectively enlarging the space between them. Her brows furrowed, and the muscles strewn through her shoulders tightened. Still, the princess smiled amicably as Orinda moved to lay the stem of the glass against her fingers.“Cingaripani, is it?” The first taste was sharp, unexpected. But somehow, it seemed to her a familiar flavor. She allowed herself another sip before allowing herself to comment. “It’s lovely. Thank you.” Then, with admittedly less-than-ladylike demure, the princess quickly swallowed up the rest of it and handed the glass back to the servant from whence it came. A multitude of thoughts poured through her head at an increasingly high speed. Still, she managed to calm herself as she collected some of the length of her gown in her palms. Just then, another figure appeared some distance down the hall - a woman, clad in dark robes with pale skin and raven hued hair. Resting in her hands were a pile of parchment and a leather-bound book. Though, instead of approaching she merely stood and observed with a somber expression. However, Imogen seemed to take notice of her presence right away. Almost instinctively, her gaze darted from the fire prince and over to rest on the dark silhouette. There it lingered for a few seconds before finally returning to Orinda. “No, I’m afraid I… I need to rest before I return to the fray. Thank you again” The fingers of her left hand shot up to glide over the surface of her totem as she turned towards the newcomer and began to take her leave. “I’ll be sure to return as soon as I can.” Only upon reaching the dark haired woman’s side did she pause again to turn and wave a brief farewell. “And please, just call me Imogen” But before any form of response could be iterated, the stranger quickly snapped up the princess’ hand in her own, yanked her off into a juxtaposed corridor, and out of sight.



{ Inside the palace } { Orinda } { Relieved } xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



ooc: ------ short post is short

[Eternally Gone]

Zephyr could understand what both of his parents were saying to him; they wanted him to be happy on this day, but go with the knowledge that this marriage was political in nature, providing peace for the kingdoms that were intermarrying. His father wanted him to provide a united front for the kingdom while his mother wanted him to embrace his new wife, even though their customs were far from similar. “If you would all excuse me for a moment, I must return to my room in order to get my future wife’s gift.” He bowed to both of his parents, and winked at his sister. It was the best he could do for her. With their father present, he was expected to uphold decorum, and not show favoritism.

Approaching his room, he gently picked up the feathered headdress he was to gift his bride. It was beautiful. The main feather was a large feather from Caelus, the Roc god of Caelum. It was soft and white, and flowing back. The rest of the feathers were dark peacock feathers, to make the white feather stand out. It was accented in gold and pearls that had been specially bought from Marisian merchants. It felt so light in his hands, that Zephyr was afraid to crush it beneath his hands.

He knew it was time to head towards the ceremonial stage he would share with everyone else. It felt uncomfortable to him, to not be marrying in the traditional way, but he was sure that it was the same for his bride. He vaguely knew what she looked like. As he took his place in the Prince’s Wing, he grew nervous. Zephyr could hear the deafening murmurs of the crowd beyond the curtain.

---

Aurelia could feel herself being ushered onto the stage. Was it her turn already? Did they announce her name? The voices seemed muffled, like some low ramblings of a madman. The male who entered the stage at about the same time was standing in front of her but Aurelia could not register it as though she developed a case of prosopagnosia. Was this her groom? Is he the prince of Caelum? Granted, he was rather good looking but good looks did not belong to the royal family alone. But then again, if he wasn’t her groom, he wouldn’t even be on the stage in the first place.

She clasped her hands, trying to provide some warmth to her cold finger, sincerely hoping that she didn’t have to touch anyone. Every second felt like an eternity and Aurelia could feel the eyes on her. She could see mouths moving but she couldn’t hear the words. Was it her turn to say something? Did the air prince even say anything? How did Gen’s ceremony go? Aurelia couldn’t even remember something that happened just a moment ago much less her vows but she couldn’t screw this up, not with her brother and her people around watching her.

Taking a deep breath, Aurelia did what she's best at doing. She smiled.

Zephyr heard his name, called and without thinking, came to the stage. An offical who was doing the announcements had a booming voice that echoed off the walls. "Her Royal Highness, Princess Aurelia Evelyn Marisia of the Water Kingdom is joined in Holy Matrimony, in front of you all as witnesses, to His Royal Highness, Zephyr D'valinn Caelum of the Air Kingdom." Zephyr finally laid eyes on his bride, and she was lovely. Everything about her was beautiful and simple. Turning to her fully, he placed the feathered headdress on her head gently, and kissed her forehead.

There was no priest, or holy man, about to give them their vows. Just a simple magistrate. "Zephyr D'valinn Caelum, as Crown Prince of Caelum, it is now your duty to protect, honor, respect, and care for the Princess Aurelia. Do you promise to uphold all of these responsibilities? This is not just the promise of a Crown Prince to a Princess. This is also the promise of a man to a woman. If you feel that you cannot uphold this, please say so now, and we shall continue no further," the magistrate bellowed, more so the people in the audience could hear. However, to Zephyr, it felt like the man would curse him if Zephyr couldn't go through with the wedding. "I promise," he said stoically. Satisfied, the magistrate turned to Aurelia to give her the vows.

Aurelia turned her head towards the magistrate and gave a subtle shake of her head. Maybe all Aurelia was suppose to do was to say I promise after the vows were read to her but feeling that if her mother was here in spirit, she would be disappointed. Once again facing the prince, Aurelia took a breath. “From this day on, I-” A pause. “I, Aurelia Evelyn Marsia promise to respect our differences, laugh with you in times of joy, comfort you in times of sorrow.” Another pause. “I will honor and cherish you and will remain faithful to my words for better or for worse, in times of sickness and health.”

There wasn't much else that really needed to happen. They had been joined together in a public assembly, and later they would be signing papers stating that they both agreed to take each other as husband and wife. Zephyr gently put his hand on the small of her back, and led her towards their side of the stage. They were to wait for the rest of the couples to be publically joined, before anyone could leave. They all had to show a united front. "The headdress looks lovely on you," he whispered, still staring forward. He knew he shouldn't have been talking, but he wanted to hit this marriage with the ground running.

“That’s it?” Aurelia thought as she walked to the side of the stage. A small part of her felt that she should have said something for her people even though words of love and promises to a man she’s just met was close to impossible. Getting out of the spotlight, Aurelia finally heaved a small sigh of relief, a little more aware of her surroundings. “Do I have to stand here till every pair finishes their ceremony?” the female wondered as she stole a quick glance at her husband. Though Aurelia wasn’t big on seeing her brother marry the fire princess, she didn’t want to miss it.

Her back stiffened upon hearing her husband’s voice.

“Oh uh, t-thank you” Aurelia whispered back. She didn’t get a good look of the headdress but it was definitely lighter than she expected. Aurelia thought about what she should do with it after the wedding. Leave it on the dresser? Continue wearing it for the day? “Can I even keep it?” Aurelia wondered for a moment before deciding to start with small talks. After all, awkward silence was pretty unbearable for the female. “So um, hello” Aurelia whispered, taking another quick glance at her husband. “You can call me Lia”

“Holy loreley, did I really just ask the prince of Caelum to call me by my nickname? I must be out of my mind” Aurelia thought as her cheeks turned pinkish red. “So, are there other Caelum traditions for weddings that needs to be done?” Aurelia asked softly, pretending that the previous sentence didn’t happen as she fiddled with the sides of her dress as though it was the most interesting thing she’s felt all day.

He really hoped the ceremony wouldn't take too much longer. Granted they were just starting, but he felt like he was a spectacle. Zephyr hadn't made a grandiose speech, probably to the chagrin of his father, but he was not going to be the King of Caelum any time soon, and he would properly address their people when the time called for it. Stealing glances at his new wife, Zephyr was uncertain - they hadn't had any time to meet each other before today. He blamed himself for this, as it shouldn't have been her responsibility to seek him out. With the death of her mother, and then the Terralorian King, it was no wonder they hadn't met. The timing was just inappropriate.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess Aurelia. I will make a note to call you Lia in the future," he said, glancing sideways down at her, with a smile. "Please feel free to call me Zeph. Not much of a nickname, but it's less of a mouthful than Prince Zephyr." His new wife looked quite cute with the blush coming across her cheeks. He thought it very polite that she would ask about other Caelian traditions, as far as weddings went. "There is the act of jumping of a high tower with a parasail. It is a symbol of trust and unity. However, with all of us needing to be presented to our people, there was no time to procure such a place. We might hold a separate, private ceremony for our kingdom's people later. If you are comfortable with such a thing, of course." He wouldn't make her jump if the idea terrified her, traditions be damned. "Is there anything in the Marisian traditions that you'd like to uphold? I am willing to learn your customs, so we can be more comfortable around each other, despite this being a political union."

Zephyr was willing to make adjustments, regardless of his own traditions, if it would keep things peaceful between the two of them. He knew that Aurelia had a brother as well, and as an older brother himself, he knew that he'd probably be under scrutiny for a while. It would be the same for the man that Ella was to marry. Glancing down at his new bride, he saw that she was fiddling with the sides of her dress, probably out of nervousness. He could understand that feeling. He gently took her hand, and squeezed it gently. "It'll be okay," he said quietly.

Aurelia had climbed plenty of towers when she was a child but jumping off one? That’s a first. She had just about a million questions mostly revolving the parasail or if anyone died from it but her heart skipped a beat when she felt the squeeze of a warm hand and along with that lost beat went most of her questions. As nerve racking as the moment was, Aurelia felt assured and it made her smile slightly.

Deciding that asking questions could be saved for later, Aurelia leaned back a little, putting a poker face over her mischievous grin. “I’ll jump off that tower with you if you dance in the rain with me” She wasn’t sure if patriarchy was the system that the air kingdom have but if it is, then she would have to go through with it whether she liked it or not. Since it was going to be like that, Aurelia figured she might as well add in a bit of her made up terms and see how he reacted to it. “Well, he did ask about Marisian traditions” Aurelia assured herself, eyes widening as she suddenly realized what she forgot.

