[ P ] White Veil, White Lace [Wedding]

His paws pressed into a bed of rose petals, their floral perfume gently sweetening the air against the smoke. Before him, thin pieces of kindling had been arranged in a pyramid shape within a charcoal-stained, gold goblet. It sat before him, cool to the touch for now. Belfast, by contrast, felt as if he was burning up.

The man's fur had been slicked back and groomed by two wolves. While no flowers adorned him, the stylists had seen fit to condition his fur with oils. Now, he smelled of a rich musk that was pierced only by the sharp notes of peppermint. Having seen himself in a scrap of mirror, Belfast's first reaction had been to hold his breath lest he knock a tuft of fur out of place.

He hadn't seen Xandria since the evening before as, apparently, Tiamat custom demanded that the bride and groom be separate before they met at the altar. It was to ensure that the fire of their love burned just as bright even when they had been apart—or something to that effect. To be perfectly honest, he had accepted that this ritual was a part of Xandria's world and not his. Or, if they were being perfectly honest, it was Nassar's world and the pair were acting through the roles. But that didn't make him love it any less. If it would make Xandria happy—and he knew that it did—then he would overcome any obstaacle. Even if that meant speaking his vows before an audience of Xandria's friends and many family members.

...

Waiting up at the front of the steps near the most illustrious fountain in the square made his pulse quicken. His paws felt clammy and he didn't know where to look. His gaze kept sneaking to Nassar then fleeing away whenever she returned it with those piercing, smoldering ambers. To say that she was thrilled was to lie, but he knew she would accept him under the condition that he made Xandria happy. At least he had been able to wholeheartedly promise her that he would give his life to such worthwhile pursuit.

The rest had happened quite quickly. Nassar had arranged an allegedly modest affair at Xandria's behest. It stell felt quite grand to him. Flowers had been picked and arranged all around the fountain. The expectant faces of Xandria's siblings looked up at him, eagerly awaiting the bride. To the side, a pyromancer stood with two stunning amaryllis flowers in his jaws.

...

At last, a rhythmic thumping began, an intricate drum beat that announced the approach of the bride. Belfast's heart threatened to stop as it joined the stocatto rhythm of the drummers. His gaze left its aimless wandering and settled on the entrance to the square.

When Xandria at last crested the steps, Belfast felt tears spring to his eyes.

Injuries or no, she was beautiful and just as breathtaking as the day he had first stomped up to her door demanding that Kohl come outside. Rather than any servant or maid, Xandria had shoved the door open and demanded that he leave. Still bullheaded and stubborn, Belfast had refused. She had pinned him down just as easily as if he'd been a pesky, autumn leaf—and he'd called her fat because of it. Yet somehow she had found the grace to take pity on him. What started as taunting one another became her leaving him bits of food. From those morsels, she had started sneaking him in and hiding him, drawing him into her world.

For years, he had thought that he had been a lowly wretch that she had taken pity on.

Little did he know that the world she had shown him had been special, one meant just for him and her. It was not for her mother or her siblings, not for her friends or fellow soldiers. Her kindness had been born of love, not pity.

...

"You look beautiful," Belfast whispered when Xandria joined him at the tallest step in front of the audience of their loved ones. He leaned forward to nudge her but stopped when Nassar lowered her head enough for her presence to intercept him. Not now, was the quiet but forceful redirection.

"We have gathered here to join these two flames so that they can burn brighter and hotter together," announced the matriarch, pride in her eyes. If Belfast wasn't mistaken, there were tears in the matriarch's gaze too. Tears of pride, of love, and of sentimentality as she began the process of leading the ceremony that would guide her daughter's first true steps away from home.

Then Nassar stepped back and the pyromancer approached. He handed an amaryllis to both Belfast and Xandria before bowing his head. Moments later, the kindling in the chalice blazed with light. The heat bathed his chest and muzzle from the proximity.

Nassar then dipped her head, indicating that they could now say their vows.

Knowing that he was first, Belfast stared into Xandria's eyes instead. He found security only there.

"I thought... for so long about what to say, about how to apologize to you, about how to thank you. It wasn't until recently that I realized just how long I have been searching for the answer to those questions. For years, I searched in isolation, thinking that what you needed was protection from me and my burdens because I was too misguided to know that you could carry them." The words spilled from his lips, his voice genuine and earnest. "In reality, all I ever needed to give you was what you showed me as children: unconditional, unwavering love. You are so incredibly strong and you are every bit the indomitable woman that your father raised you to be." More tears wet his eyes until they were glassy pools staring back at Xandria. "Your love saved my life more times than I can count, and so I have no reservations when I say that I give my life to you—willingly and happily." He paused to stuck in a steadying breath.

