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Garroth had always dreamed about his ideal wedding day. He knew it was something his father would consider "unbecoming" of a future lord and man in general, but Garroth hadn't cared what Garte thought in years.
He had always dreamed of something beautiful, dreamlike in essence, just as how his mother would describe and reminisce about her wedding day when Garroth and his brothers were young.
"Cherry blossoms fell from the sky in a seemingly endless rain, flying past the fairy lights that hung from the stained glass," she had said. "Each window was a kaleidoscope of color, the murals inside capturing scenes of peace, bliss, and love. Millions of smiling people lined the rows, with flowers of every color you could imagine hanging from the pure white ribbons adorning the pews. A red velvet carpet covered in petals and gold dust showed the path to the altar at which your father was standing with the high priest, a stained glass window behind the both of them depicting Our Lady Irene. If you looked past the window you could see a grand Yggdrasil tree standing tall in the glorious sunlight, blessing our holy matrimony.
"Your father was dressed in the most regal, expensive lord garments money could buy, with cufflinks, buttons, and a cross necklace, all made of pure gold. He had pieces of armor here and there on his wedding suit, the light gleaming off them along with his dazzling smile. He looked so happy and loving in that moment.
"I, myself, was wearing the most beautiful wedding gown made of silk, with bright purple accents here and there, as if just to show off the wealth. I had a dainty, lace veil that neatly covered my face, with light gloves to match. There was a golden tiara and hairpin embedded in my braided locks. These were all gifts your father bought for me to show me his love. It was the happiest and most beautiful day of my life," Zianna would sigh happily, thinking of that perfect day. That was before she cheated on him. Before Garte changed.
Garroth, himself, had a few things he had always wanted in his own wedding, as silly as they may seem. A beautiful venue, expensive gifts for his love... though nothing nearly as luxurious as what Zianna would talk of. Garroth had never been one for excessively fancy things, always content with what he did have. Unfortunately, something he didn't have, on his wedding day of all days, was love for the woman he was about to marry. And that was the top thing on his list.
Garroth had only interacted with Nicole once, when Garte and her father had forced the two to stay in a room to "get to know each other." There hadn't been much conversation between them, with just the exchanging of pleasantries and names being all that was said that night. The rest of it had been spent in separate corners, with Garroth quietly examining the suits of armor that decorated the room he and his bride-to-be were trapped in. Much to Garroth's disappointment, none of the swords or other fancy weapons on display with the suits were real, or, at least, real enough for Garroth to use them to break out of the room.
He had attempted making further small talk with Nicole during the entrapment, but neither starting nor keeping conversation with others had ever been Garroth's strong suit. He had always been much better with a sword than he had ever been with words. It didn't help that Nicole didn't seem to like him much either, her face scowling every time he looked her way, whether she was looking at him or not. In this brief "interaction," Garroth hadn't really gained any feelings towards her except slight frustration and pity: frustration at her refusal to even attempt to talk with him; pity out of knowing that she was probably just as unhappy with this arrangement as he was.
Why did I even stay? Why didn't I leave? Why hasn't she? These were questions Garroth had asked himself over and over again since learning of the marriage. He had heavily considered running away, becoming a guard in a different village, and hiding away, but after thinking it over for days, he could only see more horrible things coming if he did leave rather than not. Besides, there was Zane to worry about, with his sick mind, power, and status. Garroth knew that, out of anyone, he was the one who had the best chance at ruining any harm Zane may try to cause. At least lordship would allow Garroth to keep O'kasis safe, even if it wasn't in the way he wanted.
And that's how he found himself standing there, in front of an altar. It was in the same church to Irene Zianna and Garte had been married in, though it was nowhere near the glamour Zianna had claimed took place on her special day. Perhaps the decorations, guests, and event were all the same, but the atmosphere was not. Well, at least, not for the "happy couple."
When Garroth managed to bring himself to look at the crowd, he noticed many peasants and common people were attending, which was slightly surprising to him. They all had hope and happiness in their eyes, though, from where, Garroth wasn't sure. Perhaps Garte and the lord of Scaleswind had told their people this was a marriage of pure love and choice. Perhaps the people of O'kasis were hopeful that Garroth would take rule of the city-state and undo all of Garte's evils. Either way, the eyes of the people watching him just made him squirm more. Looking away from them helped calm the nerves a bit.
The decorations spread across the church were similar to what Zianna had described them to be, though they weren't as bright or beautiful as she had said. They seemed to make him feel sorrow with each ribbon and flower he laid his eyes upon. If the circumstances were different, perhaps Garroth would've viewed the decor differently.
