I wish you would write a fic where Mare and Cal get married
I got you Anon. ((; This has been sitting in my folders for so long, pretty much since the moment I finished Broken Throne. Anyway, here it is. Also be kind, I wrote this with no idea what a wedding for a red and silver would look like so I decided to be cheesy and made it up as I went along. BTW> There is going to be a part 2 (thats gonna have some... fun bits... aka cabin in the woods. (((; If you catch my drift.
@evangelineartemiasamos, @marecal-trash, @mareshmallow, @redqueenfandom, @marecalonly, @marecalforever, @marecalrandomstuff, @anyone-anything-canbetrayanyone, @scarletguardsource, @war-storm, @scxrletguardsdawn, @morebooks-pls, @catchingfandoms5, (I cant seem to find @clarafarleybarrow? I hope she’s good. She might have just changed her name and it’s not picking it up).
I hesitate to glance out the window again, watching the sun climb toward the mountain peaks in the distance. Their peaks scrape the sky, cutting the clouds to ribbons as they thread along them. It’s a warm day for the winter, balmy enough that even indoors its’ almost unbearable. The halls all smell like evergreen and a number of other fruits. Carmadon had spent weeks before the holidays setting up wreaths of dried fruit, making the entire place smell like a forest. Even in this room, where my mother had removed all of them, claiming the smell gave her a headache, the scent still clings to everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if I smelled like a basket of dried fruit after standing in here for so long.
Gisa slowly wraps another length of my hair around the warm curler, humming softly to herself. She finishes her work and reaches for a pin as she says, “Clara looks cute in her little dress, you should see her. She was practicing her walk earlier for Farley.”
I smile softly, watching at my sister pins the curler in place. She picks up another strand, and begins running the comb through it. I had purposefully not dyed my hair again recently, making sure that all of the purple was out of my hair. Years after the war though, my grey ends are gone. My hair is rich and healthy, and so am I, in more ways than one.
My sister tucks the new curler in, and then says, “And Kilorn looks very nice, he even got a haircut for this.”
“Shockingly,” I agree, and she giggles as she picks up another hot roller. She finishes the last curler, and then setting her hands on my shoulders she leans down to rest her chin on my shoulder so we are looking into the mirror at the same time. We silently assess each other for a moment, before she says, “We have a bet too, whether or not one of you cries.”
“Who do you have money on?”
“Him obviously, he’s an emotional wreck normally.”
I laugh at her words, and she grins before pulling away to begin taking her own curlers out. I spin on my little vanity seat to watch her back as she twirls slowly across the room. She looked beautiful in her dress. A dark shade of evergreen, carefully selected with Carmadon’s help months ago. It makes her hair stand out, something she used to hate, but now loves. She had designed all the dresses, from hers to my own, and had refused to show me my dress until it was done. Now, it was laid across the bed behind us, the skirt carefully arranged so that the tulle did not flatten out. I glanced at it for a moment, remembering how the cool satin of the top had felt against my skin the first time I had tried it on. I certainly hadn’t felt like a bride the first time I had seen myself in it, but as the months had passed, and the date approached, I had found myself pulling it out more and more to touch it and imagine myself in it. Today had come suddenly, and yet not quickly enough.
The door opens, and my mother slides in before closing the door, and rushing around, muttering to herself as she adjusts the robe she’s wearing.
“What’s happened now?” I ask teasingly. She glances at me and then waving me off says, “Don’t worry about it, it will only stress you out.”
“Tell me,” I urge, standing, and wrapping the tie of my robe tighter. She glances toward the door before saying coolly, “A certain unexpected guest has arrived.”
“But she said she didn’t want to come, her personal reply was very clear,” my sister replies bitterly, her eyes narrowing as she tugs at a particularly stubborn curler. Shaking her head my mother forces me back down onto the seat and says, “She won’t be a problem, Dane is speaking with her and-“
“If she came, it’s for a reason,” I interrupt, but let my mother force me to sit. Shaking her head again, my mother urges me to relax and not fret about it. I apparently had enough to worry about without adding that to the mix. Still I try to argue, until the door opens again, and Cameron steps through. She tugs at the skirt of the dress she’s wearing and says, “You better not be changing your mind in here. I didn’t wear this bloody thing for hours just for you to change your mind about the whole thing.”