"I love you, I have loved you, and I will continue to love you, Xandria Tiamat."

With that, he gently set the flower in the goblet. It blazed brightly, falling to ash immediately.

Then it was Xandria's turn and it was all he could do to stand still, to stare into her beautiful eyes and not melt from the overwhelming sensation of love he felt. Love... and luck.

The night prior, he had gone to visit Kohl's grave to thank him, not just for helping to raise him as a boy, but for giving him Xandria. And to let him know that the man wasn't forgotten and that Xandria missed him whether she visited often or not.

...

When both flowers had been burned, the pyromancer covered the chalice. A moment later, when it was revealed, only ash and a thin plume of smoke was left.

It was Xandria's turn to lead and he inclined his head so that she could press her nose to the ash and then dot his brow. He then did the same, adding a kiss to his as he annointed her as his.

"From this moment onward, Xandria's fire is Belfast's. His ash is hers. May they burn together forever more!" Nassar called and the audience cheered.

Belfast stepped forward to embrace his wife in a hug for, at last, they had finally made it here. Here where, he truly believed, they were always meant to be.

code: clae + manip:torriyi

@Xandria will post and then we can open it up to one-shot posts for any family that wishes to remark or spectate on the occasion!!

Since returning home to announce her engagement her mother had been in good spirits despite her quarrel with Xandria's youngest sisters. At first she had been sceptical about Belfast, her face seemed to ask, Are you sure it's him? and Xandria assured her that he was the one for her. She knew her mother would have chosen someone different for her, most likely a respectable soldier to be her son-in-law. She'd never been interested in army men. Most of them were King Adamh fanboys and she had strong thoughts about their current king. They never would have accepted her, bloodied paws and all, like Belfast did. Her fiancé was and could only be him.

Her days since then had been a whirlwind of preparations and planning. A wedding wasn't quite a battlefield, but her mother took to organising it like a general. Do you like this colour? What about these flowers? Even the tiniest details were important according to her mother. Xandria knew then that her wedding day was in good paws. She wasn't interested in making her wedding become a platform for noble gossip so her mother arranged an intimate affair that was for family. Her mother had insisted that Xandria be sequestered in her quarters away from Belfast on the eve of their wedding day. The young Captain complained of course, but her mother insisted on following tradition.

When the sun rose Xandria barely slept. She was flitting about the Tiamat manse like a nervous bird. The servants had arrived with a host of flowers and oils to adorn her with. Xandria grumbled and fidgeted like a child until her mother took over getting her ready. It reminded her of when she was a girl having her mother groom her unruly fur and dab her brow with the scent of flowers. No matter how many times she squirmed and insisted she could get ready herself there was no running from her mother's tongue.

Finally it was time for the wedding. The steps of Eleanor Square had never seemed as grand as they did today. She ascended them with grace, despite the slight tremble in her knees. Her golden gaze, both eyes finally healed, took in the sight of her husband to be and her mother awaiting her arrival. "You…are very dashing. If anyone tries to steal you away from me I'll fight them," she whispered, a playful smile touching her lips. Her mother began the ceremony and already she was tearing up. "Mom you big softie," she mumbled, affection for the Matriarch in her tone.

The pyromancer handed them the flowers and Xandria took hers carefully. The most anticipated part of the wedding was about to begin. The vows. Multiple times during his loving declarations and words Xandria forgot to breathe. He was so sincere and earnest that she knew she could trust him not to run away from her again. Tears were glittering in her eyes by the time he was finished. "Must be the smoke in my eyes," she sniffed, knowing there was no way he would believe her. "Belfast Moss-DeArc. I've known you all my life. I never imagined I would fall in love with the skinny brat who stole my first kiss. I didn't like you at first .. Then I got to know you. How strong you were, how much you had to endure so young. I didn't want you to be alone. I was probably very bossy and annoying, but you didn't care. You listened to my dreams and you made me believe they were possible," she told him, feeling a little embarrassed to be saying such things in front of her mother and all of their family.

"You know the true me. You didn't judge me or shun me. You've seen me at my worst and you're still here. I love you, my dreamcatcher, my kiss thief, my husband," and with that she set the flower in the goblet and watched the flames dance in her love's eyes. She gave him a stripe of ash over his brow and nuzzled his cheek and as he gave her a kiss.

She returned his embrace, forcing her restless urge to free herself aside to enjoy his warmth. Once they were done she dragged him off to build a fire as a test of their everlasting love and laughed at his dismay when it burned low. When he wasn't looking she snuck in extra wood and loved the joy that lit up his face when their fire grew.

code: clae + manip:torriyi