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"My River runs to thee—
Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me?
My River wait reply—
Oh Sea—look graciously—
I'll fetch thee Brooks
From spotted nooks—
Say—Sea—Take Me!"
-- Emily Dickinson
It had been Jester's idea for Beau and Yasha to get married on a pirate's ship.
Yes, a destination wedding was terribly overdone, but Beau had never cared about all that anyway. Hell, she had never expected to get married in the first place, so she hadn't cared to look into all the tropes. But Jester had seemed pleased about it, and Yasha had seemed excited to return to the sea, and Beau had said once that she'd imagined a future with her friends, traveling the world via a poorly-named sea vessel. Marriage was the start of one great journey. It didn't matter to her where it started, only who it started with.
The guest list was short but sweet. The Mighty Nein--all nine of them: Beau, Yasha, Jester, Fjord, Caduceus, Veth, Molly, Caleb, Essek. Veth's family, including little Luc who looked very smart in his formal vest and bowtie. Orly Skiffback, who had agreed to navigate the vessel during the affair, and with him Marius which was...fine. Annoying, yes, but fine. And Marion Lavorre, who had agreed to this small adventure with surprising grace, and only looked slightly nervous about it. She had helped Veth and Jester weave together chains of flowers for everyone to wear, and was wearing her own chain of daisies looped around both of her horns like a crown. Perhaps it was devious of Beau to respectfully admire the beauty of another woman at her wedding, but from the teasing eyes Yasha was giving her, Beau knew she wasn't alone.
She wasn't alone.
They had come out here, all of them, to celebrate Beau and Yasha's love. It still felt surreal, in a sense, to have people care this much. Not only about her, but about the people she loved. And Molly... After everything, having Molly there felt stranger still. He had been the one to introduce Beau and Yasha in the first place, and had come to bear witness to their forever union. His colorful coat was a welcome sight. The rest of the Mighty Nein had dressed extravagantly as well--the clerics had picked the outfits of course, and Beau could hardly complain as she let her gaze linger over each and every one of her friends. An almost-unfamiliar feeling snaked its way into her heart and coiled comfortably in the warmth lingering there. Home. This place was home. These people were home.
"Are you ready?" Fjord asked. As Captain, he was the one with the technically official ability to marry them, though Beau was certain Jester could have forged some documents either way.
"Are you ready, baby?" Yasha repeated, just for Beau to hear. Molly had braided flowers of all different colors into the aasimar's white hair, and her tight white dress hugged her figure nicely. Still, it was the soft curve of her lips that captured Beau the most. She would never grow tired of that smile.
Beau gave a smile in return, and hoped it was as welcoming. "I've been ready for this since the moment I met you."
Yasha laughed quietly, and reached out to tightly hold Beau's hands. She turned to Fjord and nodded. "Ready."
"Alright," Fjord cleared his throat, somewhat awkward despite his obvious excitement. "Okay, let's go. We're all gathered here today to celebrate the union of two of our dearest friends and family members: Beauregard Lionett and Yasha Nyoordin. These two, in my humble opinion, have redefined love for all of us. They have fought for each other--"
"--And sometimes fought each other," Veth pointed out helpfully.
"--And sometimes fought each other," Fjord conceded reluctantly, shooting Veth a withering look filled with false annoyance. "But despite the tumultuousness of their relationship at times, one thing has been unwavering: their love and loyalty to one another."
("That's two things," Veth said; Jester quieted her, though not unkindly.)
"When I say that is has been the utmost of honors knowing you both throughout these years, I do not mean it lightly. You are the strongest and bravest women I know, and you are both undeniably deserving of one another." Fjord cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. Jester smiled fondly at him, and Beau knew the Captain was getting teary-eyed. "First Mate." Beau saluted him. "Orphanmaker." Yasha grinned savagely. "Are there any words you would like to say to one another?"
"Alright," Beau said. She wasn't teary-eyed--it was just the waves of the ocean spraying into her face, was all. "Um, do you want to go first?"
Yasha made a small, inviting gesture. "Please, you--by all means."
"Alright," Beau repeated. She felt every eye on her--but mostly, she felt Yasha's gentle gaze. "I'll go first, then. Yasha. My love. My almost wife. Meeting you--"
Beau's words were interrupted by Luc's cry of "whoa, cool!" followed by nervous sort of noises from both Essek and Yeza, and a too-calm "uh oh" from Caduceus Clay. Beau turned reluctantly away from the woman she was sworn to marry and was immediately met with the unwelcome sight of three warlocks of Uk'otoa--mutated assassins come to reclaim the life and servitude of one of their own.
