The day had been long in the making and while Bride and Groom came together in a small clearing, there were only a few to witness the intimate ceremony. Under the ancient, towering canopy of the elvhen forest, sunlight filtered through the turning foliage of the hidden glave within a warded boundary. The ground was carpeted with a thick layer of emerald moss, broken up with patches of colourful flowers while ferns and small shrubs lined the edges.
An archway, formed by intertwining branches of the ancient native trees, stood at the centre, branches adorned with blossoms of every hue. Ivy vines snaked their way over the bark, adding to the wild elegance. Haulean kept the rings, standing beside Nairn at the altar while in a last minute switch, Megara changed her mind on something, pulling Ruth and Dora aside before the beginning.
You’re doing it, she decided, voice hushed but firm. Taking the flowers from Ruth and handing them to Dora. You’re now Flower Girl. Fixing a stray hair back, Meg then hooked her arm through Ruth’s while peering through the gaps in the screen separating her from the short walk to Nairn..
“Um… what are you doing, I’m not… have you got cold feet, seriously? Seriously?
Of course not you idiot! Just. Dora, on you go, we’ll be right behind you. Dumbfounded and speechless, Ruth tried to stammer an excuse. He was the flower girl, he wasn’t… Father material as the bride’s cue in the music began.
You got us this far, makes sense you walk me the rest of it. To him.
“...I hate you both. Gonna ruin my image as an unfeeling bastard... In front of Dora too.”
~sometime later~~
“Introducing for the first time, Mr and Mrs Neirdre!”
Her hand clutched tightly around his, Megara strode out alongside her new husband with the widest smile. Husband, Life-Mate, her heart had almost burst tying the knot of two after a decade of waiting. The party was already in swing, promptly informed when the happy couple were due to arrive and the two’s close friends, their family, and colleagues welcomed them with some hearty cheer and toasting of glasses. There’d come the time for speeches, but the couple stood a moment, lingering on the fringes of the party surrounding the great hearth to steady themselves.
Meg leaned into Nairn, the leaf adornments of her dress crinkling against his fine robe as she whispered to him. Just squeeze my hand a few times if it gets too much. I had Danny set up a quiet room behind the stage so you can escape for a bit. The day belonged to them both, and even she’d need a break from the overwhelming attention in time. Before arriving Meg had reassured him further by tying his new scarf around the bottom half of his face. Her token to him since the first now found itself around the neck of a halla stuffy, too little fabric to reach around the man’s own.
Which direction are we going then my love? Left, right or down the middle towards the buffet? And no it’s not that I’m hungry… I am more thirsty, but one beer and I’ll be unseemly and that’s tacky for a bride before the first dance.
TLDR:
Megara and Nairn Marry in a private ceremony within Arlathan’s forest.
Attendee’s to the Ceremony include: Ruth, Dora, Haulean ONLY
Attendee’s to the Party at the Vhenadahl: Open to all Coterie and invited Arlathan residents.
@Nairn - is next
Megara's Dress - Dress Link
Tagging folks involved:
@Danny or Kellam LOL @Haulean Oruven @Theodora Oridotti and Mina
Though today was a long-time coming, Nairn still found himself extremely anxious. Not because she might leave him at the altar (truth be told, he was the more likely of the two to leave the other at the altar), but because of the vows. Speaking wasn't his strong suit—but he'd wanted to read off his own vows. That wasn't going to happen; at least not at the small, private ceremony or the much larger party waiting afterwards. But he kept the written words in his pocket...
Just in case.
He was expecting Ruth as their flower girl; Megara had been determined the other elf would play the role asked of him. Instead, the dwarven mechanic came down the aisle with flowers first, which made Nairn pause and lean to whisper to his son, if he was aware of that change.
Haulean wasn't aware of such a change.
It never occurred to him that Megara might back out—he was more apt to assume Ruth had backed out instead.
But it'd seem that Ruth had acquired a promotion in the short time before the ceremony, and Nairn flashed the other man a wide, shit-eating grin. He'd have to ask for their friends reaction to that change later.