“Who said I was changing my mind?” I hiss, glaring at my mother. She blinks and then says, “I figured it was bad luck to say anything about the finality of the whole thing. Besides, you two had already pushed it back so many times-“
I sighed in annoyance, and then set my head in my hand, exhausted by my mother’s words. “We pushed it back once because we wanted Julian to be here, and Sara, and Dane, and Bree. Besides, it’s only been a few years since there was even an idea of this happening.”
“The months since you two decided this whole thing was a good idea again, or are we talking about the two years you have been engaged?” Cameron groans as she sinks into a chair and puts her feet up. I give her a mocking glare, almost sticking my tongue out at her words. She raises her brow at my expression, and then smirks, drawing a smile from me. I have to look away too, remembering the past four years. Two spent actually trying to figure out of this was something I wanted, and two deciding whether or not we were even going to work out whatever it was that we had. Two years of just letting life take its course. A lot had happened in two years too.
“You weren’t even here for the worst of it,” Gisa bemoans, as she pushes by Cameron, almost kicking her long legs to make her move them. “You should have heard Mare going around the house all day. One minute she’s complaining about the whole thing, the next she’s saying she can’t live without him.”
“You’re being dramatic,” I argue, and my mother hushes Gisa, telling her not to get me worked up. My sister simply rolls her eyes and nudges me aside so that I’m sharing my stool with her as she adjusts her makeup. I smirk at her in the mirror, and say, “I’m still coming to you to complain about everything.”
She opens her mouth to apply a little more lipstick and says, “You better, I want to know all the drama.”
Sighing behind us, my mother shakes her head before opening the closet to get her own dress out. She slips into it, looking every bit as regal as a queen. Gisa spots her struggling with the ties and slides off the chair before hurrying over to tie them for her. I watch the whole thing through the mirror, trying not to laugh when my mother warns Gisa not to tie it too tight. Next to them, Cameron tugs on the long sleeves and then says, “Why in the bloody hell did you two pick to get married in the winter?”
“Because it’s almost spring,” Gisa reasons for me. She did most of the planning, along with Carmadon, the two of them picking every opportunity to send a message. I would wear white and gold, the gold symbolic of the silver weddings, the white to show my own heritage. We would do two dances, one a traditional silver dance that I had spent painstaking hours learning to do. The other would be a traditional red wedding dance that I had been more than pleased to watch Cal struggle to learn. At least he had kept his sour attitude to himself while my brothers tried to teach him. I had been like a cat getting a bath the whole time with the silver instructor.
Cal had gotten more than a good laugh out of it every single time. His favorite part of the lessons was always right after when we left and I mocked the instructor with my impersonation of his court accent. We’d gotten me to the point where I wasn’t tripping over every step though, and Cal had managed to get the steps of our dance down. I had caught him muttering the counts to himself a few days ago though, and had spotted him practicing with my sister out in the small yard behind my family’s house. She’d smacked his arm every time he didn’t keep up with the count, chiding him with a laugh that he needed to speed up.
“Spring for rebirth,” I whispered to myself, as I turned around to look at myself in the mirror again. I had told Gisa that I didn’t want a lot done, I wanted to look like myself. There would be pictures of this event, and I wanted people to see Mare Barrow marrying Cal, not Mareena marrying Tiberias. We had all taking painstaking measures to make sure that people understood that the latter was not happening. The Silver Session has run with it at first, publishing propaganda that I had torn to shreds. Cal had gotten his revenge though, sending them a personal invitation with some language in it that had made Julian raise his brow, and my brothers howl with laughter.
It was all about rebirth though, the start of the next chapter of my life. I would state vows today that would tie me and Cal together until the day we die. And those vows for this event had been changed slightly. They were neither silver nor red, but a mix of both. The wording had been shifted on purpose, Carmadon working with both of us every step of the way to make sure we were making the right statement without being on the nose about the whole thing.
During the process though, I had wished more than anything for it to just be normal. Why wouldn’t we just say the words and get it over with? Why did each one have to carefully selected? And even then it had been run by five different people afterward. It made no sense to me. I had complained about it months ago to Cal when we first started looking into the more serious parts about this ceremony. He had grimaced, agreeing with me, but as always, pointed out the side that I didn’t want to see. This could not look like a union between Norta and Montfort. It had to be political, without being too political. It had to be a statement, but also something that would be forgotten by everyone but those who attended.