Pulling her hand out of his, Aurelia reached for her weave discreetly from her sleeve and stuffed it into Zephyr’s hand. “And um, here. I’m supposed to give you this” Aurelia mumbled. It was supposed to be perfect but due to last minute alterations of adding white and silver patterns along with the closest thing she found resembling the crest for Caelum, Aurelia still felt that it was inadequate. “In Marisia, every child would learn how to weave and come up with their own design over the years to present it to their other half on the wedding day.” she explained.

Dance in the rain? he thought. It seemed like a safe enough idea. "I have no problem with this. And do not worry, I would never let anything happen to you, while jumping off the tower," he replied. He had no doubts that should their parasail fail to guide them safely, he could lower them both to the ground safely, with his abilities. He still couldn't get over the idea of dancing in the rain. He rarely danced as it was, not that he was terrible - it's just that Caelians normally needed a very good reason to break out into dance. Most of the dancing he had done had always been for formal events.

Feeling something stuffed into his hand, Zephyr looked down at it. "It's lovely, thank you," he said, genuinely smiling at her. He'd never had anything like this before. "Maybe I'll have it woven into my cloak...hmmm or a blanket?" He wasn't sure yet, but he wanted it to be where it would be seen. He was impressed that she had managed to get the white and silver, along with what looked to be the crest of Caelum. It wasn't the easiest pattern, even for the women who had to sew it into the military's tunics.

Zephyr was quiet for a moment, before speaking again. "Tonight I have a meeting with His Highness Orinda, but I'd like to spend time with you before then, if you do not mind. I feel we have some catching up to do." It probably wasn't the most opportune time to meet with Orinda, but after today, they would probably both be needing the fiery coffee that was being offered.

Upon the mention of the fire prince, Aurelia sighed inwardly. “Your husband is friends with the enemy. How did that slip your mind?” she thought sarcastically before turning to Zephyr and smiled, pushing thoughts about the fire kingdom away. “Sure, I don’t have anything planned for the day. I would suggest going outdoors but the weather seems to want us indoors…unless you don’t mind the rain” Aurelia said, adding the last bit as an afterthought with a slight twinkle in her eyes.

Zephyr was not blind to the fact that Magnus Incendia and Marisia were enemies, but Caelum and Magnus Incendia were not. He also could not have refused Orinda's invitation regardless - they were all there for the sake of peacekeeping. He would have gone, enemies or not. He did take into consideration his new wife's place in this situation, and he knew it was awkward. That was why he offered to spend the day with her. "I certainly don't mind the rain, if it meant I could get to understand you better," he spoke quietly, smiling at her. Zephyr didn't make it a point to go out and play in the rain, but he knew that water, in any form was something important to Aurelia, and he would endeavor to make her feel like he was trying.

Misaki Koizumi

[Meareign]

"Very well," Orinda answered plaicatively, watching the princess stray away to go do... whatever it was she needed to do. He hardly knew what that was, after all, but wasn't about to protest against what she thought was best for her. A few moments passed as he looked after where her shadow had cast onto the wall of the hallway and he tried to put his finger on what it was that had him feeling so... empty. Slowly, his mind wrapped itself around a thought: she was just so... cold. The more he thought it, the more precisely correct the word felt. He felt as though he had just bared his soul to her and she was answering him with icy business transactions and formal gestures. True, she had offered him permission to address her more casually, but somehow even that felt like it was some kind of duty.

Orinda did, at least briefly, try to reason with himself - he mentally explored the possibility that the culture of TerraLora was different and their society expressed themselves with nuances to which he wasn't sensitive. That was completely possible, right? That she was offering him self-expressions and he simply didn't understand them? Well, maybe. Even if that were the case, it didn't change the fact that he was suddenly feeling empty and unfulfilled by this whole arrangement.

Suck it up, at least that's all you're feeling, he thought, remembering his sister.

Orinda had wandered discreetly (as discreetly as he could now that four bodyguards had reunited with him) back outside the walls of the palace to view the stage again. He found a place next to Adviser Ea and Lady Fiamette on the edges of the crowd, away from the limelight. He didn't feel a need to broadcast that his... wife... was already separated from him.

It wasn't long before Prince Zephyr and Princess Aurelia were summoned to the stage for their ceremony and Orinda settled in to watch the show. It stands to reason, then, that he was almost startled when it ended as soon as it had begun. Was that all? he wondered, glancing around a bit as if he thought he might be missing something. When he realized that the new couple had left the stage and was not returning, he thought inwardly, Wow, okay, and tried to shake off his baffled reaction. The notion of such a short and unceremonious ceremony was so wildly foreign to him that he struggled to grasp it.

That might make for some conversational fodder later, anyway.

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Location: On the edge of the crowd | Feeling: Distressed, Startled | Company: Ea, Fiamette, other nobles, bodyguards | Opinions: QuestLog

[Vruez]

Far too fast, the shamans had worked to set the stage for the next wedding. Her own, Marvelle realized. It was her wedding that they were preparing, and she would have to go down there and get married to a man she hardly knew. Or did she really know him that little? Perhaps, after all that had happened earlier, she did not know him quite as little as she thought. And he- well, he probably knew far too much about her than was good. The thought brought a wistful smile to her lips. If only that were true, she told herself. With what he is to become, he will be the one who is supposed to know most about me. It was an odd thought, really. This stranger, who had marched into her life and demanded her hand in marriage, who had still found the time to sneak his way into her heart in a way. He was the one they called upon, and then her name rang out in the announcement of the next wedding. Torn between wanting to stay behind and living her own life and getting this wedding over with as fast as possible, she started her way to the platform.

So few steps, and yet such important steps. Much too quickly, Marvelle found herself on the stage before Allard, before the priests and mostly, yes, most of all, standing before the assembled people of Milos. Trying- with surprisingly great success- to keep herself from shaking too much, she sunk into a light curtsy before her betrothed. Not too deep, of course, since they were more than equals- or rather, she was supposed to be of a slightly higher station than him. Nevertheless, it was important to keep up the courtesies for the common good.

Allard had stepped at the far end of the queue, for not only would it be disrespectful to wed before others who were older or of higher station than him, but because a part of him was as restless as a flame on a wick, and another, more persuasive part of him compelled him to watch every moment of the weddings before him. As a very young Incendian prince being wed to the future Queen of Terralora, he had absolutely no opportunity to make a mistake. This was to be his first public appearance in front of the Terralorian crowd, the echoes of which would last forever in his life as a Terralorian royal, or in the pages of history. It was now or never.

All Allard wanted to see was the reassuring presence of his brother, tall and steady, in front of his eyes, but Prince Orinda was in company of his new bride and it would be improper to interfere - lord knows, he had been enough of a burden to want to steal even this moment from his brother. As his eyes ran frantically over the crowd, he gripped into the kerchief in his jacket, his finger fondly brushing over the Magnus coat-of-arms. For a moment, Allard couldn't help but turn to look at King Damian, anxiety churning in the pit of his stomach, and then he straightened and walked ahead to his bride. "Are you all right, my lady...?"he asked softly, his voice all but a whisper as he swept into an immaculate bow, towards the people and towards Princess Marvelle. "Trust me, it would be much faster than you think."

"No, Prince Allard," Marvelle replied softly, offering him her hand so he might lead them to the altar, "It has only just begun." It was true; at least for herself. There would be no going back, and though she knew he had talked about the wedding, she was speaking about everything that it entailed, which was the rest of their lives. For a moment, she felt truly grown up. A powerful woman, committed to committing herself to this man she barely knew for the good of everyone else. Her back straightened out and her gaze radiated confidence as she swept it over the amassed crowd. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for- at least every Terralorian, herself included.

"May this beginning never end. "Allard smiled, taking her hand in his as he kissed it, holding it gently in his grip and stepping towards the altar, where the gigantic rocks stood side by side, marked by what could only be dried blood, and a bit of a bush. For a moment, Allard wondered if the blood came from the same elk from whose antlers his head-dress had been shaped from, only to realize that they were deep beneath the earth where no hunting took place, for food was scarce and little. The rituals lived on, losing their old meaning and significance, slowly evolving into a culture where they would seem lost and out of place. His finger traced against the Magnus kerchief one last time - perhaps in time he, too, would forget that he ever held the name Magnus, and the Terralorian language would be as smooth on his tongue as Incendian, and his words would hold little metaphors that had to do with growing things than flame and smoke. For a moment, he couldn't help but wonder if that was good or bad...

...No, 'good' and 'bad' never existed in Allard's world. His choice was between what was beneficial and what was not. And if losing his old identity held long-term benefits beyond measure, who was he to object? A monarch couldn't afford the luxury of a simple world of black and white, for they were all as grey as the stone around them...

A deep booming voice rang before him, and Allard shuddered for a moment. A Terralorian shaman had taken his place by the altar, and called out, his voice ringing high and loud. "It is a strange moment in history, when the fates choose not one, but two daughters of Terralora to be joined with the sons of Magnus Incendia. We gather here now, to witness this moment a second time, as Her Royal Highness, the future queen of Terralora, the Evergreen Flower, Marvelle Flora Terralora would be bound for life to His Royal Highness, The Golden Prince of Magnus Incendia, Allard Jon Magnus. May the bride and the groom step forward, and embrace the spirits of the wild that lurk within the hearts of every man and every woman born on these soils. Arise!"

