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Thunk thunk.
Even jumped, badly startled, at the sound of the knock at the door. The crown of flowers he’d been holding slipped out of his frost-covered hand, falling to the floor with a soft thump. He cursed under his breath as the knock sounded again.
”Obviously I’m occupied!” He snapped over his shoulder as he stooped to pick up the crown—and then stopped, noticing the flakes of ice drifting off of his fingers. He cursed again, and behind him the door swung open.
”Oh dear,” Ienzo said from the doorway. “I thought you said you could get ready on your own. Are you alright?”
”No!” Even shot to his feet and spun to look at the three figures in the doorway. “What a ridiculous question! Do I look all right to you?”
He didn’t have to look in the mirror on the wall beside him to know he looked a mess: his hair disheveled from trying to place the flower crown on his head just so, his tie askew in the helpless knot he’d made of it, his cheeks and ears burning red and clashing terribly with the light blue of his suit.
”As this is a special occasion and I’m sure you’re very stressed, I’ll ignore your tone and ask a different question,” Ienzo said lightly as he stepped into the room, Aeleus and Dilan following after him. The three of them were all in their groomsman attire, looking both dashing and neat—the exact opposite of how Even felt. “How can we help?”
”The tie’s the first thing, clearly,” Dilan said, raising an eyebrow at the alleged bowtie around Even’s neck.
”You would think it would be simple!” Even groused as Aeleus stepped around him to pick up the flower crown still on the floor. “The shape should make it practically impossible to mess up!”
”And yet,” Dilan muttered. “What happened to the crown?”
“My nerves ruined it,” Even said, holding up his hands to show them the frost still lingering at the tips. “The ice froze the stems, and at least one of them became so brittle it snapped—I heard it! And after Lauriam spent his precious time and energy creating it for me—“
”We could bring it to him,” Aeleus suggested. “He could fix it easily.”
”He’s getting ready himself! I can’t bother him with every little thing. And I couldn’t stand him seeing me this way.”
“Let me take a look at it,” Aeleus said, and he sat down with the crown in his lap, running his hands over the braided blooms with a careful gentleness.
“There, that’s one problem solved,” Ienzo said with an approving nod. “As for the tie…
“Here. I’ll do it.” Dilan stepped up close and started undoing the knot Even had made of his tie. “Take a breath, you’re shaking like a leaf.”
“I am not,” Even tried to snap, but the tremble also present in his voice robbed the statement of its intended attitude. Dilan raised a brow, and Even looked away in a huff.
“Dilan is right,” Ienzo said. “Take a moment to breathe. The ceremony can’t start without you, after all.”
“We have time,” Aeleus agreed.
“Precisely the problem. Every minute feels like an eon.” Even continued to stare off to the side, though he did as Dilan and Ienzo suggested and took a few deep, slow breaths. “I don’t know how anyone can be relaxed before an event of such importance.”
“What is there to be nervous about?” Dilan’s eyes were focused on the silk of the tie as he spoke. “It’s not as if he’ll leave you at the altar. If anyone was going to do such a thing out of nerves, it’s you.”
“I would never!” Even spluttered, aghast. “How dare you even suggest—“
“Dilan, please. Working him up won’t help,” Ienzo said.
“Are you sure?” Dilan asked as he tied another, far neater, knot at Even’s throat. “If he ran out of energy perhaps he’d calm down.”
“I’m calm,” Even snapped. “Perfectly so.”
“The flakes of frost on this tie suggest otherwise.” Dilan paused, giving him an appraising look, and nodded. “There.”
Ienzo leaned forward to look at the tie, too, and smiled. “You see, Even? The tie conundrum is resolved. And I think Aeleus is nearly done with the crown.”
“I am,” Aeleus said. He held up the crown of blooms for the others’ inspection, and Even was extremely relieved to see that the snapped stems had been repaired, tied together in a small knot, and was now hidden by some carefully repositioned leaves. “It should hold.”
“Thank goodness,” Even said, though he didn’t put the crown on just yet—his hands were still a little frosty, and he didn’t want to damage any of the petals or vines further. “I do appreciate it, truly…how are things outside? Have Xion and the other children arrived? Has she been given the rings? Did they—”
“Everyone is right on time, and the preparations are proceeding well,” Ienzo cut in. “If anything goes wrong, we’ll be there to help fix it. And surely the guests will be too happy for you both to care if you’re nervous.”
“Well, of course…” Even sighed. “I know that you’re right. But I cannot help my nerves.”
“Never pictured yourself getting married, did you?” Dilan had taken a step back to look him over, surveying the rest of Even’s suit with a critical eye.
“Decidedly not.”
“Spending a decade without a heart would destroy anyone’s idea of their future,” Aeleus said quietly.
“I don’t recall any particular period before that where marriage was on my mind, either,” Even said. “It wasn’t something I considered for myself at all until…well. Until recently.”