A knock on the door surprises me and everyone inside. Apparently Gisa and my mother had been busy whispering with their heads bowed. There was a surprise that I had not been allowed to know about, and that was probably what they were discussing. I call for the person to enter and rise from the vanity. The door is opened a crack by Dane, his expression schooled into careful disinterest as he says, “Pardon the interruption ladies,” he cracks a small smile, but it doesn’t completely reach his eyes, “But our… recent arrival wishes to speak with Mare.”
“She can speak with her while we are all here,” my mother insists, but Dane shakes his head softly, and looks to me. I stand a little taller in response, and hug my elbows to my chest.
“It’s fine, we’ll only be a minute.” I smile at my sister when she tries to protest. Seeing that she won't be able to change my mind, she slips her arm through our mothers elbow and tugs her from the room, pinching Cameron on her way out to get her to move. My friend grumbles about her feet hurting in her shoes but leaves with my sister. They file past Dane who nods and then steps out of the way. I turn away from the door when it is closed again and then move toward the bed, my fingers running along the gold lace in the bodice of my dress, tracing the soft flower patterns.
The door opens again, and I have to take a deep breath to stop myself from turning around to face her immediately. We sit in silence, until she says, “Your invitation… was a surprise.”
I glance at her over my shoulder. She’s dressed surprisingly subtle for this event. She wears a soft glowing orange, but in the light it looks red. I quirk a brow and then say, “Cal wanted to send it. He wanted his family here.”
She drops her eyes, avoiding mine for the most part. The same silence settles around us, before she spots the dress in front of me. She inhales for what feels like eternity before saying, “What a beautiful dress.”
I glance back down at it, and she takes a few steps forward. My muscles tense, waiting for her to do something, instead she steps up to look at it more closely. Her eyes dance over the gold and the veil that is carefully draped next to it. The same golden lace pattern had been sewn into that. She looks over both of them with a critical eye before saying, “You will make it look even more lovely I’m sure.”
It’s the first complement she’s ever given me, and my stomach drops in surprise. I feel a hot blush rise to my cheeks as I murmur my thanks. We sit in silence again, but when I look at her this time, I can see her eyes brimming with tears, and she chews her lip softly.
“I love him more than anything, you know,” she finally says, and I nodded quickly. I hadn’t expected this at all. Anabel Leralorn was not someone to show emotion easily. She had been born and raised in a court that thought it was the largest weakness of all. She turns a ring on her finger over as she continues, “and more than anything I want him to be happy. That was why I gave my blessing for him to stay all those years ago. I knew it would make him happy . . . that, that you would make him happy.”
I can’t control my own expression as well as I would like. My brows rise into my hairline as a single tear rolls down her cheek. She reaches up with a slightly shaking hand to wipe it away and then turns sharply to look at me. She’s taller than me by quite a bit, just like her grandson, but at the moment she seems so small. Her breath comes out shaky, as she says, “When his parents, when they agreed that any children they had would have to be married by Queenstrial, I had been heartbroken. And when he was born . . . it broke my heart even more to know that someday he would be locked into something he might not even want. I had seen how much my son loved his mother, and I wanted nothing more than for Cal to have that as well.”
She raises her chin, as if she is trying to compose herself. I don’t even know what to say, let alone what I should think about this whole thing. She had never, ever admitted anything to me. I knew all this information already though from Cal, who had told me about his mother in small bits over the past few years. I had formed a pretty good picture of her though. Anabel had loved Coriane as much as she loved her own son, and had been just as heartbroken when she had died.
“But I never saw you coming into the picture.” She whispers, drawing my full attention. She looks me over again, but it is not the same critical look she gave the dress, or the same condescending look she had given me before. This is more thoughtful, more like a mother looking over a child before sending them to school for the first time. She runs the tip of her tongue along her lower lip for a moment, before whispering, “Nor did I ever realize what you meant to him. Not until after he had abdicated.”
I hid my grimace. Anabel had made it no secret that she thought Cal’s abdication was my doing. In part it was, but I liked to think that he did it because he thought it was the right thing to do.
Folding her hands together, she sighs softly and looks down at the floor between us. I wonder if she is counting the floorboards like I had been doing hours ago when I had first gotten up and paced the room, my nerves making my stomach turn so much I could barely eat. They’re back now, and I wonder if its because of Anabel’s proximity, or the conversation topic in general. She sighs, and looking up says, “I initially rejected your invitation, thinking I wouldn’t be wanted here. I do not exactly bring happy memories with me.”