"Oh shit," Jester said, summing up the situation. "Did we forget about your sea god again?"
"Yup," Fjord agreed, looking rather abashed. He was laughing, but it was his 'shit just got really bad' sort of laughter, not his usual rich sort. "Yup, forgot about my fucking sea god again. This is great. Brilliant."
"Dude, do you mind?" Beau asked in the general direction of one of the growling warlocks. "We're kind of in the middle of something here--oh, crap."
The first of Uk'otoa's minions fired off three eldritch blasts in her direction. She managed to dodge the first two, but took the last blow to her shoulder, wincing in pain as the magic energy impacted hard.
"Are you okay, baby?" Yasha asked immediately, her hands running along the wound and soothing the ache.
"I'm fine," Beau said, through gritted teeth. "But I'm going to kick his ass. All of their asses. Fuck."
Before she could move, a shadow loomed over the ship. It stretched out across the deck and the water surrounded the bow. Then further. Then further. Beau's gaze was pulled up, and up, and up. Scales blinded her vision. Shimmering blue and green rivulets that blended in with the raging sea, but blocked the sun. Up, and up, and up. One yellow and menacing eye met her stare. Then another. And another.
"Oh fuck," Fjord whispered. For the first time in a long time, he sounded truly scared.
"Get below decks," Caleb hissed to someone--most probably Marion and Veth's family. "Get below decks, now. Keep Luc safe, keep him out of danger."
"Oh fuck," Fjord said again.
Uk'otoa plummeted down, directly onto the deck of the ship.
Most of them managed to keep their feet, but Caduceus's slipped out from under him and he fell onto the wooden planks. Hard. "Help," he muttered, clearly at least mildly bothered, but there was no time to help anyone. A magical force pushed out around them and Fjord cried out as he took the brunt of it, falling to his knees. Beau winced as a psychic force pushed into her brain, but managed to shove it off and immediately sought for the comfort of Yasha's arms, which looped around her in response, keeping her safe. It was no doubt as much to reassure Yasha as it was to reassure Beau herself.
"Consume." The voice rang throughout all of their heads--low and rumbling. The voice of a god sworn to vengeance. Despite the Cloven Crystal still settled carefully in their bag of holding, Beau knew this wasn't just about the eyes anymore. This was about an orphan who had found a family and shunned the aberration that had brought him back to life. This was personal. "Consume."
Uk'otoa's minions did not need to be told twice. The ones that had not already attacked surged forward. One held a sword that simmered with energy, and struck out toward Fjord who was still on his knees, clutching his head. Both blows hit, and he coughed up blood. The final minion fired it's spells toward Jester, who was still grabbing desperately at Fjord's body, trying to help him up, trying to do anything to save the man she loved. Two of the eldritch blasts hit her. The last went wide. Yasha let out an enraged battle cry, then flinched slightly as the magic hurled into her own skin.
Beau's resolve solidified at the sight of these things hurting her friends--her family. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her damn life. She was not going to let this stupid fucking sea demon ruin that for her.
"Yasha," Beau blurted out before she could properly think things through. "Marry me. Marry me right now."
To her credit, Yasha seemed more pleased than anything, the rage in her eyes dimming for a moment.
"I mean," she said, the Magician's Judge clasped in one hand, "I'm down if you are."
"Fjord!" Beau had to yell to be heard over the wind and crashing waves. "Marry us!"
"What," Fjord managed, struggling to his feet. He fired out an eldritch blast, green energy crackling toward the serpent towering above them. It caught the tail of the creature, and Fjord cursed as it came down hard on the side of the ship, causing everyone to teeter slightly off-kilter. "Like, right now right now?"
"Yeah, like right now."
"I'm a bit busy fighting my ex-patron sea god," Fjord said, more sarcastically flippant than condescending. "But sure, yeah, I'll marry you right now, clearly nothing more important going on."
"Your ex-sea god interrupted our wedding," Beau pointed out, dodging away as a warlock that was already worse for the wear strode forward and struck out towards her. Yasha swung once, twice, and obliterated the swordsman with a flurry of blood and sea spray. It probably shouldn't have been as hot as it was. "So I think you kind of owe us one."
"Ah--" Fjord leaned back as Essek's signature magic missiles looped around his head and torso, slamming into the serpent's side. "Fine, alright, I'll marry you, give me a second!"
"How many seconds?" Yasha asked, with what was probably mock impatience.
