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Ceremonies

Summary:

Sort of a one word prompt I wanted to write in honor of these two.
Plus I need to flesh their relationship out into writing and make some fluff.

Notes:

Cito and Cavvasa belong to a series I'm creating, the former being one of the supporting cast. This is set quite a ways in the past, 30-40 years or so.

The concept of soulmates in Cito's culture is far different from ours. A lot of the time we call a soulmate our "other half" as if we're incomplete without them, whereas Cantons believe soulmates are people with some kind of soul connection. Some are platonic, some are romantic and some or neither or both. Some people have one soulmate, some have multiple, some of multiple types or one type, some have none. These connected souls 'call out' to each other and the feeling is unmistakable-a peace and joy unlike any other.

Though this connection will not sever upon death, it will hurt. And never again will they be able to experience that peace. It often leaves a gaping hole in their soul, an unquenchable thirst or quietly stinging heat.

Work Text:

A wild, spiky mane of blue tinted raven hair walked into the bedroom she and her lover shared. Her hair was the same as it always is but she wore a particularly elegant dress. The sleeveless top's design complemented her broad shoulders and muscular frame while the medium length skirt flared perfectly on her hips. The shawl she wore was perfectly tailored for her height, thanks to Fxena and her master seamstressing skills, a deep color with light wooden beads and a simple trim.

"How do they look? I can't really tell."

She turned sideways to allow him to look at the shoes in profile. And to look at her calves, since it was difficult to do so in her position. Still she tried, waiting for his response.

"Hm?" He looked up from his waistcoat buttons with the kind of smile he always had when she was in the room, still seated on the bed. Though the moment his gaze wanders from his shirt to her his jaw drops slightly at the woman in front of him.

The moments of (stunned) silence drew her gaze up in impatience. They make eye contact and time seems to halt around them, threads of their souls extending out and intertwining almost desperately. Everything is out of focus, unimportant iin this moment and any they spend like this. His face is one of awe, lovestruck, adoring awe. Brows creased slightly more than normal, lips curled just slightly into a half-smile half-gape. He can see clearly what she is, inside and out. The most beautiful being -or thing- he has or ever will see. Words don't work to explain properly, but every individual part of her was perfect to him. It gave him peace, and the same for her.

Even if she was less in tune with whatever all this was, she felt it like a-
Intangible, fiery, cold, comfort.

 

She breaks their longing stare match, trying to block the rush of heat flooding her cheeks. Has she gotten used to it yet? No. Will she ever? No?

"I'm talking about the heels, doofus. Not me."

Upon her words he snaps back into focus and his eyes drop down to the heels she's wearing.

"Oh, uh-" Shoes were the last thing on his mind.
He takes the time to look at her shoe choice, tilting his head left ways. His lips smooth into a concentrated, thin line.

The heel bits themselves were short but dagger thin, while the shoe was open toe and straps ran across the top of the foot. It was gray colored, gun metal, covered in glimmering sparkles.

He looks back at her, smiling almost instantly. "They are nice, the hue does well with your eyes. Your legs look wonderful in them." She smiles in satisfaction, finally taking a moment to take in his attire.

"Thanks." They make eye contact again and the silence is filled by their gazes, speaking more than words could describe.

There's a few minutes to spare until they have to leave. She sits on the bed and rests her head on his shoulder, their hands interlocking.