“Things change,” Ienzo said with a smile. “The future can be very different from what we imagine. Or don’t imagine. I find it inspiring–there are events in our futures no one will be able to predict until they happen.”
“You do realize why that would be a stressful idea, don’t you?” Even asked, but his voice carried very little bite.
“Of course–exciting doesn’t always mean satisfying. But we can still hope for joyful occasions, like this one.”
“That is true enough,” Even conceded. “But it doesn’t change my feelings. I still cannot help but worry.” He paused. “I know he would not leave me at the altar, but do you think at some point he might realize that I’m far too old for him and—“
Out of the corner of his eye, Even saw Aeleus, usually so stoic, look up at the ceiling as if asking for patience from above. Dilan shook his head, and Ienzo touched Even’s arm. While his tone was still light, his eyes were narrowed slightly in the beginning of a frown.
“Even,” he said, “when I agreed to be your groomsman I did not agree to listen to your baseless worries ad nauseam.”
“Hasn’t he told you a dozen times he doesn’t care about that at all?” Dilan asked.
Even rubbed at his face with his hands. “At least two dozen,” he said, his voice muffled. “Forgive me. I know there’s no evidence for my anxieties. And, er...please don’t mention my panic to Lauriam.”
”We won’t say a word,” Aeleus assured him.
”Though he knows you well enough to guess,” Dilan added under his breath.
Even shot him a look, but then simply sighed. “Of course, but it’s the principle of the thing. Now…would one of you assist me with my hair?”
In a room just a couple hallways away, Lauriam held very still as Elrena arranged a handful of vivid flowers in his hair. He could have done it himself (and frankly, he could’ve done it far more deftly) but Elrena had insisted on helping him prepare for the ceremony, and it was nice to watch her work. She’d made him sit down for it in a nearby chair—“Everyone around here is way too tall,” she’d said with a roll of her eyes, “including you.”—and, after they were sure they hadn’t creased the tails of his suit jacket, leaned in close, her lips pursed in concentration as she made certain the blooms were properly secured.
“There,” she said. “What do you think?”
Lauriam slowly turned his head back and forth, testing the security of the flowers, before looking in the nearby mirror. None of the flowers jostled with the movement, and remained firmly on his head–and they looked nicely arranged, too. He smiled at the sight, and looked at her through the mirror.
“Wonderful,” he said. “Thank you.”
“You can tell me if it’s crappy, you know.”
“I would tell you that if they were, but they’re not. You did a fine job.”
“If you’re sure,” she said, but she looked somewhat appeased as she stepped away. “Let’s do the bouquet next.”
“Of course,” he said, and crossed the room to a small table, on which rested a couple of ribbons and a handful of carefully selected birds of paradise blooms. He gathered up the stems as Elrena straightened out the ribbons, looking them over for wrinkles. Lauriam’s fingers traced the edge of the beak-like leaf of one of the flowers, and then over the smooth, soft petals that held the shade of a sunrise. The color, even after all these years and the blurring of his memory, was so familiar, and all the more precious for it.
Elrena had paused as he gazed at the flowers, and when he looked up, her usually sharp eyes were softer than normal. After a moment, she reached out and touched his wrist.
“She would be here,” Elrena told him. “If she could.”
”She is here.” Lauriam lifted his hand from the petals and laid it over his heart. “With us, always.”
Elrena’s lips trembled for so brief a moment that anyone other than Lauriam wouldn’t have caught the motion, and then nodded her head and began to tie the ribbons in her hand in a knot around the stems of the birds of paradise. Lauriam let her work in silence, not trusting himself to speak either. He believed what he’d said, with all his heart, but the pain was there too. The silence lingered over them, not heavy, but noticeable.
Lauriam could imagine that Even’s room, somewhere nearby, would hold no silence at all—not least of all because his nerves would certainly make him even more snappish than normal. He smiled a little at the thought, and was grateful the other apprentices would be around to calm him down, or if that failed, let him run out of steam.
“What’s so funny?” Elrena asked.
“Oh, just imagining how noisy it must be in Even’s room right now.”
”Ugh.” Elrena’s nose scrunched up in annoyance. “You think he’s freaking out?”
”I’m sure he’s nervous. You should have seen him when he proposed—he could barely get a word out. But the others will look after him.”
”So long as he doesn’t choke when he’s doing his vows. But I’ll keep my gummiphone handy just in case.”
“And where on earth are you going to hide it in that dress?”
”Dress? I’ll keep it in my bouquet! Don’t worry about it. And if I miss Even embarrassing himself, I’m sure someone else will get it on camera—Ienzo’s given out enough phones that someone will be recording. Probably.”
“I can’t stop you from recording, I suppose, but at least keep the video to yourself.”
She put a hand over her heart in supposed shock. ”What would ever make you think I’d do something so terrible?”