Even the sky seemed to reflect Garroth's glum mood as he looked across the floor, only for not a hint of the colorful windows throughout the building to be reflected onto any of the surfaces. Suddenly, however, a sound lifted Garroth's eyes from the ground with a startled jump: the sound of an organ being played echoing across the interior.
Garroth followed the path that the carpet laid on the ground made until his glance crossed a mass of white. He looked up until he saw Nicole's face, or, at least, where her face would be. Instead of eyes and what would most likely be a scowl, there was just a veil, completely shrouding her face. The dress was a very traditional one, perhaps courtesy of Zianna, with a poofy skirt and tight corset. The sleeves were long, with the top of it being puffy. A pattern of flowers, birds, and more covered the entire gown, with gold and pink accents scattered across it.
She walked down the aisle quietly and petitely, not taking much time. It took Garroth a second to realize her father wasn't accompanying her to the altar, contrary to what he'd heard was tradition. He suspected it had to do with this marriage being forced. She stopped and stood before Garroth, not saying a word, keeping as much distance as possible from her soon-to-be husband.
The "couple" stood quietly as Zane read off the necessary ritual words of a matrimonial ceremony. Garroth couldn't help but hear the smugness in his younger brother's voice as he read through the marital book before him.
"Do you, Garroth Ro'meave, take Nicole Von Ronsenburg to be your lawfully wedded wife, 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?" Zane sounded especially self-satisfied as he read through the vows, giving Garroth a sickly gleeful look as he did so.
Garroth bit his tongue, glancing at his parents as he stood there. Garte was nodding, pleased with himself and seemingly hopeful his son would make the "right" decision. Zianna wasn't even looking his way, an expression of guilt on her face. Garroth finally gulped down his doubt and regretfully said the two words that would get this over with quicker: "I do."
He could feel Zane smirk wickedly from under his mask as he continued. "And do you, Nicole Von Ronsenburg, take Garroth Ro'meave to be your lawfully wedded 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?"
"I do," she said quietly.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," Zane said, sending Garroth a taunting look. "You may now kiss the bride."
At first, neither Garroth nor Nicole made a move. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence and a deep breath, Garroth carefully politely pulled up Nicole's veil, revealing the makeup the servants had dressed her in and her unhappy expression. They shared glances before Garroth briskly kissed her on the lips, attempting to hold contact for as little as possible. Nicole pulled down her veil as soon as he pulled away, the crowd cheering. The newlyweds stood there awkwardly for a few seconds they finally walked away from the altar and out of the church. And just like that, the matrimonial ceremony was over.
...
During the after-party, Garroth and Nicole stayed as far away from each other as they could, each avoiding the other as much as possible. While Nicole seemed to have friends and family to keep her company, Garroth only had one person he needed to talk to.
"Father," he called out, his voice cold yet hushed. He didn't want to cause a scene, at least, not yet.
"Ah," Garte said proudly, "Garroth, my boy! How is your first taste of married life?"
Garroth couldn't help but glare at his father's comment. "You know damn well what I want to talk to you about. Don't try to avoid it like the coward you are." He narrowed his eyes at Garte, crossing his arms, making it clear he wouldn't budge until Garte talked to him.
Garte gave an exasperated sigh. "Straight to business already, Garroth? I thought I taught you better than that, son-"
"Don't 'son' me! You haven't been a father to me since your entire power spiral! What real father throws his children and their dreams away for power and his own selfish gain!? No. You know the real reason I'm even still in this forsaken village." Garroth glared daggers through his father, awaiting his response. Luckily, Zianna wasn't nearby to try and make the two stubborn men compromise. Garroth wouldn't compromise with this.
"Ugh... so. You want lordship. And what made you think I would just give it to you as soon as you married? I was lord before I even met your mother! Really, boy, you should've thought-"
"If you're unwilling to give it up the way you promised, I am more than willing to raise my sword against you." Garroth quietly put his hand on the hilt of the sword he had sheathed to his belt, the weapon concealed under his wedding jacket. Garte's eyes immediately darted to the sword, an amused look consuming his face.
"You really plan to kill me? Why not do it from the start, then?"
Garroth gave his father a frustrated look. "You raised me with honor. You sent me to the guard academy, for Irene's sake! It's a guard's job to protect a lord, and those morals stand strong within any true guard. Plus, as much as you are no longer my father, I was still hoping there was something left of the honorable man I once knew who would KEEP his promises. If I were less honorable, you would be dead by now." Garroth paused for a moment, considering if there was anything else he wanted to say, even if it was selfish. A thought immediately came to him. "Besides, this marriage puts me in a better position to be lord. Now..." he tightened his grip on his hilt, "will you stand down and live up to your promise, old man? Or will I have to put you in your place?"