The stone halls were filled with the sound of applause from a million pairs of hands, and the sound echoed and reverberated and wailed within the walls, and for a moment, Allard couldn't help but remember the faint patter of rains that began the day when he had first stepped under these stone vaults. Carefully, he reached inside his cloak, withdrawing a small velvet box that lay against his heart, and held it out to the glorious princess before him. He smiled. "What better than the agent of spring for the one who blooms like a flower even among stone?" The box contained a pendant, a butterfly made entirely of silver, with waves and little flowers carved on its wings purely from obsidian. "A butterfly," Allard said softly, "for the daughter of the spring."

Marvelle felt surprisingly calm. It was as if all the worries about tripping, forgetting her lines or making a fool of herself otherwise had dropped away from her the moment she stood there, in front of everyone. Was she not, after all, the princess of the commoners, the one they knew and loved for being herself? She was, and she would go through this wedding flawlessly, just like they wanted her to- expected her to. That was what her task was. Gently, gracefully, her face lit up into a smile as the shaman drew into his words- words she knew and had adored for a long time. In that moment, it did not matter who she was getting married to- she was getting married. Some said that the ritual this entailed gave the betrothed a deeper connection to themselves, each other, and nature itself, and Marvelle could just about confirm that for herself. It was beautiful, in its own slightly scary way.

When she was called upon, she turned to Allard. After meeting his eyes for just long enough to show him that she was no longer afraid, she dipped her head to him so he could place the pendant over her neck. It felt cool, smooth on her skin, though not cold- probably because he had warmed it on his body by having the small box over his heart. From her own pocket, she produced a woven container made from grass that had long ago wilted. With her head looking up at Allard again, she opened it and revealed a small hawk inlaid with onyx and amber feathers. There was one thing that was slightly off about it; but it could only be seen close up. If you looked very closely, you could see that the hawk's beak seemed oddly shaped, making it look very much like a duck when turned the right way."A hawk for the son of the sun, who circles above and sees all." And a duck for us two, she mouthed silently, so we remember not to take ourselves too seriously.

"I hope my ties to you are as strong as the ties of metal and stone." Allard smiled, his eyes on hers, as he leaned forward, gently slipping the little chain around her neck. "Is that...a hawk...?" For a moment, Allard couldn't help reaching out, taking the totem in his hands and lifting it before his eyes as a soft smile lit up his face. Carefully, he reached inside his cloak, and she would see a glimpse of the little duck she had given him, wrapped around his kerchief, tucked safely into his belt, the fresh green grass now turned dry and yellow, but still intact. He bowed low in front of her, his voice a small whisper. "And I would have nothing better, my lady..."

"Then I have made the best choice, it seems." Marvelle raised her hands and placed the chain of the totem over his bowed head, leaving the small hawk to dangle in front of his chest. The left corner of her mouth arched upward at the glimpse of their grass duck- he'd kept it, that silly little gift she had given him as a joke. Somehow, that was very enamoring- very cute in its own hopelessly romantic way. Withdrawing her hands from his neck again, she turned to the shamans again. The formalities from each betrothed had been upheld, and now the time had come for the true ritual.

The shamans stepped forward again, bearing their large staffs with metal bases. "People of Milos, is there any among us who objects to this union? If so, step forward, please, and announce your name and status to the crowd, followed by the reason of your objection. I shall count to ten, and if no such objections have been put forward, we shall bless the couple before us with the offerings of the divine Goddess, a bag of seeds of the dogwood tree, to be sowed by the bride and groom together. Henceforth, I shall begin my count: one... two...three... "

Allard closed his eyes, withdrawing from the altar and standing with his head held high towards the Terralorian crowd and a smile on his face. No man would dare to go against the future queen and her husband, even if he happened to be an Incendian, this much was certain, but there was a tiny thorn of uncertainty that pricked within his mind. For a moment, he wondered if he should have had Kairon spread favorable rumors about himself among the Terralorian population to combat the backlash...

....ten. " The shaman finished his count, closed his eyes for a chant, and turned to Allard and his bride. "It is said that the seasons begin with a sapling. The summer brings the fresh new leaves, the spring the flowers, the autumn turns the leaves pale and old, and winter lets them fall. You are both but in the summer of your lives, and we bless you with the prosperity of spring when we bring you this" A young woman stepped forward, holding a tray, bearing a silk pouch in the center of it. The shaman raised it above his head and held it out for the people to see, "The goddess' blessings, held in handful of seeds of the dogwood plant. May the bonds of your marriage grow and strengthen each day as the roots of the sapling take hold."

Allard bowed, holding out his hand to receive it.

"Blessed of the Goddess, step forward now and announce to Milos your vows to yourselves and your peoples. May the love with which you join your hands together before the goddess to declare your consent, never fail, but grow stronger like the roots of the tree deep into the earth and bear fruit when spring comes."

Drawing a deep breath, Marvelle straightened her back and stepped a deliberate step forward. This was the time, the possibly most crucial moment in the entire ceremony. Her next actions and words could throw the world into oblivion or maintain the shaky peace for years to come. It was quite a staggering thought, but there was no time to consider that right now- silence could be just as dangerous as words. Gently, she unfolded her hands, spread her arms slightly and raised her voice.

"The day has come for us all to look at ourselves and realize that we, at the very core, are all the same. This is the time when we, the people of Milos, unite to one force again for the first time in ages. We, the royal families, have come together to demonstrate this bold step into a brighter future before all of you. It is our dearest wish that you will be able to put aside preconceived notions and follow us, help us in building the future we cannot bring around alone."

She turned slightly to Allard, motioning him forward slightly so she could take his hand."It is in this image that I, Marvelle Flora Terralora, have been chosen to wed Allard Jon Magnus of Incendia- a union I embrace with all my heart. Together, we will stand stronger, much like a house of fired bricks stands stronger than a house of dried clay." Finally, she turned all the way to the side so she was facing Allard, for the following words were his: "And with this hopeful picture in mind, I pledge my devotion, my heart and my soul to you, knowing you will guard and cherish them until the Goddess sees fit to separate us again as she sees fit to join us now."

"And I shall, with all my heart, for as long as it beats for you, my lady." Allard smiled, taking a step forward towards the altar, his head held high and his arms stretched out, to hold hers gently in them. He glanced at the people of Milos, and for a moment, he turned to face them, his eyes meeting those of the audience, before sweeping them with a bow. "My vows may be for my queen alone, but know this, people of Milos, you are the driving force that holds us together, like a cog to a gear. I was anointed with my name before you, it is with you as my witnesses that I take my marital vows, and I hope that it is among you that my flame withers away on its wick, like so many of my brothers, my father, and his father before him."

"They say that love does not just sit there like a stone; it is made, like bread, and remade, and made anew. Perhaps love and peace are not so different as many think they are." he said softly, "I promise that my love for you shall be as tender and green as the foliage in spring, my loyalty as steady and unwavering as the rocks beneath, unchanged by the seasons or the storm, and a flame of fervent passion shall burn forever in my heart, fusing you and me into one, our spirits purged together like blades wrought in a flame.” Allard bowed low, “I, Allard Jon Magnus, pledge to you, Marvelle Flora Terralora, my heart and my mind, my hand and my spirit, and promise to love you and be worthy of your love, to be your ally in conflict, your accomplice in mischief, your guide when you are lost, your student and your teacher, and above all, a true and loyal friend who shall stand by you for as long as our flames burn together. May the love we share be an obsidian link – strong and deep and mysterious.”

Marvelle marveled. Whether or not Allard truly meant the words he said, every one of them rang clear and true from his mouth. It was heartbreaking to hear his pearling speech after her clumsy attempt at a public announcement, even more a marital vow. She had never been a particularly articulate poet and it showed clearly. Luckily, none of that mattered anymore: what was done was done, and the shamans knocked their staves onto the earth forcefully. Smack. Smack. Smack. Throughout the crowd, a hush spread, silencing the whispers that had sprung out during their vows.

The head shaman waved his staff with a knob at the end, beginning his proclamation in the sudden silence: "People of Milos! Witness now, as with the grand blessing of the Goddess and your silent consent, we bind these two together with vows and crystal."

With great grandeur, he produced a long chain of red and green crystals and displayed it to the assembled populace. "Your vows," he began as he approached the pair, beginning to sling the chain around Marvelle's hand, "Bind you together in spirit. Now it is my pleasant duty to place upon you a true binding of the flesh, a union unbreakable as the earth." The chain, cool and smooth, went around Allard's hand as well, clicked.... and the shaman raised their tied hands toward the sky, calling out his final words: "By the power vested in me by the Great Goddess herself, I now pronounce you man and wife!" A light rumble of earth seemed to emanate from the stage, as if the very ground they were standing on approved of the union. "You may kiss the bride," the shaman added in a lower voice to Allard, letting go of their hands.

"And now I am but a prisoner of your love, my lady, "Allard said softly, smiling, his eyes meeting hers as his finger brushed gently over hers, threading into them. The chain link that bound him to his bride - no, his wife - was cool against his skin, and the air held the sort of surreality in it as a dream. Was it truly over...? His eyes flicked a glance at her for a moment, and he couldn't help wondering what she had been thinking. A part of him wanted to breathe him a sigh of relief, and the other balanced on a thin line of anxiety and elation. Princess Marvelle was right - they had only just began, and the end was far, far away.

It was the sudden suggestion from the shaman that rung through his head, and Allard blinked, turning. For a moment, he could feel the color rise in his face, and then his eyes fell on the waves of crowd that had erupted into a deafening cheer, his mind half-wondering if his ears have failed him. "My lady, would you mind..? I do not want to force it on you..."

