Chapter Text
Two leaders walk across a battlefield.
One wears bright yellows and whites, his robes draped across him extravagantly. He steps over corpses and shakes his boot out in distaste.
One wears dark purples and blacks, her clothing tight-fitting but opulent. She walks between trenches and traps.
They are pristine in the middle of the dirty, dying, land, and they have come to put a stop to the war.
When they meet in the middle, their servants set up a fold-up table with two chairs on either side of it, one white and one black. The leaders take their seats, and the servants unroll a scroll for each of them and present them each with ink and quill.
“The war shall cease,” says the Daybreak. “All battles shall cease once news reaches them.”
“And news must be brought to them as soon as possible,” says the Nightfall. “No longer will we fight over land; we will stay on ours, and you will stay on yours, short of embassies and diplomatic visits.”
“The disputed territory will become shared territory, ruled over by the King and Quing.”
“Yes, by the Chosen Ones of Shar and of Lathandar. They will be joined in marriage and they will rule unanimously over the shared territories for a minimum of ten years.”
“And so it shall be,” says the Daybreak.
“And so it shall be,” says the Nightfall.
“The war comes to an end,” they say in unison. They each sign their signatures on their respective scrolls, and then swap scrolls to do the same to the other’s. The servants bow and take the scrolls, rolling them up and putting them safely in magically-sealed containers, and the leaders rise from their seats.
“We will meet for the union of the Chosen Ones in exactly one cycle,” says the Nightfall.
“In the garden of the palace of the shared territories,” confirms the Daybreak.
“We shall see you then.”
“So you shall.”
☼☼☼
“Now then,” Zabrell says, flitting around the room as the servants work on Ileao’s hair and makeup. “Let’s discuss the basics again. For the sake of this truce, you are expected to be the perfect partner.”
“Of course,” says Ileao, rolling eir eyes. “Perfect. My specialty.”
“Ha ha,” Zabrell says sarcastically. “I mean it, Ileao. You can’t mess this up for us. The war has been going on for centuries—this may be our only chance to end it.”
“Fine, fine, go on then.”
“The marriage will last a minimum of ten years,” Zabrell reminds em, “after which you may divorce if you wish, but you will still be expected to either rule the shared territories or pass the duty on to an heir.”
Ileao winces, and Zabrell glares at em. Ey put eir hands up defensively. “Fine, fine, yes, I get it! Go on.”
“You’ll be living in this palace in the overlapping territory of the Daybreaks and the Nightfalls,” Zabrell says. “It’s a beautiful place, with abundant gardens and plenty of servants to tend to your every need. Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah,” Ileao mumbles. “Great.”
☼☼☼
“You don’t have to be together twenty-four/seven, obviously,” Kevin says as the servants brush through Alex’s hair for the twentieth time. “Behind closed doors, you can do whatever you want. But you’ll have to keep up appearances.”
“Of course,” says Alex, straightening his bow tie. “Appearances. My specialty.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kevin says with a huff. “Now, you’ll have to attend a good amount of public events. The first one is tomorrow, the day after the wedding, but there will be many more.”
“So I’ve been told,” Alex mutters.
“Right. And you’ll occasionally have to make some really big decisions for the territory, which you’ll have to agree upon beforehand.”
“That will be the hard part,” Alex sighs. He wonders what kind of partner he’ll get, whether they’ll be rude or polite, whether they’ll be as uptight as all the other Daybreaks he’s met.
“You’re going to do great,” Kevin assures him. “Now let’s get you out there, buster!”
☼☼☼
Alexander stands beneath the ornate flower arch, nervously awaiting his new spouse. Kevin stands to his right, and all of his Nightfall friends are right in front of him in the audience. The neutrally ordained cleric of Boldrei stands behind him.
The organ player begins playing, and a beautiful blue-skinned elf comes walking out from behind one of the hedges, arm in arm with an older looking green-skinned elf. Alex ’s new spouse is wearing a beautiful white and gold dress with a huge train and several servants walking behind em to hold it up. Alex swallows hard, taking in his new spouse’s bright blue eyes and cute pink freckles. Ey’re just as done up as he is, and twice as nervous by the looks of things.
Alex smiles warmly in an attempt to calm eir nerves. Ey give him a hesitant smile in return.
When the elves reach the flower arch, the older elf stands off to the side while Alex ’s new spouse gets into position right next to Alex. They’re about the same height, though his spouse’s hair is a bit taller than his. Ey bite eir lip, and Alex just keeps smiling.
“We are brought together here today,” the cleric says loudly, “to witness the union of Alexander Candleson of Shar and Ileao… ahem, Ileao Ileao of Lathandar.”
Ileao. What a beautiful name. Ileao seems to be testing out his own name by mouthing it silently, which is, frankly, adorable. When ey catch him watching eir lips, ey shoot him a glare, and he quickly looks away.
The cleric gives a speech, most of which Alex doesn ’t really comprehend. He’s zoned out thinking about what his new life will be like, all the compromises he’ll have to make, all the cultural practices he’ll have to give up and the ones he’ll have to learn.
And, of course, thinking about Ileao. What ey ’re like. How ey’ll act. Whether ey’ll take the lead or look to Alex for instruction. How long ey’ll want the marriage to last after the ten years.
“Have you come here to enter into this marriage will full understanding of its implications for the war?” the cleric asks.
“I have,” says Alex.
“I have,” says Ileao.
“Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to respect and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?”
“I am,” says Alex.
“I am,” says Ileao.
“Alexander, do you take Ileao for your lawful spouse, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part, for the betterment of your two realms?”
“I do,” says Alex.
“Ileao, do you take Alex for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part, for the betterment of your two realms?”
“I do,” says Ileao.
“May the gods in their kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before us and graciously bring to fulfillment their blessings within you. What the gods have joined, let no one put asunder,” the cleric reads. The ringbearer walks down the aisle, approaching with the pillow upon which sit the two rings. “May the gods bless these rings, which you will give to each other as the sign of your love and fidelity.”
Alex takes one of the rings and slides it onto Ileao ’s fingers, and Ileao does the same for him.
“With Lathandar as our first beginning, with Shar as our last end, may this couple come together under the blessings of the stars. With the gods’ permission, I now pronounce you husband and spouse, and declare you King and Quing.”
The audience erupts into rapturous applause. Alex takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his nerves reaching a peak as he realizes it ’s actually done. He’s… married.
“You may kiss,” the cleric says, and Alex feels his cheeks flushing. He looks to Ileao for permission, and while eir cheeks are pink and eir gaze is on the floor, ey take a step towards him.
Alex leans forward and tilts his head, putting his lips against eirs for a brief, chaste kiss.
When they lean back, both their faces are still flushed, and Alex is mighty embarrassed, but the crowd is sated. The cleric closes his book, and Kevin takes Alex ’s arm as Zabrell takes Ileao’s. Ileao and Alex join hands between them, and they head inside for the reception.