~Sometime Later~
They'd settled—and he meant it as settled because he'd wanted Doomstar as a last name—on Neirdre. It was the least offensive name they'd come up with.
They lingered on the fringes of their party, and as she leaned into him, he let one hand wander across her hip. Fingers trailing across soft fabric, That all the rooms for? Resting? He buried his face against the top of her head, inhaling her scent for a moment.
As he straightened, he asked, How'd you convince Ruthie to walk you down the aisle? One hand reached to straighten his scarf, an anxious tic. But at least the scarf helped him feel less anxious overall.
All too quickly Megara was asking which way they'd mingle first, and he groaned at her. Could stay right here? He knew that wasn't going to fly, though, and settled his hand into hers. Mmm, guess we gotta dance first, so my wife can have a drink.
A few names had been tabled when the pair had thought on taking a new name for their family. She had to explain, far too thoroughly, how his favourite wasn’t quite the tone she wished to set when beginning potential negotiations with their neighbours.
Meg snickered into his chest as he pulled her close, I didn’t put a big comfy couch in there for no reason, but we can’t go there straight away. It’s rude baby. People had made the effort to celebrate with them, abandoning them completely without showing face was poor hosting.
Her hold loosened as Nairn straightened, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand while he checked his mask out of habit. Well… I didn’t really give him a choice. Best way to make him do something is to surprise him with it last minute. He couldn’t well say ‘no’ to the bride, not right there in the moment. Give him an inch and he’d take a mile, but Meg had long come to understand a little what could put the idiot in his place.
His groaned plea to remain where they were pulled a quiet chuckle and a shake of her head. Nope. They had to show face for a bit before either, or both, disappeared into the crowd or into brief hiding. At the mention of dancing, Meg’s feet began shifting in place with growing excitement. Your wife heartily agrees on that action. Les’go!
While her eyes caught various guests, Meg avoided inviting them to interact just yet, tugging Nairn along towards where some were dancing. She’d wave if and when people caught her eye, but her gaze always returned to the man long waited for, head leaned against his chest as the pair began to slow dance.
Nairn grinned as she snickered, and then denied his request to leave the party without seeing anyone else. He'd expected it, and his grumbling was playful. The man listened as she described how she'd given Ruth no choice, no chance to say no without ruining her wedding day. You're a snake, my love. He teased, trailing his thumb under one of her eyes, as he leaned to whisper in her ear, He deserved to walk you down the aisle. He got us here.
He'd eventually found out Ruth had stuck around until he was sure that Nairn wasn't going to find a reason to leave, that night, so long ago. The man truly was a good friend; especially for how he looked after her in Nairn's absence. It was something he couldn't repay in full.
Megara was eagerly agreeing to a dance, and Nairn let her lead the way. He became quieter, the further into the mass of the celebration, and his gaze rarely left her person. They settled for a slow dance, in the center, and he was thankful the dance floor was currently empty. It made the fact people were watching them less worrisome.
His chin rested on the top of her head, as they danced with only the music and quiet murmur of the party to listen to. Too many nights, he'd dreamed about her — about marrying her — and he'd finally done it. Nairn smiled into her hair, Ma vhenan. I am sorry that I made you wait so long. Quietly spoken, she'd be the only one that heard him.
The ceremony had gone off without a hitch despite Megara’s sudden last minute change. Ruth was forever grateful he’d been able to hide what emotion swelled in his chest when walking her down the aisle to Nairn. The sun lenses masked the tears brimming and once he’d put Meg’s hand in Nairn’s the elf would hastily stand beside Haulean and Dora, muttering under his breath for both of them to utter not a word. He wasn’t able to string a full sentence together until it was over and even then Ruth had deliberately stayed back to numb himself. His body felt off, head itching for a fix with the pressure put on him. The sly little witch had pulled a fast one and Ruth was determined to make her pay for it somehow.