So few minutes- or had it been longer than they thought? In the haze, Marvelle had lost count, and all of a sudden she was married. Was it really that easy? Say a few words about love and adoration, have your hands tied and nothing more? Her mind raced for an answer, while the pleasant smile remained on her face. Yes, they had gone through the entire ceremony without a hitch, without complaint from the people. Almost furtively, she sneaked a look at her freshly baked husband. He was saying something to her over the rush of the crowd, blushing. Something important, probably, but the crowd was cheering very loudly indeed. To hear better, she watched his face and brought her head in closer.

Allard leaned closer, meeting her eyes, hoping for a response. He could still hear the great crowd cheering in front of them like waves of people crashing over the little stage, and he raised his hand into the air, motioning for the cheers to stop. And as she moved closer, Allard couldn't help but look hesitantly from his new wife to the shaman to the crowd. Was it a nod...? A sign of approval..? No, there was no point in taking a risk so great. As far as his research had gone, he knew nothing of such a kiss during the wedding ceremony, Princess Marvelle too had never mentioned it... A wrong step could cost him his beautiful bride, respect of her people, and respect towards his own nation. Worse still, it could mark her as an incompetent ruler easily swayed by emotions...

Allard gave her a reassuring smile, one of his arms gently wrapping around her shoulders. His other hand reached for hers, his fingers brushing lightly over her skin, as he pressed his lips to it. "My kisses shall be yours forever, my lady, but this moment never again."

The crowd was cheering loudly, but Allard came close enough that she could understand his words, even when he spoke silently- in fact, he was so close that she could feel his breath on her neck when he whispered to her. Marvelle shivered. It was a strangely intimate moment- almost so much that she felt inappropriate for having it occur here, in front of everyone. Color crept to her cheeks at the thought, and she hardly noticed as he pressed his lips to her hand. When she did notice, it helped nothing but further increase the chagrin she wallowed in. Oh, what an innocent creature she was, so easily swayed by a whisper and a promise.... And yet, shouldn't she allow herself to be swayed by this man, who was going to share her life from this point on?

"Look at me.."he said softly, leaning close as his eyes met her, his fingers caressing the side of her cheek, as he tipped her head forward. For a moment, he looked into her eyes, his fingers running gently to push away the strands of hair behind her ear, and then his lips pressed gently against her forehead, warm and moist and tender on her skin. She smelled of fresh flowers and meadows green with daisies and summer grass and a part of him wanted to drown himself in her hair, but he lingered on, only to kiss her lightly on the cheek one last time before he pulled back. He released her then, but his arm still lay wrapped around her. "I may have said this many times before, my lady... " he whispered in her ear, "... but I would be a fool to resist the urge to say it again. You are beautiful."

Look at me, he said, but when she did, he evaded her gaze and pressed his lips to her forehead instead. Marvelle gave an awkward giggle, unsure where she should place her hands or even her feet in such a situation. Clumsily, awkwardly, she stood still as he enveloped her. His scent was that of embers, smoke and fire- not a very unpleasant smell, but not one she was used to or one she very much liked either. If it were stronger, it would have been biting, driving tears into her eyes. Fortunately, it was thinned and rounded out by the almost overwhelming fragrance she carried around with her- when everything you wear is flowers, you smell strongly of them. Finally, he let her go and whispered to her. Now, it was her turn to stand on her tippy-toes and gently put her own lips to his forehead: equals in affection and action. "All my beauty is yours to keep now, Allard. It will not wither if you call it by its name," she whispered back to him, breaking away so as not to prolong the intimate moment too much in fear of the crowd getting restless.

Allard drew back, tentatively, careful not to touch her any more than he needed to, but when her little giggle rang in the air, he looked up in surprise, a small smile of relief lighting up his face. His little nymph was back again, with the same look of mischief that he was afraid was lost all day. And when he felt her lips, warm and soft, against his skin, he laughed and drew her close with his arms around her waist. "So the little nymph wants a name, does she?" he whispered in her ears, "How does Her Majesty feel about... Ellie ?"

"You shall be allowed to call me whatever catches your fancy, my lord." Marvelle likely wouldn't mind- much, unless he invented any number of vulgar names to call her. With the way he held around her, though, this seemed unlikely. Impossible, even. It was snug, perhaps, and his hand seemed out of place where it touched her, driving the color into her cheeks yet again, though not as strongly as the last time. Again, Marvelle could see herself as a child: young and inexperienced, rushing headlong into an adventure she could not even now, while it already had started, fathom the final depths of. Allard seemed so calm, so collected, almost as if he had done this a million times already. But he hadn't, had he? Somewhere deep down, he was probably just as unsettled as she was, equally eager to break into dance or run and hide in the darkest corner he could find.

He released her slowly, taking her hand in his as he stepped forward towards the end of the stage where the crowd began. Allard looked up, raising his free arm high for all to see. “People of Terralora, my heart may be made of fire and blood, and magma runs deep in my veins, but the link that ties me to you is of diamond, born of the flames and cooled by the earth, as enduring as the rocks deep beneath and as brilliant as the sun overhead." he reached out, dipping his free hand into the torch-light till the flames consumed his flesh. “No flame shall burn it, no hand shall break it, and its bond shall be as strong as the magic that runs in all our bloods, be it Terralorian or Incendian or Caelian or Marisian.“ Allard raised his burning hand and waved it in the air till the flames died down, leaving his skin unscathed and untouched as it was before. “People of Magnus Incendia, brothers and sisters, say it with me again : may all our flames burn together!”

He turned to her then, his queen of the spring, and smiled. "Take my hand, my lady, and I shall follow you anywhere."

[KingReejer]

Standing there with his sister, he heard a group approach, turned to look at the herd of people. Before he could consciously comprehend who was there, half of the group departed. The king and queen of the air kingdom departed, most likely to find their seats, one of the earth princesses departed in a huff after breaking a glass object of sorts and then the youngest fire kingdom prince followed soon after, leaving Prince Orinda of the fire kingdom and... that woman... Seeing her kiss Orinda's cheek, give him a vial of some strange liquid and then link eyes with him with a wave of her delicate hands, caused his blood to run cold. Confused he looked toward Aurelia and whispered to her, "That was the woman from before... She is here for the ceremony... Which means... Oh ********] Closing his eyes and rubbing his face he couldn't help but remain highly confused.

All along that woman was the fire kingdom princess, Fia... It all made sense now, why she was asking about his opinions on the princess, trying to tell him how she was and prying for information... As his fingers ran across his eyes in a dumbfound expression he sighed and didn't know what to think. Everything was coming full circle yet it didn't make it any better. His soon to be bride was the one that was playing some game with him and ended up kissing him... why? What did she have to gain, why did she do this, what was the point? None of the answers arrived as soon as the words of another graced the group, telling them to come into the separate wings for brides and grooms before they could begin. Following Orinda into the wing he stood there in a separate reality, unsure of what to think or feel anymore, void of any emotion except this constant confusion gnawing at him as the weave was held firmly in hand.

The roar of the crowd was like thunder in her ears. She could tell as her brother stepped forward that it thrilled him to the core, but for her, it felt like something else entirely. Sure she was used to being in the spotlight, but not in front of this huge of a crowd, and not with so many onlookers, from not just the Incendian region, but all the nations combined. The Fire princess for the first time in a while felt suddenly small and slightly afraid. Every nerve in her body told her to turn around and run, but it was with a great amount of will power that she chose not to and instead forced herself to stay rooted to the spot, her eyes glued on her brother waiting patiently in the wing across from her. Was he even the least bit afraid, or nervous? It didn't seem like it, in fact his wedding seemed to go off without a hitch. It was nothing like the normal Incendian Weddings she'd seen all her life, there was no giant fire roaring with the spirit of the Incendian nation, no pit of coals for Orinda to whisk his bride away on. It was a quick ceremony with a clergyman from both sides, a quick binding of cloth, an exchange of totems and vows. Crap, vows. Fia was nearly in a state of panic now. What the hell was she supposed to say to her own husband? Um hi, yah, I pledge to not try to kill you in your sleep? Her mind continued to run over all the possible vows she could come up with that wouldn't start an all-out war.

By the time the union between Zephyr and Aurelia commenced, Fia still had not a clue as to what she was going to say. She watched their ceremony, eyes fixated on the pair, ears pried, hoping to glean something from them she could use to say during her own marriage. But their union was done nearly as quick as it had begun, leaving Fia reeling, and ready to hurl, did this mean it was her turn next? No, much to her relief Hal and his Earthen soon to be Queen took the stage, their wedding too, though it took much longer than the Air and water wedding seemed to go by in a flash to Fia. Her eyes not once leaving her brother, as she realized they seemed to be lost in a world of their own. Perhaps there’s was the only wedding here that day that might have the makings of a long lasting love.

Standing there, Desdan watched everyone slowly doing their own thing in the audience, but as soon as the ceremonies began the whispers ceased. It was a rather beautiful thing to witness, every kingdom filled with all sorts of different people gathered under one area to view the holy matrimony of these royals. It was an interesting concept and thoughts began brewing, wondering if something was going to happen to cause strife between the nations and their long enemies. Nothing happened except the roar of happiness from the crowd once everything began. First was Princess Imogen and Prince Orinda. It was interesting seeing Imogen after a short time had passed; she always managed to hold herself to a higher level of stature and beauty. It was nice to see that she was well, however, given recent events, he would certainly need to discuss with her at some point about everything that has happened lately. Her being married to the enemy was one of his concerns of course, however, the prince seemed to be a gentleman from his appearance and what he has heard... what the hell did he just hear? The man was comparing her an insect and was openly saying that they had an antidote for her blindness when she was poisoned and was openly discussing her blindness in front of all the kingdoms. Was their prince daft or did they just fail to teach him anything that sunk into that thick skull? If this was a representation of how their eldest son was, Desdan had even more reason to be concerned for Imogen, Marvelle and Aurelia... Oh gods, Aurelia...

