502-09-18 Duchess Asha weds Tairell Flint
From Crossroads Wiki
It is an unusually hot day upon Gateway Isle as Duchess Asha takes to husband Legionnaire Tairell Flint. The fighting is bloody, the drink flows freely, and the guests sweat a lot.
The Coliseum is done up in shades of crimson, bronze, and black, drapes of fabric in those colors softening the hard stone. In the center of the coliseum sits a large platform of stone in every color that appears on Guardian, stone steps leading up to it. At the back of a platform is a softly glowing forge, in front of which sits a pair of wedding cuffs - cold iron cunningly worked with the shapes of lions and set with large, rare rubies and black diamonds. The torque of the Duke of Guardian lies next to it.
The forge is flanked by a pair of potted olive trees, and a sword of Stavros construction - worked pricelessly from meteor metal in the fashion of cold iron - stands in the soil of each, practically leather-wrapped hilts topped with bloodstone pommels.
Before the platform, rows of chairs and benches have been arrayed for the court and relatives, though the seating of the Coliseum itself is open for spectators as well. More drapes of fabric decorate benches and chairs, brightening the space.
Behind the platform, the rest of the Coliseum is taken up by high-ceilinged tents of crimson and bronze silk, lit by flickering torches. Tables are laden with Guardian foods - beef, mutton, mushrooms, olives, and innumerable small fowl augmented by Green Fields produce - and kegs of ale both Guardian and Green Fields. Jugs of Warrior's Milk are stacked high, and a dance floor has been staged and manned with Guardian musicians.
"Hey, what?" Marcus asks, surprised. "They have switched the order? Where is the fun in that?" he finishes in a grumble, before giving Deuce a smirk. He then winks to Rourke. "Alright, but only as a favor to Your Majesty." To Anna, he gives a nod. "True, that. No rope swinging antics and 'Tally ho's. Not in public, at least." His dark eyes twinkle with rare mischief.
With her own escort of Imperial Knights, the Empress walks down the path from the courtyard. In one hand is a small fan that she waves in front of herself to try to keep herself cool on this hazy and hot day.
Deuce murmurs again, still quietly, and this time smirking back, "The fun is in the anticipation. The more you must anticipate the better the reward when it *does* appear." He bows again to the Empress as she appears.
Rourke grins a bit more at Marcus's quip. "I am honored by your indulgence, Marquis," he deadpans. The arrival of knights and empress draw his regard, and he turns to face her. "Empress," he greets her formally with an inclination of his head, and he proffers his hand towards her.
"Tell me how you're getting revenge, and I might be swayed." Phineas speaks tersely to Aileana, escorting her along in a protective fashion.
Mena does pause in her steps to curtsey respectfully toward the Emperor before continuing her progress toward him. Once there, her hand takes his proffered one with a smile. "Good afternoon, Your Majesty." She then inclines her head to the others as well. "Highness, Marquis. Deputy McKinna."
Aileana leans towards Phineas and whispers to him, a smile playing on her lips though she does pause in her speech to curtsey to the nobility, "Good afternoon. Such a beautiful day to watch a wedding."
Annabelle dips into a curtsey when she sees Mena make her way on along to the coliseum, a smile extended from Mena to Aileana and Phineas also. "Good afternoon, Majesty, Your Grace, Phineas." She can't help but take an additional peek to see if a nanny's trailing with three little bebe's. "How are you all?" Idly she lifts up her hand to shield her eye from the bright light of the sun, and wishfully its heat also."
Deuce raises a brow at the remark Phineas makes and Aileana's whispers but makes no more than the usual bow. He smiles politely to all and manages the amazing feat of being nearly invisible in the crowd.
Marcus flourishes an exaggerated courtier's bow to Rourke's retort, but as the people start arriving, he drops the playfulness, bowing formally to Mena. "Your Majesty." Another bow to Aileana. "Your Grace." Phineas is ignored. Despite the heat, Marcus has added to his wardrobe: his knuckles are covered by padded leather bands.