I shrug, about to say something, but she cuts me off quickly to finish, “But I regret that thought process now. I want to be here. I want to see my grandson on what I know will be the happiest day of his life. I want . . . I want to be there for all the happy days to come, when there are children, and when you need someone to call on for help.”
She watches me carefully then, and I offer her a small smile before saying, “I can’t make a promise that I’ll like you immediately, and I won’t lie and say that your presence here is not making people nervous. But,” I glance toward the door where I know down the hallway, Cal is getting ready just like I am, “I know that it will make him impossibly happy to see you standing with everyone, and supporting this.”
She smiles softly, another tear rolling down her cheek. She nods quickly, and even though it feels weird, I hold my hand out to her. She glances down at my palm, before softly sliding her hand over mine. We grip each other’s wrists, and I whisper, “I’ll take care of him, make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.”
With a very unladylike snort, she replies, “I wish you the best of luck then Barrow.”
“It’ll be Barrow Calore in a few hours,” I say with a smirk, and she smiles back before saying, “I . . . have a feeling Coriane Jacos would have liked you very much.”
The words make my chest filled with warmth.
Gisa works quickly to finish adjusting the corset at the back of my dress. My mother stands in front of me, smoothing out any wrinkles to the skirt. They don’t ask what Anabel and I talked about, nor do they ask why she left the room teary eyed. That is for later, when Cal and I got back from Paradise Valley. No doubt my sister would want to know everything, but I would just give her a tight lipped smile. What happened at Paradise Valley the week following this wedding would be for me and Cal to know and no one else to find out.
“You’re bags packed and probably already on the airship,” Gisa says she ties off my corset. I smile at her over my shoulder and nod. The butterflies were back in full force. This was the very last steps before I walked up to the doors that would open to Carmadon’s garden that he still tended to at the Premier’s estate, even though Dane was no longer in the position. Radis liked the colors and the order of it, so he kept Carmadon around.
My mother rises from her kneel and smiling at me, she runs her hands up my arms and whispers, “Look at how beautiful you look.”
She cups my cheek softly, her thumb caressing my skin so softly that I barely feel the touch. She is being very careful to avoid smudging Gisa’s very carefully applied makeup. Her eyes are starting to turn red, and then softly she pulls me into a hug and presses me close to her chest. I wrap my arms around her as well and squeeze. I won't cry right now, that was what I had promised myself. When I pull away, my eyes are dry, but the lamp next to the bed gets dimmer as I call on that energy to sustain myself.
Gisa appears at me side then, the veil in her hands. She slides in front of me and places it on top of my head, pinning it in place with the help of my mother who is wiping her eyes every few seconds. She never thought I would make it to this point, let alone that I would get married like this. I would have probably worn her old dress back in the Stilts, after Gisa had made major alterations so I didn’t swim in it. I would have been married to a fisherman on our porch, and any friends we still had would have been invited over for some meager food. Here though, everything is different. Here, we have the chance to have a big wedding, something that all our friends can be at.
My sister adjusts the headpiece and then says, “Dad will pull the veil down right before you guys walk out.”
A knock on the doors makes her look over her shoulder for a moment while her nimble fingers still work at the headpiece. I swallow the lump in my throat and call out for the person to enter. The door is opened by Kilorn who scratches at his new haircut and then says, “are you girls ready yet? We’re all standing out here waiting to go.”
His eyes dance over me, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something in his eyes. A long time ago, and another future away, he wouldn’t have been able to see me today. He would have been getting ready in another room. The emotion is gone as soon as it comes though, he has moved far beyond that fantasy, just like I have.
He gives me a little smile and then says, “I may have put my money on the wrong horse . . . Cal’s definitely going to cry.”
“Shut up,” I tease as Gisa steps back to check her work. She nods to herself and then glances at our mother who nods as well. That’s it, it’s time.
I step forward, and Gisa hurries to grab her little bouquet off to the side. Kilorn will walk her down the aisle, while Tramy will walk Farley, and Bree will walk Cameron. My best friend managed to snag the best man position from Tramy without a sweat, and he had been more than proud of himself for it. He offers my sister his arm, and she slips her hand into the crook of his elbow before looking at em one more time. She smiles brightly and then says, “Make sure you aim for Cameron with that bouquet of yours.”
