Chapter Text
Here and now, though paths do oft diverge-- there in Ylisstol's chapel, with veils over their cheeks, they stand before the altar and exchange those softest vows.
The legends will speak of it in years to come: how elegant the ceremony, how beautifully both brides stood, and with tender eyes, gazed upon each other. Cordelia wears white, untouched, with golden bracelets that gleam more brightly than even her armor, but Lissa...
Well, Cordelia thinks, Lissa never quite learned to keep her skirts from dragging in the mud. It is not white as it was meant to be, but Cordelia only smiles, fond. The rouge of autumn's leaves cling to the dampness of Lissa's gown, and these bursts of red are for Cordelia alone. She carries roses in her bouquet, and marigolds, and daisies, but o-- what Cordelia wouldn't give to place them in her hair instead, for the delicate veil is not yet beautiful as Lissa's warm eyes beneath a coronet of flowers.
At last, when the words are exchanged-- "You bet I do!" and "With all my heart, yes."-- bands are placed around fingers once bare, and the promise is sealed with a slow, tender kiss.
Lissa smiles all the way through, and Cordelia cannot stem the urge to kiss her again.
And when she carries the princess over the threshold of her rooms, the knights' barracks begin to feel like a home though they lay empty yet. Lissa brings warmth with her, and every place she touches feels somehow brighter, somehow less lonely.
"I'm afraid these rooms don't have quite the amenities of the castle, my lady," says Cordelia, but thinks instead, my wife.
"Come on, you can't expect me to complain about that, after we spent the whole war sleeping on the ground," Lissa chuckles. "Unless you wanted to move into my rooms in the castle?"
"It's a tempting offer, but I don't think I could bear to do it," Cordelia admits, sighs. "Since that day at the border, the Pegasus Knight division is no more. Perhaps we never shall be, again. The thought of these barracks, completely empty... it's a foolish thought, but I feel as if they would truly be gone. My division... and all of the sisters who used to be in it."
"Then I'm more than happy to be with you, wherever you want to live," Lissa beams. "Besides... just having a real bed is enough for me, right now. It's a little dusty, but I've seen way worse while marching."
"Still... it scarcely seems fit for a princess," Cordelia touches Lissa's cheek, brushes her hair from her face.
"I think it's just right for this princess," Lissa, with a wink, lifts her muddied train-- and Cordelia, gloriously, laughs.
It is a song to Lissa's ears, that rare laugh of Cordelia's. It is a song that has enchanted her completely, the notes playing on her ears, and listening, she leaves the Exalted house of her forefathers to chase after it. Wherever it may lead her next, she does not know, but Lissa has never been a woman satisfied with gilded cages. This love of hers, it feels the sea-air in her hair, a feather upon her cheek, their bare feet running through meadows or gardens or time itself.
Her heart dances, and Cordelia's voice is her home now.