“Gimme a second at least!” Fjord yelled, voice carried by the growing wind. It seemed the deity itself had summoned the storm, the clouds thickening with a fury unique to the toiling sea. Elsewhere on the deck, the wizards hissed out vocal components of their spells and someone—Veth, probably—yelped as something struck her side.
(“All good!” Veth said, and the twang of a bow—barely audible above the din—seemed to confirm it.)
"Consume," a force reverberated within their minds once more. " Consume!"
“Fjord?” Beau cried out again. If anyone were to ask her, she would blame the waver in her voice on the thrust of the wind and the force of the ocean waves tossing the ship about.
“Dearly beloved,” Fjord began, turning around quickly with his sword to hack at one of the warlock minions heading his way. He backed up toward the engaged couple, striking out again. Caduceus shot him a curious glance as he passed, but merely tapped him with some magic shit before fading once more into the shadows. “We are gathered here today to join… shit.”
“Just skip to the ‘I do’ parts,” Yasha suggested impatiently, gesturing a bit too loosely with her sword.
“Do you, Yasha, take Beau to be your wedded wife?” Fjord grunted as he dodged one Eldritch blast, then another.
Yasha looked insurmountably pleased. Beau’s heart skipped a beat at the softness layered into her gaze. It was not the first time Yasha was saying these words, but it was every bit as meaningful—every bit as valued and coveted and earned . “I do.”
"Do you, Beau--" Fjord began. He was cut off as a blast of arcane energy shot straight toward him. He managed to dodge to the side, grunting in exertion, but the ball of magic struck Beau instead. She cried out despite herself, keeling over as she took the pain, hands curling into fists nearly on instinct.
Before she could even stand up straight again, the battle seemed to pause as Yasha--her future wife--let out a furious battle cry. Beau glanced up, meaning to reassure her ("I'm okay, it's just one hit, I'll be fine, I'll be fine for the rest of my life as long as I get to spend it with you") but was struck speechless by the sight of Yasha, feathered wings bamfed out behind her, outlined by lightning striking and snaking through the darkened sky.
Maybe it wasn't Uk'otoa that brought the storm, Beau thought, fists unfurling. Maybe it was the Storm Lord, here to watch his Champion in her happiest moment, where he has seen her so often at her lowest.
Before she could vocalize the words, she was being swept off her feet, literally. Yasha's wings flapped once, twice, and they were being lifted off the ground, away from the din of the battle. Swords clashed below them, magic buzzed through the air, the sea serpent himself struck and raged against the side of the ship. They flew away from it all. Alone, together.
"Do you take me to be your wife?" Yasha whispered. She had sheathed her sword, and both hands were braced against Beau's shoulder blades. The anger in her eyes had dimmed entirely, and Beau saw instead pure, unadulterated, hope. She had always loved that about Yasha--that despite everything she had been through, despite all that she had experienced, she still had hope.
"I do," Beau said. And then again, laughing and crying. And then again, just because she could: "Fuck yes, I do."
They kissed long and hard, the wind whipping through their hair and the sounds of the sea and a dying battle raging below them. Yasha's hands remained a steady presence on Beau's back and shoulder blades, an anchor above the ship, keeping her afloat.
When they broke apart, the battle was over. Fjord--with one hand on his exalted blade and the other clutching his symbol of the Wildmother--stood above what seemed to be the remains of Uk'otoa's body and watched as it lurched back into the murky depths from whence it had came, dead and decaying. The warlocks were all gone, and the Mighty Nein were once again alone. Victorious. Yasha gently floated down, lowering herself and her newly betrothed onto the sea-slick deck alongside their friends and comrades.
Molly was the first to approach them--he always was. He winked at Beau, then leaned up on the tips of his toes to press his lips against Yasha's forehead. "I'm proud of you, love." Yasha's eyes closed at the sound of it. It was still hard to believe he was here. "Congratulations to you too, asshole."
Beau flipped him off, but that secret sense of comfort crept back into her heart. It felt better having him here--having all of the Mighty Nein gathered here to celebrate their love, instead of feeling a distinct loss like a hole in their side.
"Is he really gone?" Jester asked, quietly, bringing their attention back to the god that had interrupted their wedding. "Like, for real this time?"
"I think so," Fjord said, resolute. There was no tremor of doubt in his voice, but Beau knew the Captain sometimes put up a front for the sake of his crew. The encounter had shaken him more badly than he probably cared to admit.
"That's wonderful," Jester said, gaze softening in the way it often did around him. Still, Beau could recognize in her expression the same subtle worry for him as Beau herself was experiencing. Even if Uk'otoa was defeated, it would be a change he'd have to grapple with. "How are you feeling about it?"