Next was his sister, dressed in traditional Marisian gown, being married to Prince Zephyr from the air kingdom. There wasn't much information he had on the prince aside from the fact that he seemed to be a family oriented man. If that was true then there shouldn't be any worry for their relationship. Now it was just time to see if he too would screw up his words like his ally did. The reaction from the people in the crowd made it seem rather promising and actually better than he could have wished for. Even though she wasn't marrying a technical enemy of their nation, they weren't on good terms by association. If anything happened to Aurelia, as well as Imogen, he would do anything to make sure she was safe and taken care of. To see his sister in this state was troublesome. She didn't like the idea of him being arranged for marriage, yet he wasn't keen on the idea for her either. Her stress radiated toward him, knowing when she wasn't comfortable. To see her walking off of center stage with her new husband made him relieved, yet even tenser.

As Ezra stood in the male win of the ceremony hall waiting for his own wedding, he clamped a hand on Desdan's shoulder. "It's almost time mate." He said to his old friend. "But look at it this way, at least your wife is hot. You know I'd be happy to try her out for you, you know, make sure she's not as much of a whore as the rumors say."

Before he could watch Marvelle and Allard's ceremony, he felt a hand grip his shoulder. Turning around to see his friend Ezra brought a small grin to his face. "Ah, Ezra, good to see that you made it for this occasion. Surely you would be doing anything to speed this along." He told the man with a chuckle, giving him a raise of his eyebrow playfully. What came next from the man's mouth was surprising. "Well, I wouldn't quite say that she is 'hot'. If anything she is a trickster..." He said, making sure they were alone as he looked over toward the wedding that was going on and hearing some of the vows that were being said. "I do not recall hearing any of these rumors you speak of, however, this would be an interesting way of getting back at her..." Contemplating this little scheme, he eyeballed his friend, giving the slightest of devilish smiles. . "Best of luck, my friend. See if she is faithful to her husband... However, do not get caught or let this little charade come back to me. Our little secret..." Turning around he smirked, making sure he wasn't noticed before he was being ushered forward to meet his soon to be wife.

Ezra chuckled to himself, Desdan had given him the go ahead, and so as long as he wasn't stepping on his toes, he would be more than happy to see exactly how the fire princess really was, not to mention pissing off that Fire Prince Allard was just topping on the cake. "Don't worry friend, everything I do, I do of my own accord. But if she has tricks as you say, then I will be sure to give her a few of my own. There's yet been a woman to turn me down...aside from your sister. Good luck mate." He clapped his hand on the males shoulder once more sending him off to meet his fiery bride.

It was now time for her own wedding and she had yet to even come up with a few reasonable lines. She supposed she would have to just wing it, though she feared what word vomit would end up coming from her lips. She took a step forward but stopped mid stride, her eyes bolted straight toward the door. She could run now, couldn't she? Leave and never look back. Though she supposed that wasn't the best of ideas. Orinda and Hal could still be waiting outside that door and could easily put a stop to her, and even if they didn't, the threat from the ancients was an ever-present thought in the back of her mind. With a deep breath she forced herself to take another step, and another, moving past her door of escape and moved down to the center area where her soon to be husband awaited. "It’s nice to finally meet you." She whispered once he was in earshot, trying to hide the grin that was curling the corner of her lips. "I was starting to think you were avoiding me, Dessie." She gave him a small curtsy.

Walking forward only made his mind race faster than before. Before Desdan was his future. There wasn't anything to do now, no way of going back and changing this. Thoughts of his loved ones came bubbling back up to the surface. His father, his mother, the promise he made to her, his people and his sister. All of this was now on his shoulders and nothing could make it any easier. Nothing in his teachings could train him to prepare for this moment, a wedding with an enemy. Each ounce of his motivation came from his loved ones and devotion to Marisia, this was needed. Standing eye to eye with the temptress from before that toyed with his mind made him want to scoff and rip into her right now. Instead, he would maintain his composure and simply watch her as she curtsied to him. Giving the same respect, Desdan smiled a fake, but convincing smile toward her, offering a small bow to his future wife. "Oh no, why would I possibly do that?" He replied with a whisper. As soon as the two were at the center of the stage, each kingdom's holy man came forward to join them in matrimony.

As the two priests came forward, the Marisian high priestess came forward in robes of white and blue linen. "Today is the day that we see the holy bond between Prince Desdan Vas Marisia and Princess Fia Rose Magnus." The woman began, allowing the fire priest time to speak. "It is a day that will be etched on the minds of all Incendian and Marisians everywhere, the day when our two societies come together to blend as one." The Incendian Priest piped up, his voice bellowing across the hall. "Beneath the heaven's gaze that cradles Armara, the moon goddess, we are given strength and hope for prosperity and happiness between the two before me. Like the goddess and her love, Aegae, the god of the seas and water, may their dedication to one another be unfaltering, regardless of the distances between them, or their differences." The priestess continued warmly as her soft words spread through the crowd, allowing the other priest to say his words. "And may Eshban bless this holy union, and let the fires of Pyrandon burn with the blazing glory of their love." The Fire priest finished off motioning for the two to bring their hands together in the center. Reluctantly Fia agreed, the entire time both priests spoke she had to keep herself from rolling her eyes at their sappy words that she certainly didn't care for.

Bowing his head to the priestess and handing the woman the weave, Desdan reached forward and took Fia's right hand in his as if they were shaking hands. At which point Fia quickly jerked her hand away surprised at a sudden touch she wasn't used to. It took her a moment to realize that this was part of the ceremony and reluctantly placed her hand back in his. "This weave was made by me, representing the differences in life and the changes we go through," Desdan spoke up to his soon to be wife and to the people in the crowd. "Though it might seem like separate pieces, they come together to make one finished piece. Just as we are all here today, this weave represents us all. Each of us with different attributes and talents, beliefs and cultures, we have come together to make ourselves, and each other, stronger and united to take back what is our world above us," He spoke in a strong voice, wanting to emphasize the unity each kingdom required. "Princess Fia, I had the pleasure of talking with one of the nobles from your kingdom today in the marketplace. She gifted me this obsidian pin that connects the end of this weave together, to bestow to you in honor of your culture." He told her, as the priestess began wrapping the weave around their joined hands, pinning the ends together with the obsidian trinket. "That woman that I met today made something painfully clear to me, I do not know all there is to your culture. Regardless, the discussion was eye opening that I have much to learn." He told her, feeling his hand in hers disturbed him, because the woman he was thanking today was the twisted individual before him, a liar.

This entire ordeal made him sick, yet it wasn't obvious on the surface or any energy he was sending off, just something walled up inside as usual. "Princess, regardless of what anyone has to say about you or may think of you, I will be there to protect you," He said, his deep voice echoing throughout the chamber. "As the pairs before us had said, I too shall be faithful to you and treat you with the respect and dignity you deserve. This respect isn't because of your position, it is because of a promise I have made to family and my people, which makes me wish to extend this respect to you and your people. From this moment forward, our people are one and I will defend our people and you with my dying breath."

Fia waited to speak till Desdan was done with his speech, her insides crawling with hate and disgust. She didn't like the feel of her hand in his, nor of the fabric binding them together. They were like shackles to her, handcuffs that would forever bind her to a life she did not want. She had to remind herself a few times to keep on breathing, for the more he spoke the longer she held her breath to keep from screaming at the top of her lungs. Once he was finally finished there was a short pause as she gathered herself, taking in small shallow breaths to calm herself down. She just needed to say something nice in return, and very shortly this whole sordid affair would be over. Though Fia was not known for saying nice things, which made this much harder than she thought it would be. "My lord, I am honored that you are so willing to forgive any transgressions I may have done to you, and are so willing to accept me for who I am. I'll remember this in the future." The last sentence she said quietly her voice a whisper, she would use this against him if she had to. "Likewise, I pledge to do my best to be the wife you deserve and the Queen your people deserve. I know it will not be an easy task and I in no way expect to fill or replace the former Queen, but with your help I know we can rebuild our nation, and create a future filled with peace." She had to stop and take a deep breath, if she spoke anymore she was sure she was going to say something very Fia-like and destroy everything. "Though it's not for you that I pledge this vow, it’s for the sake of my brothers that I stand before you now." She said in a whisper just for him, after all he admitted that he was here because of some promise he made and not for her. She figured she might as well make that clear to him as well.

The Incendian Priest taking notice that they were done exchanging their vows stepped forward once more, this time to address the crowd. "If anyone here has any cause to object to this union, stand now and say your piece or forever stay in silence." An uncomfortable silence fell over everyone, Fia's fingers, clutching Desdan's hand began to dig into his skin, as she hoped and prayed to Eshban that someone would stand and say something. Hell she was half tempted to run forward and object herself, and it took all her will power to keep herself rooted to her spot right next to her husband, and her lips firmly shut in a grimace. The silence seemed to drag on for an eternity, and not a single soul objected to their union.

Desdan watched over the sea of people until he turned his head to look at Fia, feeling her nails digging into his flesh. Fighting back a grimace himself, he maintained as much composure as he could, returning his attention toward the crowd. He knew that there were people that objected to this. There were many people that hated the concept of this on all sides of the table, however, they kept it pent up and sealed, probably due to the guards around them scattered throughout the masses. "At this time, seeing as there aren't any objections, we now crown you, King and Queen of Marisia." The high priestess said as the two priests walked in front of them. Two people brought out crowns, representing both kingdoms. Desdan bowed his head as the Incendian priest bestowed a heavily forged crown upon his head that bore the Magnus insignia on the front of it. For some god forsaken reason their people were certainly heavy into the design of blades. First the trinket, now the crown.