Of course Dora had to interrupt him, only being able to take half a snort of the dust line before hastily brushing the remainder back into the tin. The back of his hand rubbed away what dust remained around his nose, the hit of lyrium not kicking in as usual, but Ruth ignored it. They’d walk to the party, following behind the newlyweds and once there, the elf disappeared to grab a few drinks, tanking one immediately before returning to the dwarf at the edge to watch the couple dance. He hadn’t seen Mina yet, but there was plenty time to track down his invited distraction.
Once again, I was right. he began, offering her a pint. Didn’t need that forge afterall and… I suppose you made a better flower girl than I did. Shrugging his shoulders he’d look over to the two slow dancing with a sigh, pleased that nothing and no-one had come to screw up the ceremony. Everyone thinks she’s so nice, but you were there, she’s a proper conniving little minx when she wants to be. He was jesting, but being put on the spot for such an important role had obviously unsettled Ruth, believing himself to be unworthy of such an honour.
Later, later of course, Theo would tease Meg about making her the flower girl, when she had been there to just be a witness, and back up for if Nairn's heart had failed. Later of course, she would rib on Ruth, knowing what lay under those dark shades of his, the self satisfied little smirk she wore for the moment as much as she'd lead on that she knew -- no, later she would need help herself, for as much as she tried not too, she too had been affected with emotions, and the dwarf did love a wedding. Khol streaked her cheeks from where tears had fallen for the woman she liked to think was becoming a close friend, and her boss, for who could call Nairn a friend when the majority of their interactions had been quiet posturing and deal making. Sometimes she preferred the transactional nature of their relationship, but yearned, always, for what she knew was developing with Megara.
So tears were in order, ones that she tried to blot away with a hankie that would disappear back down behind the busque of her corseted half leather skirt. It was a nicest article of clothing she had, and over the muted green tunic and her boots, she thought it was a fine piece of work for a wedding. Much like the mechanical music box she had put the finishing touches on that morning as their gift, it's song a popular ballad that seemed to be at every tavern always. Sometimes the nicest someone had was the best for any given situation, and as predicted, getting to see Nairn's expression when Megara appeared, arm in arm with Ruth, was everything she had hoped for.
She found herself alone, for a moment, to catch her breath after such an intimate affair, after the small ceremony had concluded -- now there would be people, lots of people to face, and somehow, Theo felt like an imposter there among them. She hadn't known Nairn nor Meg very long, but.. there was suddenly a pint in her hand, and she gave the delivery man a thankful look as she took a long drink off the mug. Well you are right that I am far more lovely than you when it comes to being a flower girl. Remind me later to tease Meg a bit if that sudden change was because I'm the shortest person here or not. A wide grin spread across her face as she went to tuck as stray strand of hair back behind her ear from where it had come free from the intricate braid that crowned her head.
Careful there, Ruth, calling a married woman a minx might bring the wrath of a jealous husband back down on you. Let me be your new minx instead. She leaned over into him a moment, gently nudging him with her shoulder, Besides, look at the dance, don't they look absolutely, Theo paused, her eyes taking in the pair the two cut in their first dance, the deep longing she felt for something like that herself eating at her a moment. Lost in one another, she finally finished as she took another drink off her pint. Ahh, I'm gonna have to find someone willing to dance here soon. It was the only chance she'd probably have until the next wedding she'd be invited to.
He feigned a look of shock, hand pretended to catch the invisible pearls around the elf’s neck. Rude. I’d have made a fabulous Flower Girl, would’a pranced all the way scattering those petals… or leaves… whichever. As usual he hadn’t paid the slightest attention to the fine details just what was expected of him and Megara, in her infinite wisdom, decided to pull a fast promotion instead.
He snorted into his ale, putting another measure down his throat before answering. Her husband can bite me…. Actually he might have before. Anyway. You. He frowned, pushing the lenses down a fraction, You’re not a conniving minx. There’s a difference. What difference, he’d choose not to elaborate on and Ruth pushed back into place the shades, shifting his gaze towards the couple dancing.
Her hints were not lost on the elf, and after noticing they’d each drank a good portion of the first ale of the night, Ruth set his down. He watched the couple for a further moment, a slow smirk began curling at the corners with an idea.