"My oh my, Garroth," Garte said, his tone more amused than before, "you're more than I thought you were... Never expected anything like this from you... Zane, perhaps, but never you, Golden Boy." Garroth narrowed his eyes at the nickname.
"Fine. I'll entertain your 'offer,' boy. Meet me in the throne room tomorrow... unless... you'd prefer to make a spectacle out of it?" Garte gave Garroth a twisted, sickening smile, one that reminded him of Zane.
"The throne room is fine. I'll see you tomorrow." Garroth turned his back on Garte in an instant, leaving the psychotic leader to his own devices and the reception. No one seemed to notice, however.
...
"REALLY!? DIRTY PLAY LIKE THIS!?" Garroth was seething with rage as he entered the throne room, dragging the body of an assassin behind him. Most mornings, he was left to his own devices, but this one had been to the sound of metal on metal and the smell of iron. It had only been thanks to his training and tendency to keep a sword at his side that he wasn't the one being dragged out instead.
There was Garte, sitting on the throne. He looked upset and disappointed upon seeing Garroth's lively entrance, especially when he caught a glance of his former mercenary.
"Can't find good help anywhere anymore," Garte grumbled under his breath, soon turning his attention to his son. "Well then. We're both here now. Let's get over with."
"Gladly..." Garroth breathed, hand on sword.
The two men stood there for seconds, one waiting to see what the other's first move would be. Eventually, Garroth would be the first to attack, jumping into the air, sword raised. Garte easily jumped out of the way, pulling out a sword of his own and going at his son, though the attack would be in vain as Garroth jumped back to dodge. Soon enough, the duo had swords clashing, scraping against each other, small sparks flying off. As the pair clashed, most moves being parried between the two, Garte managed to get a lucky hit, making Garroth go slightly off-balance, allowing him to push his son away. As he raised his sword in an attempt to land a fatal blow, Garroth punched his father straight in the stomach, forcing Garte back in pain, with Garroth slashing his sword out of his hand in his vulnerable state. In a completely helpless state, Garroth finally gave the finishing blow, slicing his father's head off in one precise strike. And just like that, between father and son, son left victorious. The old bag had never stood a chance in the first place.
...
The news of Lord Garte's death by Garroth's hand spread quickly. Some rejoiced, others feared. Nicole was indifferent, yet never found herself quite comfortable in her husband's presence. The two had discussed divorce, however, event after event stacked up, what with the villages combining, the expectations as a married couple, and the birth of their two daughters. Now if they were to divorce, they had to deal with the new village of Steele, the social scorn, and how all of that would affect Haven and Cherish, so they settled with staying tolerantly married. Despite the births of her granddaughters, Lady Ro'meave completely retreated from any and all functions, rumored to have been consumed by the grief of all that had happened.
The Jury of Nine was soon disbanded with the rise of Steele, and Zane banished from the village, replaced as the head priest of Irene's religion. The younger Ro'meave vowed his revenge against his brother, no matter the cost, and formed a rebellion of terrorists. One day, they will rise to bring Steele and Garroth's fall.
Garroth, himself, never quite seemed the same to those who once knew him. His smiles and care for human life had been replaced with solemn looks and the consistent consideration of "necessary sacrifices." Whether he was a better lord or not was split, depending on who you asked. But one thing was for sure: it was unlike anyone had expected.
...
The tiny, pathetic village of Phoenix Drop would fall into complete ruin after the loss of its lord. Zenix soon attacked everyone there, and everyone left fled. No one to come and no one came. The village once known as Phoenix Drop was now a bloodstained ruin of its former self.
Bright Port would meet a similar fate to Phoenix Drop, with Lord Burt going missing to strengthen the Shadow Lord, people slowly losing their memories, and the attack of werewolves, along with an attack from Zane's rebellion that took the village over.
The village of Meteli got caught in a cycle of conflict. Cadenza went missing without a trace except for a few red feathers, leaving Laurance even more distraught with all that had happened with Sasha, Joh, and the political tensions between Hayden and Kenmur. Kenmur and Hayden would never end up getting along, with Hayden winning lordship but losing any compassion he was willing to show others after the mysterious, unexplained disappearance of his adoptive daughter. Castor would be captured by the Shadow Knights and drained of his energy for the Shadow Lord. Laurance would stay head guard of Meteli and never become a Shadow Knight, though he would never be happy.
And Vylad... he would continue watching over Garroth, Zane, and Zianna, looking for a day to properly use Hyria's gift. Until then, however, this world is likely doomed to never be blessed by Irene's touch again...