If it wasn't bad enough that their hands were bound together, things were about to get much worse for the fire princess. After no objections were made crowns were brought out, and a very un-Incendian one was placed upon her head. Her first instinct was to jerk away as Water Priestess tried to place it upon her head she weaved one way then the other.

Looking over toward his wife, his eyebrow raised slightly as she was weaving about like a mad woman. "My lady, I believe the priestess would like to place the crown on your head... Do try to stay still..."

Fia glared at her husband, half wanting to tell him to go put his crown some place where it wouldn't fit, but she knew she had to wear the stupid thing. It was probably his doing forcing her to wear a water crown while he got the Incendian one. She bowed her head, allowing the priestess to place the white and silver crown, which looked like frozen branches on her head. But just to pay her husband back she dug her fingers even deeper into his skin. "I'm sorry my lord. I must have just been a little nervous. Please forgive me." She said through gritted teeth.

After the crowns were placed, the high priestess unwrapped the weave and folded it, pinning the trinket back to seal it and handing it to Fia. As soon as that was done, both priests bowed to the couple and walked back to where they were. Watching the surroundings he noticed that their hands were finally free. As if robotically, Desdan offered his arm for Fia to place her arm around his. She just needed to play along until they were out of the public eye, then she could throw her tantrums all she wished. About to finish it off, Desdan looked out toward the sea of people. "People of Incendia, Marisia, Caelum and Terralora, today is a day that will be remembered," He began, looking out toward each respective group before continuing. "The storm above us has left all of our kingdoms as mere shadows of what we once were, but we will become strong once again. What we are accomplishing right now with exploration and expansion is amazing. Everything that has happened up to this point is history and we are given a chance to make this a better future for all of our people," Taking a breath before finishing off his speech.

"However, we cannot do it as warring factions; we cannot do this without compromise and agreement. We will manage to take back what is ours and protect one another, regardless of your sovereign nation; we are all each other has. Yet with this pact, we can spark something new. With leaders such as King Damian, King Orinda, Queen Marvelle and I, we can shape this into something we all can be proud of. Let us make that darkness above us quake in fear, together." He said, finishing strongly as he smiled, looking toward Orinda and Damian. Desdan nodded his head toward both of them, showing that he was dreaming of a positive future for this rag tag assortment of people. Looking over toward his Queen, he realized that no matter how many beautiful words he could weave together, the creature he was with was certainly going to make his life a living hell.

Relief. That was the only word that could describe it when the weave was untied from their hands and given to her. 'Free at frickin last.' She thought to herself, but that crown atop her head was keeping her glued to reality and the fact that no matter how far she ran now, she would never be free, and it was all HIS fault. Sure the Ancients had a hand in it but right now they weren't around for her to unleash her fury on. Unfortunately for Desdan, he would take the brunt of her wrath. Just a few more moments, she told herself. A few more agonizing moments and they would be away from the watching eyes of the people. She forced a fake smile on her face taking his extended arm, and looking out into the sea of people as Desdan gave his immaculate speech. Well there was no way she could top that. Would it be bad if she just said 'what he said.' Probably, she sighed taking in a breath as she tried to figure out something she was supposed to say. "My husband," she paused looking over to Desdan, pretending to give him a fond smile, "is right. Our kingdoms will only suffer if we try to mend things separated, The only way for all our nations to prosper is to do it together, and today we honor that by agreeing to these...weddings. I look forward to a bright future where we are all joined as one. Now let's hurry up with the last wedding, so we can get our party on!" There was a roar of laughter from the crowd, mostly of Incendains, as Fia's grip on Desdan’s arm tightened and she tugged him with her towards the doors, ready to flee from the stage.

Once they were off the stage and away from the crowd inside Fia took in a breath of fresh air, or as fresh of air as one could take underground. For a moment she forgot that she wasn't alone and that she wasn't still clutching Desdan's arm. But movement on his part made her realize he was still with her. She quickly removed herself from him, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at her new found husband. How she wanted to set his clothes on fire, and watch as he screamed in pain. Though he was from the water kingdom so she had no doubt setting him ablaze wouldn't do much but get him drenched and pissed. "Well that was a lovely ceremony; tell me Dessie, how long did it take you to realize who I was?"

As soon as Fia finished her words, Desdan wished to roll his eyes at her. This was his wife... Smiling nevertheless, he walked out with her through the doors and watched her catch her breath. Raising an eyebrow at her, he chuckled and shook his head, looking at her until she removed her arm from his. "Indeed, it really was a beautiful ceremony. However, my favorite part was where you finished it by saying, 'Now let's hurry up with the last wedding, so we can get our party on'," He smirked and rolled his eyes toward her. "If you kept your arm there any longer you would have led me to believe that you almost enjoyed it resting there." He said sarcastically, hoping to get a rise out of her. "Well, if you want honesty, it took me until I saw you kiss your brother on the cheek to deduce that you were the princess."

Was he flirting with her, or trying to get a rise out of her? Fia wasn't certain; she scowled at him, but shrugged her shoulders trying to play nonchalant. "Maybe I did want to hold your arm a little longer. After all we are married now." She went to grab his arm again as if to proclaim she had no problem with it. "And here I thought my reputation proceeded me. It’s not every day that I'm not immediately recognized, and by my own husband none the less. I suppose I will have to throw myself off a few more cliffs, just to burn my face into your mind, care to join me? Or are you afraid of such a thing?"

Laughing as she tried to grab his arm, he remained un-phased, seeing what she was going to do. "Well, I am sorry that I couldn't differentiate you from any other brunette that is walking around here this god forsaken cavern." He told her quite honestly, knowing very well that she was a vibrant red head from what he was told, but wanting to mess with her a little bit more. "Very well, let's go. In fact, I will throw you off of it myself." He told her, actually slightly amused by how ridiculous this woman was. For what seemed like a moment, he actually didn't mind joking around with someone. That was until he remembered the woman he was joking with and where she came from, as well as what she thought of him. Shaking that humor quickly, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "However, we have the banquet that you were so excited about to attend soon. I don't believe it would be wise to go cliff jumping."

"B-brunette?! What in Pyradon are you talking about?!" Fia had to keep herself from yelling as she pulled out her obsidian clip from earlier and checked her reflection in its reflective surface. "What, are you color blind or something?!" It took her second to cool her heels as she was seriously tempted to set him ablaze now, though the moment he said they could go cliff diving she instantly perked up, surprised that he was so willing to go with her, and to push her off even? How grand! She took ahold of his arm once more ready to tug him along and about to tell him of a perfect spot she'd jumped from that morning. At least until he started talking about the banquet and using that as an excuse as to why they couldn't go. The disappointment was evident on her face. She didn't even glare at him, she looked at him like he'd just dangled some shiny toy in front of her and the moment she went to reach for it he yanked it from her grasp. "I-I don’t care about the party...I just wanted to get off that stage...but I see My Lord. You're just afraid, and don't care to admit it. It's even more cowardice to use excuses than it is to just own up to the fact that you're afraid."

Listening to his wife and seeing her reaction only made him happier as he shook his head. Once she mentioned his colorblindness, his face grew stern as he crossed his arms, looking at her. "Well, yes, I am colorblind. Surely your people would have informed you of that." He said, displeased that his disability was being brought up like this, with a raving woman in front of him. Whatever fun he was having seemed to evaporate just as quick as it arrived, a flash in the pan. Once she wrapped her arm around his he stayed still and sighed, closing his eyes, only to see her face looking back at him with what seemed to be disappointment. Well, at least there was that as a nice taste of payback. "Yes, I figured you wanted off that stage and away from me, yet here you are, still wishing to discuss with me," He began. "However, you told everyone in the four kingdoms that you were to attend it. Meaning, they will be expecting you, regardless of your reasoning of saying it." He told her, not really wishing to explain why she had to honor commitments. First assumptions were correct, she was just a child and he shouldn't have humored her in the least, yet some part of him wanted to... "To refrain from getting into an argument of who is right or wrong, I will let you go jump off a cliff or do as you wish. I am not afraid to join you, in fact, I have stories that tell quite the opposite. Yet, right now I have nothing to prove because you won't believe me in the first place." He told her, actually letting himself down. Surely it was the energy of speaking to a large crowd, that always made him cheerful and giddy... That had to be it, but the moment was gone, he had to understand who he was conversing with and what was happening.

Awkward. That was how she felt the moment he confirmed he was colorblind. "Well no, no one told me..." She muttered feeling slightly foolish for saying something so brash to him. Should she apologize? This was probably the moment where decorum dictated she should, and yet she really didn't want to start being nice to him. Still it was pretty crappy of her to throw out his issues like that even if she didn't realize it. "I apologize." She finally said bowing her head a little. "You're right my lord. I made a promise and I should keep it. Though I am disappointed. Somehow I thought you'd be more fun than this. My mistake. Now I assume my things have already been moved to your quarters. If I'm going to attend this party I need to change into something more suited for the banquet. And as much as I know you'd rather not be in my presence, I don't know my way around the Marisian compound. Would you be so kind as to escort me to our chambers?"

It was obvious no one told her, her expression said it all before she opened her mouth, yet, he felt bad that no one told her about it. "It is fine; you weren't aware of it and shouldn't be held accountable for someone else failing to inform you." He said at first, not sure how to continue the conversation. Before he could interject, she continued it a different direction. She not only apologized but also accepted that he was right... Who was this woman? Perhaps this pairing was better than he imagined, it seemed that they both were bipolar in their actions of being happy one moment then serious the next. One thing that weighed on his mind was the concept that he did actually enjoy the banter with her earlier, until she kissed him. The talk that they had just now was quite enjoyable, for one single moment he noticed a smile on her face and some shred of happiness. He began feeling bad for stripping that away, even if for a second. "Well, I have a proposition for you," He mentioned, looking at her seriously. "If you go to this banquet with me, I will join you for your cliff jumping afterward or whenever you wish." He told her, wanting to see her reaction to this offer. It was the least he could do after teasing her with the idea of it. "As to your request, I will show you where it is. As for sharing said chamber, I will not force you to be in the same room as me tonight. I won't be getting much rest anyway, so it is fine with me that you may take the bed to yourself or do with it as you wish. We will figure the following nights out between the two of us later." He told her, offering his arm out for her. "Regardless if you like holding onto my arm or not, I would suggest that you do. I wouldn't expect anyone to dare threaten you as we walk through the Marisian district, however, I did promise to protect you on the off chance."