“Elrena.”
”Fine, fine, ruin my fun. There better at least be good music at the party after. No sitars.”
“No sitars, I swear.”
”Thank god.” She looked him over, eyeing the flowers in his hair for a moment, and then crossed her arms over her chest, looking proud. “Need any more help? Or should I make sure everything’s ready to go outside?”
“I’m sure it’s taken care of,” Lauriam said. He paused, and then added, “Would you wait with me until it’s time?”
Elrena blinked, momentarily speechless, and then quickly nodded. Her ears looked a little pink as she said, “Yeah, if you want. Better than getting roped into moving chairs around or something—I’d get all sweaty and look atrocious in every photo.”
”We can’t have that, of course,” Lauriam said. “Exactly why I’d like you to stay.”
“Smart thinking.” She stepped around him to the small window across the room, opening the curtains a little. “Look, we can see some of the guests hanging around.” She was quiet for a moment, and then scoffed. “Ugh. What the hell is Lea wearing? Those colors are revolting.”
Lauriam laughed and joined her at the window, letting her regale him with commentary and ratings of each guest’s attire whenever they spotted one walking towards the venue through the trees. Others had offered to help him get ready for the wedding, and he’d appreciated them all, but this was exactly what he wanted—himself and his closest friend, waiting for an event even he couldn’t have predicted.
Aeleus glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s nearly time,” he said. “We should be on our way.”
Ienzo, who had been perched at the window looking curiously at the guests filing down the path visible below, nodded and got to his feet. Dilan went to the door, and placed his hand on the knob, but paused before turning it, and looked back at Even.
”It’s going to be fine,” he said. “Better than fine, I think. Just keep the point of the day in mind. The rest of it is irrelevant.”
”Yes…yes.” Even, who had been looking himself over one last time in the mirror, took a deep breath in, and slowly let it out. Though his fingers felt freezing, they didn’t ice over, and he considered that good enough.
Ienzo put a hand on his arm. “Are you ready?”
”I am,” Even said, ignoring how dry his mouth felt, and followed the three out the door and down the hall.
Later, when the sun had set and his nerves had long since left him, he would realize that his memories of the actual ceremony were somewhat spotty. The wait for his cue to walk down the aisle was a blur, and he’d needed to ball up his hands at his sides to keep from fiddling with his jacket cuffs or the leaves poking his scalp. The walk itself was similar, and he could only hope the shaking of his legs hadn’t seemed obvious as he’d made his way to the alter.
Lauriam’s entrance, however, would be forever burned into his mind. He looked radiant, the light pink of his suit complementing his hair and eyes, and the vivid colors of the flowers held in his hands were more than enough to draw the eye. There were ruffles at his cuffs and throat, and Even felt a brief sting of panic—did he look underdressed in comparison? Of course Lauriam had taken the opportunity to look as elegant as possible…
The panic melted away, however, at the sight of Lauriam’s smile. As soon as their gazes met, Lauriam’s lips curved and his eyes narrowed, forming that gentle, warm expression Even had grown to adore. Even continued to stare at that smile, the beautiful blue of Lauriam’s eyes, as Master Ansem recited welcomes and the customary words. He tried hard to focus only on Lauriam, but movement down the aisle caught his eye: Xion approached with the rings resting on a pillow, forget-me-nots in her hair and on her wrists. She caught his eye and grinned, which calmed him for a moment. He had been so relieved when she’d agreed to participate…she’d even seemed excited to do so, to his surprise and joy.
When she reached the altar, she proudly presented the rings to Master Ansem, who took them with a warm nod. She smiled at Lauriam, waved at Even with another encouraging smile, and then took her seat with her friends.
Even gave her a quick nod, but had to redirect his gaze at Lauriam, as looking directly into the audience was nerve-wracking—the crowd was full of supportive and familiar faces, but that many eyes on him made him want to hide behind the altar. The presence of several gummiphones, too, worried him. What if he made an absolute fool of himself? Would it be preserved forever? He thought he could see the top of a gummiphone peeking out of Elrena’s bouquet as she leaned to the side from her place just past Lauriam, and he hoped deeply that the flowers would block the view—
“Which of you would like to recite your vows first?”
Even realized the question was directed at the both of them, and started a little as he tried to mentally recover from his distraction, but Lauriam smoothly relieved him of the need to speak up.
”I’ll go,” he said, and his voice sounded enviously calm. He looked at Even over the bouquet and smiled again, his eyes soft. “Even, I know that this day is not something either of us would have anticipated when we first met. I can only express my deepest gratitude and joy that our former selves would have deemed such an event an impossibility, and been entirely wrong.”
Lauriam’s tone as he spoke was steady, familiar in its tranquility—something Even had once found grating and troublesome at best, now a cherished and beloved sound that anchored his attention. The sound of it filled his ears, and he felt himself slowly begin to relax, his hands warming slightly as his nerves lessened.