"Good. Great, even. I severed my ties with him long ago, and the Wildmother has blessed me with many gifts. I have never regretted following her path." He shared a significant look with Caduceus, who nodded respectfully. "But it still feels like a weight off my shoulders. Like I've been freed from something I didn't know was keeping me down. Does that make sense?"
"It makes a lot of sense, ja," Caleb agreed. "And it also makes for an interesting wedding story."
"I am deeply sorry," Fjord said, turning to face both Beau and Yasha. Beau still hadn't let go of her wife, finding comfort in the solidity of her shape. "About Uk'otoa interrupting your ceremony. I know that wasn't the wedding you expected, and it's my fault he came out here to attack all of us. I haven't been the best wedding officiator, and for that I apologize."
"Not bad for your first time," Beau admitted. "And I think it was probably the most badass wedding in history, so yeah, I'm not complaining."
"Somehow it fit your whole 'chaos girlfriends' vibes so well," Veth commented. She was still wearing her wreath of daisies, though a few had been blown off of their chain, and her dress was slightly torn near the bottom from a near miss with one of the warlocks. "Or chaos wives now."
"Hell yeah, chaos wives," Beau said, lifting her hand to high five her wife (holy shit, her wife.) Yasha caught her hand and held it sweetly instead, pressing her lips to Beau's bloodied fist. For someone so furious in battle, she was certainly one of the gentlest amongst them. It never failed to surprise Beau, how easily Yasha displayed her love and vulnerability. Like she had been waiting her whole life to do so, and Beau was the one lucky enough to be on the receiving end.
"Hey," Beau said softly, as their various guests cleared their throats and made excuses and pretended to swab the deck of the bloody mess they'd all made. "I never got to finish my vows."
"Oh, you don't have to," Yasha said quickly. "I mean, I know you have trouble, sometimes--with emotions in front of people and everything, and I didn't--I don't want you to ever feel uncomfortable. Around me or anyone."
"I am comfortable around you," Beau said. Yasha was still holding her hand, and Beau made no effort to slip away. She only squeezed more tightly. "I'm always going to be comfortable around you. I prepared a whole speech and everything, but I don't know if it would have like, the same effect now, you know? So I think I might just 'speak from the heart.'"
"Okay," Yasha blinked, then smiled widely.
"Okay, here goes." Beau was sweating, and not just from the battle. "Shit, fuck. I can't believe this is happening. I'm getting married."
"Well, technically we're already married," Yasha pointed out fondly.
"Oh shit, I'm married,"Beau said, more than slightly awed by the words. She had a wife. She had a home, and a family who loved her. She had a place to come back to when she was sick and tired. She was loved and cared for. "You're my wife."
"I'll never get tired of hearing you say that." Yasha squeezed her hand again, and Beau felt her own heart clench in response.
"I know I'm not good at traditional vows," Beau began, a rare quietness claiming her words. She wanted to shout them--to let everyone know that this was the woman she loved--but this moment of peace, of relief, felt like a comfortable blanket enclosing the exchange to just the two lovers. "But meeting you... it changed everything. I never really planned on settling down or having a wife or like, any sort of emotional attachments. Because my dad was kind of an asshole who made me feel like I didn't deserve it. But you... you make me feel like I deserve it, the love you give me. You've shown me so many different ways and kinds of love. You showed me that it can be quiet and it can be loud, and that love is something that is given no matter what. I hope you feel that in return. Because I love you. I will love you every day."
"Until death do us part?" Yasha teased.
"Do you think death could stop me loving you?"
Yasha looked on the verge of tears suddenly, and dropped one of Beau's hands to wipe at her eyes. "Beau. I told you before, how I fell in love with you in Kamordah. But the truth is I have fallen in love with you every day since then, too. I... You're just so strong, and beautiful, and amazing, and I still have a hard time thinking that it's me you want to marry. Because I'm still trying to deserve it, too. But I love you so much, and I'm so grateful to have you beside me. Always."
"Always," Beau agreed. One of her hands reached up to tangle itself in her wife's hair as Beau brought her down her a kiss. The salt on her lips could have been from the sea or the rain or from her own tears--it was getting more and more difficult to tell. "Can I tell you a secret?" She asked, when she drew away.
Yasha raised her eyebrows. An invitation.
"You looked sexy as fuck slaying that monster thing."
Yasha laughed and kissed her again--her nose, her neck, anywhere she could reach.
"I love you," Beau said. The words still felt unfamiliar on her lips. "I love you, I love you, I love you." She would say it until she got sick of it.
She never got sick of it.