Chapter Text

prelude.

What use was a winter wedding? During the winter time, the pond water in the Valkyrie Gardens froze over, crystallizing to sheet of fragile, frostbitten ice. They pruned every shrub of dead leaves and branches, and sent the children to fish wishing coins from the fountains before the water grew too cold. Not that any of them minded the chill, really.

Dizzy could see beyond those gardens from Ky's office in Illyria Castle. Here the two of them were again, when all Dizzy really wanted was to be at home. Betraying her usual refinement, she slumped over in her seat with a huff of air. She was tired, it was as simple as that. As per usual with their shared life, Ky and Dizzy endured a whirlwind of world-ending threats, dangerous detours and daily interruptions. If it was not Happy Chaos, it was I-no, it was Ariels, or it was the Post-War Administration Bureau. Her fingers tapped on a varnished office desk. From soldier, to officer. A criminal, or bounty hunter, or king. 

And now, a queen. The image fell into place so naturally: Dizzy, in her white dress, with her rose-colored cheeks and dark raspberry lips and her hair tied back: half up in a braid, half down to the floor like a wedding veil. A golden, ceremonial crown fit squarely on top. And then, as she crooked to the side, she could see out beyond the skywalk to the people of Illyria cheering below. The air would not make her lightheaded, but perhaps the pressure at the back of her skull, or at her heels, would.

In her youth, Dizzy daydreamed of blood spilled in her mother's name. Some had called her mother the Queen of the Gears, and by extension, Dizzy was their Princess. How easily time forgets a century of blood (or, how easily time remembers Dizzy's bravery). It was a quiet, private contemplation—that she was once humanity's greatest demon too.

Her heels clattered with every step, arm linked around Ky while a hand hovered at her back. He leaned over to whisper something into her ear, the two of them trading words like school children in the middle of class, out of earshot from the Praetorian Guard.

"Just smile for now," his body was stiff and wooden. "And then we can sit down."

Dizzy pinched Ky's lower back. "Your posture, dear."

They shared a small chuckle, reminiscing of quieter days. Or rather, they pretended those quiet days ever existed in the first place.

After the coronation was settled—and the public uproar and rabble died down weeks later—there was another matter entirely weighing on Dizzy's mind. The light snowfall looked different from her vantage point, because unlike Ky, Dizzy found some solace in the fact that her birthday came in the wintertime. Waltzing down the skywalk, Dizzy was flying again. Her outstretched wings beat in a rhythmic thump, with a trail of snow and molt following behind her.

Come the new year, Dizzy sat in Ky's office chair at the Kiske household, her slender fingers laboring over a stack of envelopes and greeting cards with a ballpoint pen. The off-white cardstock was printed with embossed gold letters and Dizzy thumbed over an image of Ky and herself posed together. 2181.

“Are you just going to stand there, baby?” Dizzy hummed, not taking her eyes from the desk. Call it a mother’s intuition. Or, more simply: the fact that Sin was never quiet around the house. If there were loud footsteps about, it was almost certain they were his. “What is it, mm?”

Two firm hands gripped onto her shoulders, playfully. Sin rested his head over his mother’s shoulder and Dizzy brought a hand up to pat his head. “What are you writing?”

“Wedding invitations,” she said, tilting her head. She offered Sin a card. “Do you want to write some too?”

He leaned back, clapping a fist into his palm. “Oh, yeah! Eh, I’m good. Don’t wanna mess ‘em up.” After a pause, he continued: “Right, right. You and Dad were talking about this thing. Didn’t realize it was coming up so soon, I guess.”

“We’re going to get you an outfit this weekend, baby.”

“Huh?! What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”

Dizzy laughed. Sin's face puffed up with childish anger. Then, a moment later, he yielded and started laughing too. Not long after, the door to the office swung open. Ky pushed past, rustling Sin's hair. Sin whispered something under his breath, embarrassed, and then lightly punched his father in the shoulder.

Ky leaned down to give Dizzy a kiss on the forehead. “Good evening, dear,” he smiled softly, offering her a subdued laugh. "I told you I could help."

"It's fine," she shook her head. "It's too late now, anyways." I might as well do it myself, went unspoken. Ky could surely tell, but his lips pursed wordlessly. It was one small step in a exceeding amount of work. He leaned over to give Dizzy another kiss.