Fia listened to him quietly, her eyebrows shooting up as he mentioned a proposition. Those could always be interesting, though it seemed he wasn't as good at it as her brothers were. Or at least he didn't know her well enough yet to cover all his bases. All she had to do was agree to go to the banquet, where as her brothers would have ensured that she not only went but promised to be on her best behavior before she got any sort of reward. She smirked. "Fine My Liege, I will go with you." She clapped her hands together, like a happy child easily amused and satisfied that she would be able to go on an adventure. And even though Desdan had promised her that he'd throw her off said cliff she had it in mind already that she'd be the one shoving him off of any protruding ledges. When the conversation turned away from cliff diving escapades and into how they were to spend their first night as husband and wife, her eyes widened and she took a step back from him, not really wanting to have such a conversation ever, though she knew it was probably one they should have sooner than later. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I doubt it would look well if either of us slept in separate rooms. Now I personally don't care what anyone has to say or think of me, but you being a new king and all...I would think it would be of utmost importance to keep up appearances. We'll trade off taking the bed, and the other gets the floor." She stated with a matter-of-fact tone, taking his extended arm once more as they began to walk towards the Marisian quarters. "Though I will tell you this Dessie, I have never needed anyone's protection before, and I don't need it now. If someone were to attack us, you worry about yourself, and I'll worry about me."

Seeing her expression, he fought back a small grin from coming onto his face. "Thank you, My Lady." He told her, glad to see that she was cheerful once more. This entire situation seemed far too weird. Why would he give a damn about what she thought or felt? Perhaps it was anything he could do to make sure peace was brought to the land like he wanted. It meant he had to be civil toward her. Now, depending on this game of hers, he would have to see whether or not she was going to remain civil toward him or not. Now, seeing her current reaction dumbfounded him even more, she was worried about his appearances as a king? Certainly this was a side of Fia no one else had seen. Or surely she was lying to him... One way or another, he agreed with her argument. "Very well, that seems reasonable. You may have the bed tonight." He told her, accepting the terms. When she wrapped her arm into his, he heard what was said next. "What happened to your previous statement? It is the utmost importance to keep up appearances, no? I made a promise as well in front of all of those people. I should very well keep it." He told her, smirking toward her with a chuckle. As the two made their way through the chamber and out to the public, it seemed almost barren. Everyone was out to view the final wedding. Fortunately that meant that nothing was going to happen. Sure enough, nothing occurred that required him to protect her, but, keeping up appearances anyway was important. Once the two were at the chamber he opened the door to unveil the room. It was left in perfect order from before. "Here we are, acquaint yourself with the room, if you need anything else there are servants that will be more than willing to help you. I will meet you at the banquet hall." He told her, opening the door, standing in the frame before leaving, just in case she said something.

"I can still protect myself." She muttered but said nothing more, realizing that Desdan was as stubborn and pig-headed as she herself was. There was no use in arguing it. Instead she continued on with him till they reached their now joint chambers and mentioned he would be leaving. Finally a moment of peace, that’s what she needed. "Yes, I think I will take a few moments to myself then I will meet you at the banquet." She said shooing him out the door.

Walking out into the hallway, Desdan closed the door behind him and made his way toward the banquet hall to await everyone else.




HiddenConfines

[Tanrria]

✣ Damian ✣ Caelum ✣
The Scarred King of the Air Kingdom

Location: Wedding Hall In the Presence of: Many people, both royals, nobles and commoners

His greeting went virtually unnoticed by the small group of royals outside of his own family.

He hadn't really been expecting much, but at least some form of acknowledgment that he had spoken would've been appropriate. Damian found that to be in particularly poor taste, but he supposed it was their wedding day, they had other things to think about. Not all people were quite as adept at multi-tasking. Allard at least took the time to give Damian a head nod, and Damian inclined his head in return, as if in thanks for the greeting.

Since the other royals didn't really have any intention of coming out of their own worlds, he turned his attention towards his family. Naivara was fidgeting a little as she stood and avoiding his gaze, a clear sign that she had just done something that she felt broke decorum. It had likely been a hug to her brother, but once she saw Damian coming she wrenched herself away to be the proper princess he had raised her to be. It was a comfort to him that at least she thought of these things. Unlike a certain princess he saw that morning.

His wife greeted him with that hopeful warmth that he'd come to associate with her. Whenever Damian turned his eyes to rest solely on her, she bloomed like a flower under a gardener's care. Damian would indulge his wife when he could; when she was down he tried to give her the attention that she needed, but he was mostly going through the actions. Keeping her happy was a necessary part of keeping his family stable and prosperous. He certainly didn't shy away from this responsibility, but he could tell that whenever they parted, Kira seemed to always be left wanting. She eagerly rested a hand on his offered arm and moved in close, a respectable distance between the two of them as she looked at her children, hesitation lurking in the depths of her eyes. On this day both of her children would be growing up and getting married... They were the light of her life, more than Damian had ever been, so it was no wonder that this day was hard on her.

After a brief moment of silence, Kira straightened her back and began speaking with that strength that he'd come to expect of her. It was a quiet strength, one that came from perseverance rather than sheer power, and Damian respected that in her. She spoke first to their children, and as she continued to speak, she raised her voice so that the royals of the other nation would also hear her good wishes for a better future. She spoke like a true Queen, even if she was still struggling with all that had happened since arriving in Sanctimonia.

Damian watched as his wife's good wishes passed by the other royals like a gentle breeze that didn't attract much attention, and he wasn't terribly surprised that her statement got the same reception as his greeting. However, there was one that had been affected by the breeze, and that was the second Princess of Terralora, Marvelle. Her body language quickly told Damian that she wasn't seeing it as comforting though, she was seeing it at more as something to hate and despise. The Princess's hands balled up into fists, and Damian subtly guided his wife a little so that he would be more between Marvelle and Kira. He'd be able to observe her better this way to see what she did, and he was now braced to move his wife out of the way if need be. Marvelle was silent the entire time, though the internal struggle on her face was quite clear.

That's when a sudden crack resounded in the hall followed by the shriek of his daughter.

Damian snapped his head towards a window that was splintering onto the ground and was only able to back up a few steps with his wife before Naivara wrapped her arms around his torso. Damian's left arm moved to grab at his daughter, but before it even made contact, the limb just dissolved before his eyes and he had to blink for a moment. He didn't have a left arm anymore. Of course he knew this, he knew it would not change, but irritation flickered in his mind at the thought of how limiting only having one arm was. No... He couldn't have thoughts like that, he had to work with what he had.

Narrowing his eyes a little, he turned to look at Marvelle, who looked completely horrified at what she'd just done. No control then? That was almost worse than if she'd broken the window on purpose as an intimidation tactic. Damian straightened despite the two women clinging to him, and simply stared at Marvelle, waiting for an explanation that never actually came. Instead, the girl made a mangled sound, like the beginnings of a child's wail, before she ran away from the scene. Thorny vines grew in her wake, and leftover pieces of the window slipped off of their broken frame to join the rest of its kind on the ground.

Silence reigned for a couple seconds; even the previously oblivious royals finally looked over to realize that something had just happened that remotely pertained to them. The first one to break the silence was Orinda, with a simple "Huh" before going back to talking with his siblings. Allard though had a much different response. He looked crushed and once his senses finally came back he called out after her before starting to run off in that direction. Before he left though, he stopped, turned to the rest of them, and implored them not to let this incident get out. So, it turned to Allard to fix this problem then? ... Damian got the feeling that scenarios like this would probably often happen from now on. Hopefully he wouldn't break under that responsibility.

"I understand the importance of keeping this to ourselves, but I will not allow such a hostile display towards my family to go unnoticed should it happen again." Damian responded, his tone one of warning.

Allard thanked Kira for her speech then, and promptly ran off to begin fixing the problem.

And to think, the day had only just begun.

----------------------------------------------------

Damian sat comfortably in his chair among the remainder of his family. Well, most of it, anyway. His mother was absent because her poor health prevented her from showing up, but his younger brother Aeolus, older sister Nadia, and younger sister Ilyana were sitting nearby with their families, watching the proceedings with varying degrees of genuine emotion. Damian himself was impassive as always, but he did have his arm resting on his wife's on the arm rest between the two of them. Both to help support her while their children got married, and because it helped the public image of their relationship.

The first wedding had been a pretty standard wedding as far as Damian's expectations went: the speeches were fine, the ceremony relatively short, and the crowd thankfully cooperated. Even the bride and groom seemed to be getting along fairly well. It was a wedding full of decorum and respect between the two participants.

The second wedding between Zephyr and Aurelia though, left Damian wanting. He hadn't been expecting his son to not address the public; even if he wasn't the King of Caelum yet, he was still the crown prince, and they people loved to hear from him. Yet, he remained silent as the ceremony ended and the two of them exited the stage. It quite honestly baffled Damian that his son hadn't addressed the public. Hadn't he not expressed the importance of creating a bond between their people and the royalty? What Zephyr had done was inherently distancing towards the people, and Damian had to think up a way that Zephyr would be able to save face with them before the evening was over.