C’mon then, he relented, offering his hand, Let’s get this out of the way now. Then you can at least say I’ve gave you a wee spin before stealing the Bride. It’s fine, Nairn’s the better dancer of the two, he’ll spare your toes unlike me with Meg’s excuse for dancing. When she eventually took his hand, Ruth would snatch it tightly, pulling her onto the dance floor and into a light, natural hold, his hand a respectful placement while the other guided their weaving direction towards the newlyweds.
He grinned at her, attention diverted between guiding her, the path to take and moving in time with the music. See? Not everything I say is bullshit.
Theo tried to hide the loud laugh that bubbled up out of her as he told her about being bit, that might have been something she would have paid to see in the past, before she smirked a little at him, Says you, I can be conniving when I want to be, besides, it's not my way to use wiles. Wiles are meant for the bedroom, not in asking favors. Still, the idea of having to use something to "talk" someone into doing something, didn't sit right with Theo -- she liked the direct approach, usually.
When it wasn't Ruth.
Sometimes when it was Ruth, she had to try and leave a little hint, and just about the time she was looking the crowd over for a partner, she saw the hand enter her field of vision, slipping her own into his and allowing him to take the lead, her steps light and happy as she followed along, dusty blue eyes searching his face. I don't get you sometimes Ruth, but I suppose that's a good thing. Saying you want something out of the way, but I see that smile. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're actually enjoying yourself/
She grinned back up to him finally, Maybe just a little bit. Maybe. It was a tease, allowing him the option to say that he hated it, she'd allow him to deny it, that was their way right now, a little give, a little take, a step forward, a step back, a swing and twirl there. It was a dance, either around the truth, or one another, she didn't know.
He’d smirk, shades finding their place back to hiding the amusement in his gaze. Depends on the favour… but limiting them to just the bedroom? Heresy. Ruth’s brows shrugged as a scoff left him. He may as well be a slave to his wiles, his deviant habits… the self destructive tendency. Sabotaging himself was second nature.
They were moving though and Ruth weaved them across the floor, shortening the distance between them and the bride. Of course I am. I’ve been proved right. Not my fault Nairn has the gonads of a flea and took so long. The hours spent listening to both of them whine and bore him with their feelings about the other were lost forever. He owes me a fortune, but I’m just going to bask in the glow of bragging rights… and steal his bride.
He’d flash her a feral grin as they took two wider steps to intercept the happy couple. Terrible rude of you to hog the lady, Old Sport. The Flower Girl has dues to be paid, he’d pluck one of Meg’s hands free of Nairn’s, and turning both girls into a spin, Ruth’s practised hands attempted to switch out the bride from the Groom's clutches.
Nairn began grumbling, in-between count as he saw Ruth weaving towards them. Stomp on his toes for me? He whispered, before one of Megara's hands were plucked from his own. The two women were twirled, and Nairn rolled his eyes, allowing the switch. Drama queen. I'll happily dance with the esteemed blacksmith.
He stuck his tongue out at his friend. You keep your speech to yourself. I don't wanna hear it, he called, as he led Dora across the dance floor, where there were fewer people. Seeing the bride swept out of her groom's hands had caused the dance floor to fill up with dancers.
He still being dumb? He inquired, as he led their waltz. He was at ease enough, that he didn't keep his gaze locked on his wife.
As she was handed off to Nairn, she gladly accepted that she'd have to steal Megara for a dance later on in the evening, as was her right. After all, she got her first dance in, and now she had the man who was, in all intents and purposes, her boss, so this was nice. He has a speech to make? Remind me to drink some more before then, she teased as they were swung around to the less busy part of the floor, as the crush of people around them happened.
Dora felt her lip curl some at the amount of people, but she would behave for her friend and boss. Dumb as I am, apparently. She answered automatically, watching the blond elf dance with the other woman, the strings on her heart finally loosening enough to turn her gaze up to the much taller man with a look of, Whatever do you mean, Nairn? But the damage had been done, and the penny dropped that yes, she may have feeling for the man, only made much more acutely felt with their recent mis-adventure with her faulty hammock.