What use was a winter wedding, when Ky and Dizzy had already married? It was six years ago that their ceremony concluded with an ice cream cake and party streamers hanging from the apartment ceiling. Ky’s arm swung around Dizzy’s waist, dipping her into a kiss—only to be sprayed in the face with canned whipped cream. Then, Dizzy cupped her hands around Ky’s face, kissed him for real and laughed against his lips.

Every now and again, Dizzy looked back at that wedding album. Pictures guarded between plastic sheets, a lacy white dress and a train of tulle, poised next to a marble pillar. Her hair in a loose bun, a dance and a homemade dinner. Where did Ky learn to play the piano—it was one of the old Captains who taught him. Where did Dizzy learn to dance—in tune with the bounty hunters' footsteps as they patrolled outside the grove.

Yes, they had already done this once before, and a second time was only to appease their own selfishness. A desire for the life unfit for the child soldier and the daughter of a Beast.

With Dizzy’s ascension to the throne, they could soon enough, after all these years, acquire a legal marriage certificate. In an interesting twist of fate, however, laziness overcame the both of them. ' Really, we should get this done ,' only to be followed by a ' Maybe after dinner. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after that. ' A legal document was no more than an excuse for a grand party and some bragging rights.

And so, it seemed like an exercise in futility. The two of them would sign a document, once and for all, and that would be the end of it. No grand gestures, no honeymoon.

Of course, it was Elphelt who first had objections: “Aww, please Mr. Ky!” She pleaded. “I want to see a wedding, a real one this time!”

She grabbed Ramlethal’s hands and twirled around the room, with the elder Valentine confused, yet a sheepishly smile graced her face. Ramlethal’s own, subdued voice came a few moments later: “It would be nice.”

Excitedly, Elphelt hugged Ramlethal. "That's two against two! Sin, you're on our side, right?"

"What the hell?" Sin clicked his tongue and rubbed the back of his head. "Deciding's too much pressure."

In all honesty, this was reason enough. Dizzy couldn't help but feel a swirl of butterflies in her stomach. How silly, that something settled years ago came back to rear its head. They both acknowledged, however, that maybe this was alright.

Maybe, they deserved to have this.

"Right then," Ky conceded. "We can't have a wedding if we don't have a venue."

Ky and Dizzy shared a nod and deliberated. A broadcast wedding would be a hassle, Dizzy decided. Ky, for his part, was not eager to bother the other kings with frivolous wedding plans at the Castle. And for once in their lives, could they settle with being outside of public scrutiny. So a private wedding, then. They had already done this once before, and they would do it again. 

Still, the world was full of vigilant eyes, vultures waiting for their next meal. Dizzy sighed. Neither her nor Ky could do anything without it becoming a huge affair. Surely, there must be somewhere in this universe that can only belong to them.

Silence lingered on the living room, and Sin restlessly tapped his feet on the floor. Elphelt too, seemed particularly deep in thought. Until, Dizzy jumped up, clapping her hands together. In unison, everyone in the living room turned to look at her.

"We should get married on the Mayship!"

Ky’s face dropped. Dizzy leaned over and placed her index finger over his mouth. “Come now, dear,” she laughed. “I knew you would have something to say about it.”

“I’m that easy to read, am I?” He laughed. She could tell from the look on his face, a classical furrowed brow then wide eyes. His mind was moving miles and miles trying to work out the logistics. Finally, Ky asked: “Would May be alright with that?”

Dizzy tapped her chin. “It's not as though I wasn't going to invite her," she said. "Consider it a favor for an old friend, yes? And according to Johnny, I'm still “one of his girls”, after all.”

"Very well," he said. He was just along for the ride, and his personal lack of creativity meant that Dizzy knew best. "A favor for an old friend, hmm. This time it's not life-threatening circumstances at least."

Ky sighed, followed by a laugh. He wasn't merely giving in to her whims, Dizzy could tell he was excited from the slight hum in his voice. Just as he was about to leave the room, Dizzy noticed Ramlethal tap on his shoulder.

"I can talk to May if you want, Ky," Ramlethal said. "We're—"

She paused. With her hat hugged against her chest, Ramlethal bounced up and down on her heels, timid.

"We're friends."

Dizzy smiled, she knew it wasn't just her and Ky who deserved this. In all honesty, this was reason enough.