“For a time, I didn’t think joy or contentment were things I would ever be able to truly experience. But I’ve found them in your company. I’ve never been so happy as when you asked me to marry you,” Lauriam said. “Until now. I’m honored to be your partner in this life, and in whatever awaits after.“ He laid his hand on his chest. “My heart is with yours, now and always.”
Even found himself having to will away the sudden flush of heat in his cheeks and at the corners of his eyes as the audience ranged around the clapped and cheered. Master Ansem turned to look expectantly at Even, and without having to turn his head he could feel the gazes of the audience burning into him once more. Even cleared his throat and tried to begin his own vows.
”Lauriam,” he said, but his throat was dry again, and it came out unsteadily. “I—er, I…” He had practiced, multiple times, but now that the moment had arrived his mind, usually full of so many ideas and analyses, was strangely blank. He cleared his throat again and shoved a hand into his coat pocket, pulling out folded sheet of paper covered in his own handwriting. “P-pardon me.”
His hands were shaking, and it was obvious from how the paper was fluttering in his fingers—which were starting to turn white with frost. He pressed his lips together, trying to reign in his emotions, and felt a sudden warmth on his knuckles. The tips of Lauriam’s fingers rested gently on his, gentle but unwavering. Even glanced up from the paper, and the warmth in Lauriam’s eyes made his face grow hot once more, but the chill in his hands subsided a little, and he found he could breathe a little more steadily.
“Lauriam,” he read, “though I know all in attendance are familiar with my habit of expounding upon my subjects of interest, I must admit I struggled to write these vows. I hope you will forgive me my lack of poetry and allow me to be honest.” In the back of his mind he was extremely grateful he had taken Ienzo’s suggestion to write his speech out as a precaution. “I had never considered that I might one day participate in a ceremony such as this—never until you and I began to grow closer. Still, I considered it impossible. Even as the months went on and our lives intertwined, I could not help but imagine that you might eventually exit my life, perhaps wearying of my flaws, or desiring someone who might be able to spend more youthful years with you than I can offer.”
Even heard behind him a trio of quiet sighs, though there was a tinge of fondness to all of them. The slightly exasperated glance over his shoulder at the sound was instinctive, and he heard a ripple of laughter from the audience, but it was not unkind—he thought he recognized Xion’s laugh, and Isa’s.
“I will not carry on for too long,” he continued, focusing on the paper once more. “I merely wish to say that I have long taken great pride in being right. You have taught me, however, that there is sometimes a greater joy in being wrong. I am glad to have been wrong about the impossibility of this day. And I am far gladder to know that we shall spend our futures together.” He folded the paper and looked back up at Lauriam’s eyes. “However unpredictable it may be, there is one I would rather witness it with than you.”
Lauriam smiled broadly at him, and to Even’s surprise, he was sure he could see tears glinting in them. He squeezed Lauriam’s hand, but had no time to express concern, before applause filled the air once more, and Master Ansem nodded his head happily, clapping his own hands once together.
“Then,” he said, “let us mark the start of that entwined future. You may exchange rings.”
Lauriam took one of the rings from the pillow, and then tucked his bouquet into the crook of his elbow so he could slide it gently onto Even’s finger. “I offer this ring,” he said, “as a symbol of our everlasting vow.” He brushed his still-warm fingertips over the back of Even’s hand before letting go.
“Thank you.” Even took the remaining ring and repeated the words, his voice trembling a little. “I offer this ring, in turn, as a symbol of our everlasting vow.” He slid the ring up Lauriam’s finger, and was relieved to see that there was no trace of ice on his hands as he did so, though he was sure Lauriam could feel how his fingers shook. Still, Lauriam’s smile was broad and bright, and Even couldn’t help smiling back.
“Excellent,” Master Ansem said. “Let us commence with the pronouncement. Lauriam, do you take this man as your husband, until the end of your days?”
”I do,” Lauriam said, his voice clear and steady.
Another nod, and Master Ansem asked, “Even, do you take this man as your husband, until the end of your days?”
”I do,” Even said, and he was surprised to find the tremble was nearly gone.
“Then, I thus pronounce you officially married, in heart and mind. You may kiss—“
Perhaps it was nerves, or perhaps it was eagerness, but Even didn’t bother letting the sentence finish before reaching out for Lauriam. He stepped forward, and gave Lauriam just enough time to move the bouquet so it wouldn’t be crushed between them before looping an arm around his waist and bending down into a kiss.
Another ripple of laughter spread through the crowd as the applause picked up once again, but Even found it didn’t bother him at all. He cared only for the sheer joy surging through him as their lips met. He felt the corners of Lauriam’s mouth lift as he smiled into the kiss, making a hum of laughter only Even could hear over crowd, and knew it was a joy they would share, now and always.