But, she was in Nairn's care, and so she gave him her full attention, Of course I know what you mean, I keep teasing but he keeps not noticing. I am rather short though, so maybe I need to get a box and stand on it, she laughed. She's so lovely, I know I've only known her a wee amount of time, but I honestly can say this is the happiest I've ever seen the woman.
Nairn grumbled and Megara’s head turned just as Ruth and Dora came up alongside the couple. She’d grin and chuckle at him while turning and gave his hand a quick squeeze before she was pulled into Ruth’s hold and they swayed away. She watched them exchange childish insults with another laugh and her obvious attempt at stepping on said toes were only just avoided. Ruth wasn’t naive or unaware of the healer’s lack of timing.
"Watch it you," he’d quip, sweeping them a short distance away.
Rolling her eyes, Megara settled, turning her prying grin on him as the fool seemed to be a little distracted. You made the perfect flower girl, she’d comment, following his gaze on the other couple. Others were now joining the floor, still few in number, but enough it wasn’t just the two pairs alone anymore. Glancing over to see how Nairn faired, the Bride couldn’t hide the widening smile meeting her husband, her mate and then chuckling at the glowing face of Dora.
"What that fucker say to her now?" grumbled irritably from the watchful Ruth, eyeing the other pair with a narrowed look.
Why, I can’t imagine it was anything scandalous? she’d tease, turning them and enjoying how Ruth’s head swivled trying to glare at Nairn. She’s nice and sound, like stone, I suppose. I don’t get the impression she’d fuck you over. At least not in anyway you wouldn’t enjoy…
"Excuse me?" he’d scoff, rolling his one eye with extra sarcasm. "Do we want to talk about the last time I took your advice? Cut the lovey dovey, simping bullshit. Just cos you got your happy ending. Some of us are fine being as we are."
For a few moments, the pair danced in silence and then Ruth’s steps came to an abrupt stop. Meg’s head shook. I’m just saying… I don’t think you’d be losing much if you tried it… Are you even listening? But looking up at him would leave whatever she had to say as ash in her throat. Everything about his vacant gaze startled her, her hand moving to shake their hold but suddenly switching to screaming for help as Ruth’s body convulsed violently.
The two of them moved across the floor, exchanging jabs like siblings, a back-and-forth rhythm that came as naturally as breathing. Her attempt to stomp on his toes was about as subtle as a brick, and Ruth sidestepped with a flourish, throwing her a mock glare.
Ruth kept a cautionary gaze on the other couple, flashing Nairn his tongue whenever the two’s gaze crossed, even as more dancers trickled onto the floor. Megara glanced over, her smile growing wider when she caught Nairn’s eye, and practically snickered at the sight of Dora's glowing face. Ruth’s mood soured, and he felt a familiar irritation prick at the back of his mind causing him to grumble.
Megara's teasing voice drifted back to him and Ruth snorted, the words spitting out like bitter seeds. ...Some of us are fine being as we are.
They danced for a few moments longer, the air between them settling into a more comfortable silence. Ruth let the movement distract him, letting his focus drift from one thought to the next, his mind flicking irritably between Nairn, Dora, and the annoyance of Megara’s smug, knowing looks. She was saying something again, her voice light and persistent, trying to nudge him, but it felt distant, like a muffled recording through a wall.
Ruth’s steps faltered, coming to a halt and he tried to shake it off, but the ground felt unstable, like the floor was suddenly miles below him. His head felt tight, a sharp, pressure building behind his eyes, and Megara's voice, once clear, now buzzed like static.
”Are you even listening?”
He wasn’t. The pain hit hard, an invisible fist driving into his skull, and his vision smeared, the lights overhead turning into sharp, spinning shards. Ruth’s breath hitched, and he tried to pull himself back, tried to hold onto Megara’s hand, but the muscles in his arm were twitching, trembling like a wire about to snap. His gaze fixed somewhere beyond her, not seeing, not really processing, and he felt his body locking up, each nerve screaming in a twisted, silent chorus.