“Please don’t,” Kilorn grimaces but my sister laughs as she drags him down the hall.
A few minutes later, I hear the music. My mother watches me for a moment, and then slides a supportive arm around my waist when I feel all the color drain from my face. “What is it?” Her question is soft, but it invites no room to hide. I glance at her and whisper, “For so long, I thought I would die before I got to this point. I never let myself picture this moment, I couldn’t even picture it leading up to this.”
My mother smiles and then whispers, “Things have changed, don’t be afraid of it.”
I nod softly, and she guides me out of the room slowly when someone calls for her. She will walk out ahead of me and my father, with Julian. We pause just shy of the doors. Clara is waiting in front of them. She looks back at me, her huge eyes the color of honey in the light. I smile at her, and she smiles a gap toothed grin at me. The woman that Carmadon had left in charge of keeping everyone on schedule pulls Clara to the side so she’s not out in the open, and she makes a face immediately. My mother hushes her though, and tells her it's almost her turn. She’s as much an attention whore as my brother, and it drives Farley up a wall every day.
My father is already waiting for me. He looks about as happy to be in a suit as Bree was. But his eyes look me over before he says, “Your sister outdid herself.”
“She’s a show off, and wants everyone to buy her wedding dresses.” I say with a mocking sigh. He chuckles, and my mother smiles over her shoulder at us before taking Julian’s arm when he offers it. My old teacher gives me a gentle smile. His eyes are fuller than I remember, and the lines in his face are less prominent. He gives me a little nod before walking out into the early evening with my mother when the woman gestures for them to move. Then it is just me and my father, and Clara standing together. The woman waits a few moments, before putting a hand on Clara’s back and nudging her out into the open. My niece is more than ready for her moment though. She walks out with a purpose, carefully reaching into her basket for the petals that she spreads a few of in the doorway. There is a collective sound of everyone cooing outside, and I try not to snort. Clara was probably eating the whole thing up. She’d talk about this for weeks afterward too.
The woman across from us holds her hand up to halt out progress as she watches Clara make her way down the aisle. In the silence that follows, my dad turns to me slowly, and reaches behind me to pull the veil over my face. I watch his face the whole time, and see his eyes are red too.
“Not you too dad,” I say softly, and he looks down at me for a moment as the veil settles in place, before saying, “Do you remember what I told you . . . that night under the house?”
I pinch my face as I try to remember. Then it comes back, Gisa had just had her hand broken, I had found my hand in a prince’s coin pouch, all of it had spiraled from there. But I remembered my father’s words. I can’t let her hope for that. He had been thinking of my mother, about the journey she believed he would take if he left the house for just one night. The memories are still sharp in my mind. I hadn’t known it then, but I had turned the power back on, and my ability had been manifesting long before I had fallen into the force field at Queenstrial.
My father watched me for a moment, and then I whisper softly, “Do you know . . . that was the night I met Cal?”
His brow raised, and I laughed softly to myself and then say, “I met him that night, and you told me that mom would think you leaving the house was some big journey.”
He smiles softly and then whispers, “We certainly are far from the Stilts now.”
I nod with him, and then glance at the doors that are open. It’s almost time. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look at him quickly. His eyes are not dry anymore, and he turns to stand at my side as he says, “We have always been proud of you, and after the journey you have been on, we are even more proud.”
“Shade would have said something like that.” I whisper, and almost regret it. My father looks down at me and says softly, “he would have been the loudest one here, and would have embarrassed your mother.”
I smile, even though I want to cry. My dad leans close to press a soft kiss on my cheek, and then whispers in my ear, “Give this boy hell, will you?”
The laugh that escapes me is broken, the sound hiding my tears as I croak, “He’s already gotten enough hell from me, don’t you think?”
My father’s response is simply a wicked grin, as he offers me his arm. I slide my hand into the crook of his elbow, and grab a bouquet of flowers that Tramy had carefully arranged for me from the table next to me. The flowers spill over my hand and hide the shake in it. The woman waves us forward, and my dad takes two steps to almost brings us in front of the doors.
“Still, I wouldn’t mind seeing him squirm for a few more years.” My dad says finally, but my laugh is like a wheeze as we walk out into the light.