The third wedding... Well, it was a bit more intimate than Damian would've liked. Within the first couple moments, as Allard had stood at the sidelines of the stage, he had locked eyes with Damian's for a brief moment, a pure look of anxiety in his eyes as he stood there. The response that Allard got from Damian was a raise of the eyebrow before the King moved his head a little towards the stage, as if to tell Allard to go ahead and face his fears. The boy recovered himself quickly, stood up straight and headed out onto the stage... where he proceeded to act the most intimate with his young bride out of all three of the weddings. Oh, young love; a blinding force if there ever was one. Other than the fact that the wedding was a bit too intimate for Damian's tastes, it was a fine one. The speeches were a bit more interesting, but the overall wedding didn't take much longer than the first one did. It ended with a flashy gimmick from Allard and the crowd cheering with delight as the young couple headed off the stage.

The fourth wedding also went pretty smoothly, with the exception of one bit where Princess Fia decided to make a fool of herself when one of the priests went to put a crown on her head during the crowning ceremony. She dodged it like she was a child trying to dodge a maid who was just trying to do her job. Damian's opinion that he'd formed of her earlier only further cemented in his mind. The crowning ceremony itself though was a little bit on the unorthodox side. Desdan was crowned with one fashioned in the Magnus Incendian style, while Fia was given a Marisian styled crown. It was a particularly bold move on their part, one that intended to truly show the new unity between the two nations. It was pleasing to see that despite warring for so long, the two nations were willing to give the peace more of a chance. Hopefully this wouldn't just end in more randomly uprooting treaties for little reason. Damian was so tired of that. As he watched the wedding, Desdan acted with tact befitting a prince, and his speeches were actually good instead of just fine. That was certainly promising for whatever dealings they might have in the future. The young couple was soon walking off the stage after a rather informal comment from Fia that left the crowd roaring with laughter and delight but Damian simply sighed softly.

Well, four weddings down, now all that was left was the wedding between Naivara and Ezra.

[Vruez]

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❖ ℓᴏᴄαᴛɪᴏη:thisisahugeassgap❖ ωɪᴛʜ:thisisahugeassgap❖ тʜεᴍε:

“Promise me, Zeph, you would visit me every week, “ Ella whispered, her voice muffled against her brother’s embrace, quiet and small like a child. “Or I shall be so unhappy. Promise me you would bring me flowers from the gardens like before…”

Only Ella knew that was not possible anymore. No flower grew within the walls where there was no sun to shine, and where the air was trapped and musty like the salty winds of a sea. Ella liked the fresh air of the mountains, the tufts of clouds that flew past her fingers, and the loud breeze that sounded like a woman’s call when it passed through a forest. These were sights and smells of Caelum that were permanent; nothing could ever take them away from her – not even the storm.

The same musty air was suddenly filled with the deep, gentle smell of what was unmistakably lavender, and Ella looked up, startled, only to peek over her brother’s shoulder, her arms still clinging tightly to him. It was a Terralorian princess, Ella thought with a little start, with a flower in her hand. Even from the distance she could see the petals soft and young, bathed in dew, and the scent took her back so many months back in the past, when her feet still stepped over the marble archways of home.

Eteri Ilmarinen was a paradise high up above the clouds where the seasons were the slaves of man. There were the ancient trees and young bracken, fields of rhododendrons that rose high above your head and stood tall like a blood red battalion, the blooming azaleas and the petite, graceful lilies, the willowy lilacs and the sprawling rose garden right outside of Ella’s window. During spring, the trees were covered in a haze of scents and colors, without a single sprig of leaf visible through the great cloud of flowers.

There were too many smells and scents in the palace that some said it made them drunk, but Ella would have no other form of intoxication. If you passed by a quiet shadowy hallway in the evening, you might just be surprised by the sudden looming scent of lilacs in a tall porcelain vase beneath the window, and when you leaned over to the see the view down the sloping vales, it seemed as if the air was moist with all sorts of scents, and if you picked up a fallen petal and crushed it in your palm, there you had it, right in the hollow of your hand, a thousand different scents mingling in the air, lingering and heavy.

Rose was the only flower that looked prettier in a watered vase than in full bloom outside. There was something wild and unkempt about a rose in full bloom, like a woman with untidy hair. But placed in vases against the cold, gray walls, they became subtle and mysterious, and graced their surroundings with a natural glow.

Ella liked the white rose the best. There was something sweet and sad and wistful about a white rose, newly bloomed, a little lost among a sea of colors. It looked out of place, almost, but not quite.

Just like herself.

The strong lavender scent had almost faded in the air now. Ella could still smell bits of it on herself, and some of it from her brother’s armor. Had it been the Terralorian princess who had bloomed the flower? Oh, what wouldn’t Ella give to have a similar gift? She loved her own gift, the ability to make rain upon young saplings so they grew tall and lush and green, but she couldn’t make flowers out of a whim, or make little buds blossom with a touch. A part of her was too curious to look, to watch a flower freshly bathed in dew, to take in the scent, but Ella closed her eyes, firmly turning away. It was the Terralorians who were behind her father’s disappearance, it was the Terralorians who had given her mother night after sleepless night, and sent her brother away to war in a vain effort to hold the country together. Nothing in the world could ever make her forgive them…

But her husband was Terralorian too, a small voice inside her said. Could she love him? Could he love her back…? But he was a half-royal, just like herself, wasn’t he? The subject of her husband was like a little spring of sympathy in her heart, and a lot of sweet and hopeful uncertainty. She’d seen him only once, taken by curiosity, when she’d run out and leaned over the balconies of the Keep, looking out across the shadowy little caverns where little shapes of men went about their work. He was a dark haired young man surrounded by lovely women, with that boisterous laugh and a smile full of sunshine she’d immediately liked. But it was the dark eyes that brought up a fear from deep within her heart, for they were cold and intriguing and intimidating at the same time. They’d reminded her of a snake within the brush, and she’d run off to her brother, her heart thudding against her chest with a sort of anticipation she had not quite understood.

And if he doesn’t love her back, what then? Ella couldn’t think anymore. She clutched at her dress and wanted to run into her cozy little room so she could throw herself upon the bed and cry with her face buried in her pillow. It would not be graceful at all if they were to see her with the tell-tale pink across her nose and eyes on her own wedding. No, Ella would rather die of embarrassment.

And then her father appeared from around a turn, and Ella flushed scarlet, wringing herself away from her brother. A part of her wanted to linger by him, to feel her hand in his, to say the last goodbyes, and to see him smile as he stepped towards the stage from her side, but she gave him her sweetest smile when he winked at her and turned to leave. For a moment, she wondered if she would ever have this moment again – a time when they were both children waiting to grow up, unmarried and without the weight of responsibilities, of frivolous laughs and uncertain tears, but he had grown up the moment their father’s airship had burnt to fragments, and she had been waiting under the shadows of her childhood for things that could only be found in the haze of summer dreams.

“Thank you, mother…” she had replied meekly when her mother came forward. For a moment, Ella wanted to wrap her arms around her mother and sit very close, like the old days, watching her Queen Mother in the midst of running the royal household. But now she wanted nothing more than to turn away when her parents began speaking. She’d heard the words many times in many forms before, but today they plunged into her heart like a knife or a burden, and panic coiled within her like a snake. The words were meant to be inspirational, she knew, but her mind went back again and again to the invisible blade that hung above her head, ready to fall if she failed… or a sky dark with the shadow of Caelus, waiting to pounce…

The world around her boomed with invisible thunder, and Ella recoiled, screaming and withdrawing into her father’s arms. When she looked up again, her ears filled with echoes, it seemed as if a storm had passed, leaving a trail of broken glass and thorny vines that erupted out of the earth… Ella watched, stunned, as the Terralorian princess rushed out of the room, in all but tears. For a moment, Ella found herself following the receding figure, her heart beating as she couldn’t help but wonder how she wished to run away from it all herself - from the uncertainty of it all, from having a lifetime of bearing with your enemies, struggling to bury the hatred that welled in your heart every moment of the day…

When Ella went to stand by the wings, her eyes were on her brother. Zephyr stood among the other princes, looking glorious, and she wondered if he was as calm and composed as he seemed. No, he would not have to leave his home and his people and everything he loved for a marriage, nor was he going have to sleep with the enemy…

A part of her ached lightly, for she knew that he would never truly understand how great it was a loss for her.

And then the weddings began, suddenly, and far too quick than Ella would have liked. She turned away for the first, not wishing to look with hateful eyes upon a wedding of her greatest enemy and the man whose father had ordered the execution of young Ella Camden’s family in another generation. And when it came to Zephyr’s turn to wed, Ella watched, her heart beating, conscious of every little rhythm and every word spoken, cringing when it seemed Zeph would make a mistake. And as sure as the wind, Zeph had forgotten the speech to the people. Ella tried to meet his eyes, to make hand gestures and to point at the crowd, but it was useless – her brother was too taken with his bride. The thought brought a small smile to her lips, and a little stab of jealousy – he would not be hers alone anymore. Perhaps she should be relieved that she was Marisian, and not Incendian or Terralorian…

It was the third wedding that surprised and astonished her at the same time. There she was, the Terralorian princess who had rushed away from her wedding, and yet perfectly happy and smiling. Was it an act? Was she supposed to feel equally happy as well…? She was marrying the Incendian prince, the same young prince she had seen with her father countless times, and had always felt lonely and small and insignificant, for he seemed far more comfortable with her own father than she could ever hope to be. And when he reached and kissed his bride, Ella turned scarlet. Was it a Terralorian custom she would have to follow too…?

Then came the fourth wedding, and Ella couldn’t help a giggle when the young Incendian bride seemed to want to wiggle out of her own crown, only to realize that she was the last bride left in the entire wing.

It was her turn to marry.




Eternally Gone

blackrose37