The world around him warped, sounds blurring together, the music a distant, distorted thrum beneath the frantic murmur of voices. He was dimly aware of Megara’s hand tightening around his, of her trying to shake him, but he couldn’t respond, couldn’t push out a word. A jolt ran through him, and his body convulsed, jerking violently as if some cruel hand had taken control. His hands clawed at the air, grasping at nothing, and his legs buckled beneath him.
There was no rhythm now, no grace, just a chaotic series of movements he couldn’t control, couldn’t stop. His vision blackened at the edges, narrowing to a small, dim tunnel, and the world felt distant, unreachable. Ruth's body twitched, shuddering, as if fighting against itself. The pain was everywhere, scorching, suffocating, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.
For a split second, there was a flash of clarity, a glimpse of the dance floor spinning around him, the concerned, startled faces beginning to turn his way. Then, without warning, everything snapped, the last thread of consciousness severed. His body crumpled, hitting the ground hard, limbs splayed at odd angles. The lights, the music, the faces. It all faded, dissolving into a dark, silent void.
Things were fine, he was enjoying his dance with the dwarf, conversing with her about Ruth, when he wasn't making faces at the other elf across the room. You're the only woman he respects, save for my wife. Nairn stated, with a shrug, but it was clear by the color of her face that she'd understood. She clarified, and he chuckled quietly, behind his scarf.
Mmm. He's dense, had a bad romance. Soured his heart a bit, I think. The box might be wise, if you intend on making a definitive move. He reached to tap the dwarf's shoulder, brushing a speck of dust from her outfit. Talk shifted to his wife, and he laughed again, shaking his head.
Think you might be right. Only other times she's looked that happy were the first time I let her braid my hair, and when she found me after my absence. Though, she'd not been terribly pleased to find him after his absence, to be fair.
She yelled his name—and he yanked the blacksmith along with him, scanning the room for whatever threat. Dora would see him reach for a knife, tucked safely away. Only for his fingers to falter, when he finally found what she was shouting about. Ruth, convulsing—
Ruth
hitting
the
floor.
Nairn released Dora, and shoved his way through the dancers and gawkers. He'd pause, to squeeze Megara's hand, before he knelt, checking for a pulse. Is he safe to move? Take him to the back-room? It didn't escape him, that the man's limbs were splayed and everything seemed slightly off.
Ach, well, I'll take that, I suppose. Respect is hard won with him, I suppose. And she risked another look over at Meg and Ruth, happy in the moment, chatting together, even as they looked like they were teasing one another. Yeah, maybe.. maybe that was what that feeling she had was. It wasn't like she didn't know what lust was -- she had experienced lust with Mina before, and for a brief time, she thought she had loved the other woman, she was lovely after all. But as her eyes swept over to the grey haired woman, looking beautiful in a dress that covered all her assets, with eyes for the tall man she stood with on the edge of the wedding, Dora knew it wasn't the same.
It was tiny. Small, barely there, but she knew it was different. It wasn't lust, and it wasn't just friendship. It was new and exciting, it made her miserable and elated at the same time, and all she had to do was be a little bit brave and speak up. Soon, she decided. Not today, today was about Nairn and Meg, and she wasn't going to take that away from them, not spoil something beautiful on the off chance that...
Nairn spun her one more time and then there was a yell. Her eyes turned towards the commotion, hands reaching under the bustle of her dress and pulling her twin hand axes, ready to brawl then and there -- anyone who was going to destroy their day.
But this was something she couldn't fight, and she was left alone there, on the dance floor, as Nairn rushed forward.
This was something she couldn't fight, as she stood alone, and watched Ruth crumple on the floor.
This was something she couldn't fight, as her blood ran cold at how wrong the fall looked.
She didn't see a clear enemy to fight, to kill, in the way the man she had just realized she might maybe have feelings for wasn't moving.
And it finally hit her that when faced with something she couldn't fight, couldn't kill, she didn't know what to do.
It was a yell from the other side of the floor, Theo go! that finally got her moving, the grey had vanishing back into the to crowd of people as she made it to Ruth a couple seconds behind Nairn, her axes back in their holsters under her bustle once again. You got him Nairn? Meg what do we need?