At first my eyes struggle to adjust, but when they do, everyone is already standing. I grip my dad’s arm so tight, I’m surprised he doesn’t grunt in pain. I made sure to quiet the electricity that wants to jump out of my skin, and instead almost tear the arm of my dad’s suit. In response, he reaches up with his other hand and sets it on mine. I am impossibly grateful for it too, because I was certain that hand was shaking too.
“Look forward,” My father whispers, his voice only for me, as we start down the aisle. I look up from my skirts, my heart in my throat, and the electricity just barely on the edge of my perception. If I’m not careful, I turning into a live wire right here, right now.
Everyone’s eyes are on me, and with that thought, I almost pick up my skirt and run back inside. My eyes scan every face though, most of them are people I know, some of them I know in passing. Somewhere metal glints and, I spot Evangeline off to the side. She gives me a grin and then jerks her head in the direction of the front. She had come with Elane, a quiet request I had made in person. She had agreed, and had come with her fiancée. Her brother was not here though, which I had given her specific instructions about.
I take her instruction and look forward, and every single nerve in my body goes quiet, as if I’m walking over Silent Stone. It’s always amusing to me, that no matter the distance, no matter how many people are between us, I always find his eyes first. in the evening light, the rays cut across his face and make his eyes like melting pools of copper.
He shaved, and cut his hair, and he looks stupidly handsome in that suit. Those are my first thoughts. I almost speed up my walk, wanting to get to him now. My day pulls me back though, a soft laugh rumbling through his chest. It takes an eternity, but Cal walks down the two steps to the ground that is very lightly dusted with snow. We reach him a few seconds later, and his inhale is visible in the rise of his shoulders. My father looks him over, before softly taking my hand off of his arm and offering out to Cal. I slip my hand over his palm, feeling the familiar warmth. His fingers close around my hand softly, and my dad whispers, “You take care of her. Don’t think because you’re Silver that my sons and I will not hunt you to the ends of the earth if you hurt her.”
Cal’s temperature rises, and I glare at my dad for a second, but his smile betrays his words. He gives us both the same smile before he steps aside to join my mother. I glance at Cal then, and he gives me a weak smile, filled with nerves before turning to help me up the two steps. We reach the top, and Davidson smiles at the two of us. We had asked him to do this for us, and he had agreed, so long as Radis agreed. The current Premier of Monfort had been only a little slighted that we hadn’t asked him, but in the end, had come to understand that Dane was our friend before he was.
Look over the two of us, Dane dips his head before saying, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Kneel before each other, so that you may see each other as equals.”
That part was neither red nor silver, but something I had come up with one night when Cal and I were three fourths of the way through a bottle of wine. I’d teased him about it, and he had said he would do it. I had thought he would take it as a joke, but the next day Carmadon had called me saying that it was a brilliant idea. I hand my flowers to Gisa who takes them with a smile. Slowly then, I grab my skirts with one hand before kneeling down at the same time that Cal does. The stone is cold under my knees, but Cal pushes a little bubble of heat around us.
Even kneeling he is a head taller than me, and I have to look up slightly. I slip both my hands into his, and smile at him. His eyes dance with light, and I almost miss the next words that Dane speaks.
“May neither of you stand above the other, but always remember that you kneel to no one, or nothing, but each other.” That part was definitely not in any of the plans. Dane had done that on his own, and I could almost feel Carmadon fuming off to the side over his husband’s off book words. With a smile and wink in my direction though, Dane pulls out the dark red ribbon from his pocket.
The red silk cuts through the fading light, and shines with the silver flowers that looked like blooms of fire. It had been stitched by Gisa. Softly Dane wraps our hands, making a careful figure eight between them. We had saved this part of the red ceremony at my request. I had seen my parents ribbon in a box when I was growing up. I had pulled it out and played with it once back when I didn’t know what it was. It took my mother scolding me and explain its significance for me to understand why it was packed away. In the Stilts, the ribbon was saved until one of the partners died, or until they separated. If either happened, the ribbon was cut. Cal had been fascinated by the tradition when I had explained it to him while trying to pick out a ribbon. It was supposed to be unique to the couple, and often people had them handmade. I had picked the patterns for Gisa, and had given her the main idea, but the designs and the ratio of colors had been her decision.
“May this serve as a reminder that you share a heart, and mind, and soul. May you remember with this binding that you have chosen each other, and that with the completion of this knot, you have determined that you will remain bound until death, or duty, do you part.”