There are no nannies or babies trailing Mena this afternoon. All she has is a fan out in her free hand, waving in front of her face to try to keep her cool. "Hello, Your Grace! Hello, Phineas!" she calls from where she stands next to Rourke. And hey! She looks rather awake and alert to the world around her.
Well, look what the cat dragged in. Arriving just in time for his sister's wedding, one Baron Philip approaches the coliseum, looking around as he remembers how to navigate around this isle.
Rourke lifts Mena's hand to press his lips to the back of it before he releases it. He looks to the arriving Aileana and Phineas, inclining his head for the pair with a grin. "Your Grace. Phineas. Saw the frigid Forester about recently." He chuckles. Attention goes past them towards Philip, a brow lifting. "Today is a day for ghosts to return. One duchess gets married and look who all falls out of the woodwork."
Phineas essays a deep bow to the people present, a dark smirk crossing his lips at the lack of response from Marcus. "Majesties. Princess, you look radiant. And it is so good to see you, Marquis Barca," he drawls lazily as he straightens. He eyes Aileana and answers her whisper with, "I'm unconvinced." That's all the pause that takes place as he guides her towards the stands, unless Aileana is determined to stay and chat.
Philip chuckles at Rourke's comments, offering a deep bow. "I figured it was a good time to return, Your Majesty. I've been meaning to get back here for some time. My sister merely provided the impetus."
Aileana smiles to Mena, "Good afternoon. You look splendid, as always." She then looks to Phineas and nods, "Shall we? I feel the need to rest..so tired today...and just don't know why." Her lips then turn a bit impish.
Deuce watches Mena with careful speculation glinting in his eyes, but the arrival of Philip distracts his attention. Now both brows rise in concert at the appearance of the prodigal son, so to speak, the query in his eyes perhaps lightly touching upon Philip's ability to navigate the world in a more efficient manner.
Annabelle looks just about floored, but in a good way, as she sees her brother Philip make his way towards the coliseum. Her eyes widen and her jaw near slackens in the surprise of that moment. "Philip! Goodness... it's -so good- to see you!" Her eyes do flick briefly to Aileana and Phineas for Finn's last remark, but seeing Philip is enough of a distraction to draw her back to him. He's intercepted for a hug, "How -are- you? Look Marcus who came to Gateway!"
"I'm going to go sit down," Mena tells Rourke, giving him a smile. "If that's okay?"
Phineas glances sidelong at his wife, his smirk remaining in place as he walks to the observation area.
Philip's eyes are drawn to another sister of his. "Anna! Er, Highness! You didn't tell me! I'm going to be an uncle?"
"Were it up to me, kinslayer, you would be barred from this happy occasion." Marcus retorts coldly to Phineas, not bothering to hide his enmity. And speaking of kin... "Philip! You made it!" It is amazing how fast Marcus' expression shifts from winter's cold to summer's sun. He steps forward, grabbing both Philip and Anna in a grouphug. Gentle one, given Anna's condition.
Lord Barca the elder enters the area, looking resplendent in his dress whites. He looks around him at the assembled nobles and guests, bowing to the Emperor and Empress, then to the Princess, then the Duchesses, et cetera.
Rourke nods to Mena. "Of course. Unless you want to perform the ceremony," he offers, a hand scrubbing at his slightly damp hair again. The heat isn't treating him so well in the formal garb.
Annabelle laughs and oofs slightly as she's squished into a hug sandwich with Marcus and Philip both, perhaps even joined by Adrian as he joins, "You are! In about.... maybe three and a half months." A grin spreads across Anna's face, though in truth it never truly left. "When did you get here? Are you staying long?"
Making his way in rather unobtrusively, the Baron of Moonshadow represents the Isle of Mists, it would seem. He too offers his bows to those in positions of leadership.
Mena chuckles and shakes her head. "No, I think I'm fine. But do you want me to sit here and fan you?" she asks, grinning a bit and waving the fan in front of Rourke's face. "Your whim is my command and all of that."
