Faction Wedding of Lady Athlea and Diarch Rellik (DIA & Friends)

[Judah Dashiell]

"Thank you. Don't worry, I only know the bride, so I doubt anyone will be asking of my attention for this evening. I will stay glued to you like a geriatric body guard."

Judah chuckled at his own self deprecation as they walked up the drive. As they did, he was reflecting on Liin Terallo 's words of having a wedding so large and such a spectacle. Having just come from one from the Commonwealth, Judah bemused it must be symbolic wedding season. Lucky for him none close in his circle were planning on getting married, so he could be a spectator rather than participant.

"I agree to a point. My ex-wife and I got married on the beach. Just us. We didn't have the credits for anything big and she was pregnant, so a bit of haste there so my Ma didn't kill me." A shake of his head. "My eldest son was married in a greenhouse - decorative one - in a private ceremony with just close friends and family. I think that was a nice compromise."

A pause as they moved closer to the mansion, eyes taking in where the main entrance was. A small group was assembled there, stragglers like themselves before the ceremony started.

"Given who the Diarch is...I am not surprised. I think these things are supposed to be a symbol of strength. A show of stability. However, I do agree with you that is is quite dangerous. A balancing act, I suppose? Given the need to invite outsiders but also worried someone could use that opportunity for something nefarious."

A small shrug.

"I'm sure we passed at least four snipers in the bushes on the walk up, so I would suspect they are prepared." Head turned to look at Miss Terrallo. "Do you wish to wed someday? Or do you find the entire institution a prison?

 

[Zaytee]

Walking across the open entrance of the estate, Zaytee's body stayed stiff, her steps mechanic, and her arms tightly gripped Viari's arm next to her, trying to keep up with the Rishii's bigger steps, while she anxiously glanced at every reflective surface around them. She touched her hair again and again, hoping to keep it the way she had worked so hard to achieve, and made sure that the little flowercrown on her head stood straight too, not losing any petals on their way, while her tail anxiously moved back and forth behind her.

All this celebratory attire with the long skirt that hid most of her light green tail and robe that was always in the way of her arms were definitely out of her usual style... She was used to pants, less formal, but more favourable clothings that she didn't hesitate to get dirty for a second... But a wedding like this probably worth the effort of dressing up all nice and pretty.

After all, this was their dear Diarch's wedding. It was the start of something new in the life of someone all of them loved and respected, and they felt honored to get an invitation to this big event.

"Are you sure it looks good? I feel like a scarecrow..." She muttered to the giant bird next to her, her fingers brushing out imaginary knots from the end of her hair. "And my skirt? Should I tuck in my tail? What if the bride falls over it?"

Viari Banu

 

[Liin Terallo]

His question settled into me more deeply than I expected it to. Do I wish to wed someday? For a moment I watch the lanternlight tremble against the stone facade ahead of us. I have spent years disentangling myself from narratives others were eager to write on my own behalf. “I do not believe marriage is a prison,” I respond quietly. “Not when it is chosen freely.”

I pause for a moment while I delve into a bit of quiet reflection before continuing. “When I was younger, I did imagine it differently. Being romanced. Being… deliberately chosen. Swept off one’s feet in some grand, improbable fashion.” I allow myself a small, self-aware smile. “It is a pleasant dream. One that rarely survives contact with politics, expectation, or convenience. I left a great deal behind because people seemed more invested in constructing love stories for me than allowing me to live one - or not live one - on my own terms.” There it was. My answer to him was both honest and controlled.

“I would not call marriage a prison,” I added after a quiet beat. “But I have no desire to become someone’s ornament. Or rumor.” Then, because I will not let the mood to grow too heavy, I added with a small smile: “But should some theatrical soul attempt to sweep me off my feet this evening, I trust my geriatric bodyguard will ensure that his intentions are rigorously vetted.”

Tag: Judah Dashiell