Cal eyes followed Dane’s hands as he finished tying the ribbon in the space between our hands. He had been careful to only wrap our wrists, because the next part was the Silver portion of the ceremony.. The ribbon could not be damaged, and although Cal and I had practiced dousing each other’s abilities, sometimes things snuck out. I had a singed sweater sleeve to thank for that.
I glance up at Cal then, my heart pounding in anticipation as he shifts his hand to separate it from mine. Turning it palm side up, he gives me a smile as he says, “From this day, until my last day, I pledge myself to you, Mare Barrow.”
He conjures up small flames that lick at his fingertips, warm, but not hot enough to burn me. I wiggle my wrist in the bindings from the other side and turn my own hand palm side up. Inhaling, I lift my chin to meet his eye as I say, “From this day, until my last, I pledge myself to you, Cal Calore.” Sparks dance in my palms before igniting into purple lightning. It dances between my fingers, enough to shock, but not really hurt
Cal’s lips quirked up at the end from my words. Another one of Carmadon’s careful considerations was to use Cal’s nickname. There would be no more children named Tiberias, something Cal had stated loud and clear when he had officially abdicated.
Carefully, we bring our hands together. My sparks snap at his flames, wanting to ignite more fire. I force them down at the same time that he calms the flame. Gently we close our palms together. The fire bites for a moment before it is extinguished, and I suck the lightning from my palm at the same time. We look up at each other for a moment, until he breaks out into a stupid grin. I can’t help but replicate it.
My blood pounds in my ears, the rush of everything almost too much. Clara steps forward again, just as Dane carefully unwraps the ribbon from around our wrists. She waits patiently, and then holds out the little box in her hands. Cal takes it from her with a smile that he only gives her. She giggles and then runs to Farley even though she’s supposed to go back down the stairs to my mother. A few people in the crowd laugh, but quickly fall quiet as Cal opens the box. Two rings are carefully stowed inside. I watch as Cal pulls one of them out, and then offer him my hand softly. His fingertips barely brush mine as he slides the ring onto my finger, just like he had done with the first one. The red stone glints perfectly against the gold band that lies next to it. Licking my lips quickly, I take the box from him and pull out the match to mine. I hold his hand tighter as I slide the ring onto his finger. In my excitement, I accidentally shock him.
He hides his squirm with a smile, and I grimace in apology. There will be plenty of time for verbal and other apologies later though.
A hush falls over every one, as Cal reaches down to lift my veil up and over my head. It flutters down my back, and he smiles at me as he takes in my face without the curtain of lace in the way. This was the only other red tradition we had saved. The act of removing the veil was symbolic. The husband was looking at his wife anew, and she was both reborn in his eyes and the eyes of everyone present. He reached up to cup the back of my neck, his touch warm and shaking at the same time. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who was excited.
He didn’t pull me in though, he just kept looking at me. I almost rolled my eyes before grabbing his face and pulling it to mine. He was as shocked as I imagined, because his lips crashed against mine, and a ripple of laughter comes from the people who are our closest friends. My brothers snort behind him, and I smile against his lips as I tilt my head to the side. He wraps his other arm around my lower back and pulls me until I’m flushed up against him. A second later, he lifts me to my feet with minimal effort.
Around us, everyone has erupted into polite applause, and raucous shouts in the case of the soldiers from Cal’s squadron present. I pull away from him then, my eyelids fluttering as I look up at him. Pieces of paper rain down around us, making it look like it’s snowing. Keeping his face cupped with my hands, I smile, but he beats me to speaking first as he says, “You look absolutely stunning.”
“You cleaned up pretty good too. No razor cuts,” I tease, making him laugh as he sets me back on my feet. The cheers around us are loud enough to make my ears hurt. Mostly it’s my brothers now, hollering like the heathens they are.
Someone softly taps my shoulder, and I turn out of Cal’s arms just enough so that Gisa can dump my bouquet into my arms. I thank her with a smile, and she gives me a little thumbs up before slipping behind me again. Turning back to Cal, I slide my arm into the crook of his elbow. Nodding down the path and say, “Shall we?”
“I only follow you, Mrs. Barrow.” He replies with a grin bright enough to power all of Ascendant, and I smile as well as we take out first steps down the path together.
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