Rourke closes his eyes to be fanned by Mena, but not before he catches sight of Adrian. He lifts his hand to aim a wave at the man, accompanied by a call of, "You're blinding me, Lord Adrian!" He chuckles at his wife. "I like this whim, command thing. Clearly I've got the right job."
"Clearly," Mena agrees with amusement, fanning both herself and Rourke, at least for the moment. "But, it probably wouldn't look so good during the wedding, hmm? You can just borrow the fan if you want." It's pretty, and matches her dress!
Philip nods to Annabelle. "I arrived earlier today. Everyone has been too busy to notice me moving back in to my old room," he chuckles. "And I plan on remaining here for some time, now. Perhaps trying to make myself useful as well."
Deuce observes the royal scene and suddenly rolls his eyes and slaps his forehead as if hoping to shake his mind into something more resembling intelligence than idiocy. This is accomplished quietly and without fanfare while he performs his own bows to everyone of higher station, while still carefully preserving his status of an object of no apparent interest.
Marcus inclines his head to Drake in acknowledgement of the bow, as he hardly can bow while hugging Anna and Philip. He then pulls back, giving each aforementioned a squeeze on the shoulder, before moving to intercept Adrian. "Adrian." he greets with a faint smile, offering his hand.
"That's -wonderful- to hear. We'll have to catch up some time... so much to catch up on!" Annabelle replies with a grin to Philip, afterwards prising herself from the group hug just so that she has room to move in. It's in that moment that she notices Adrian. "Adrian! Have you seen Philip's back?" A moment later she catches sight of Mena fanning Rourke and grins yet again. "Ahhh, a fan! Now there was a moment of genius... I should have thought of such a thing also. How are you, your Majesty? It's good to seeing you looking so well," the latter addressed more to Mena.
Drake returns the nod to Marcus. "Good day to you, Marquis Barca. This is a joyous day indeed."
Adrian takers the proffered hand firmly, grinning at his brother. "Marcus, it has been a while. Good to see you, brother, and welcome."
"I am great," Mena says with a smile toward Annabelle. "I feel great. But I suppose I should really go sit down and get out of the way for the wedding." And she's taking her fan with her! She gives her husband a smile. "Good luck." And then she's off toward the seating.
Glyph enters the Coliseum hoping not to be too late. Her harlequin gaze shifting a moment over her shoulder with a troubled look before shaking her head. A smile touches her lips while she sweeps into a curtsey to all the noblity and royality in the area. She tries to slip unnoticed to the seats.
Philip nods wiht a smile to Anna, also offering a grin to Adrian and nod to Marcus.
Drake glances to the newly arrived Prince, and smiles. "Prince Rosier. Welcome, friend."
Adrian offers a low bow to Tairell, in anticipation of his elevation in rank. "Welcome, Duke Consort, and Providence bless your union this day."
Rosier stops to bow, an amusement clinging to his features that he just doesn't shake as he offers his respects to the royals and nobles of Gateway. He turns, giving a wide smile to Drake. "Baron. Good to see you again." And then he's off to find a seat.
Deuce steps forward and offers Annabelle a fan. It is a most exquisite fan, though the ends seem a bit...metallic. "I would be honored to share this with you. I have more for practice and so will not miss this one." What in the world that might mean is left to the uninitiated, and why a deputy would have a *fan* is probably something not to be studied with too much diligence.
Tairell enters alone. He walks into the coliseum until he draws near the emperor, then bows deep and formal to honor the nobility and royalty. "Majesty." It is secondary to acknowledge everyone else, but the welcome of Adrian is the first responded to. "Lord Barca. Thank you." He keeps words to a minimum, as a man conserving his strength for battle to come.
Philip looks around, inventorying the wide variety of titles among his siblings. A Duchess. A Princess. A Marquis. Then he heads in to grab a seat.
From Coliseum Entrance - Coliseum, Marcus nods, slapping Adrian's shoulder in camaredie. "We need to sit down and exchange news at some point. But come, Philip is here too. We are only missing lucky from the full cavalcade of brothers. Hope the groom brought some family and friends with him, or Asha will have to play a nurse during her wedding night." he grins faintly. Another nod to Drake. "Indeed." And then his gaze turns to Tairell. "This is the groom, then... Duke Consort." He gives a polite, yet shallow bow. "Marquis Marcus Barca." His knuckles are covered with padded leather bands. Looks like he takes the Guardian traditions sseriously.
From Coliseum Entrance - Coliseum, "May I come with you, Majesty? I could do with a seat also... " Annabelle replies, flicking a bit of a grin towards Rourke in the moment. "oh, Prince Rosier... good afternoon," she says, having caught his name and guessed at whom he is, then, "Oh, and Duke Consort... a good afternoon to you also.."
Aileana and Phineas are sitting next to each other..more like Aileana stuck to her husband's side as teh pair cuddles to watch the ceremony...likely imagining her own wedding that was rained right off of the beach!
From the field, Marcus nods, slapping Adrian's shoulder in camaredie. "We need to sit down and exchange news at some point. But come, Philip is here too. We are only missing lucky from the full cavalcade of brothers. Hope the groom brought some family and friends with him, or Asha will have to play a nurse during her wedding night." he grins faintly. Another nod to Drake. "Indeed." And then his gaze turns to Tairell. "This is the groom, then... Duke Consort." He gives a polite, yet shallow bow. "Marquis Marcus Barca." His knuckles are covered with padded leather bands. Looks like he takes the Guardian traditions sseriously. (repose)
Glyph dips into a graceful and elegant curtsey to the Duchess and Phineas. A pleasant smile on her lips while she climbs up the benches to the take a seat down off to the side. A hand smoothing out her skirts while her feet twiddle togather.
From the field, Rourke eyes the precise bow of the soon-to-be duke, inclining his head in turn. "Duke Consort. I was wondering if you'd show up." His eyes hold some humor as he looks towards the platform and gestures to it. "Shall we?"
Annabelle makes her way on over to sit somewhere near Mena, accompanied by her trailing Knight. "Majesty," she murmurs once again softly, taking some care to sit down.
Mena smiles at Annabelle, inclining her head to the Princess. She keeps waving that fan in front of her face. "It's so /hot/ today, isn't it?"
From the field, Tairell turns to Marcus. "Marquis. I had hoped to meet you prior to this occasion." He sees the leather bands, and the only registration on his face is a bare smile of satisfaction. "I'm sure we'll speak more later."
Phineas steals one long look at his little sister, nodding to himself. He returns to the soft conversation with Aileana.
"Searingly," Annabelle replies with a smile; one benefit to sitting near Mena right now is that she might catch a small whisper of wind from her own fanning exercises. "I was just saying earlier that I hope the seats aren't too hot, or I shall end up with grilled behind after this. That said, I shan't wish upon us the winter to rid us of the heat..."
Aileana nods to Glyph though she is soon whispering to her husband again.
Deuce settles himself down on a bench occupied by those closer to him in station, everyone nearby speaking in tones that begin uproarilessly and proceed to slide into a certain quietude as the events proceed, though doubtless full silence will never achieve its fullest victory.
Mena chuckles and shakes her head. "No, I much prefer the summer as well. You just make sure you don't get yourself too hot. Or have someone bring you some water or something. I should have thought of that too," she muses, fanfanfanning herself.
From the field, "Likewise, Duke Consort." Marcus smiles faintly. "And I am sure we will, after Asha lets you leave the bed."
From the field, The tramp of hobnailed boots is the first indication of the Duchess' arrival. Soon, the flash of the hot sun on leather and brass, and the brightness of crimson capes warns of the escort of a squad of legionnaires in full dress uniform, armed and armored as they flank and follow the Duchess. Asha herself fairly sparkles in crimson and cloth of bronze, the hot sunlight striking sparks from the fabric and the rich gems set upon it. Nothing occupies her hands, but she stands tall, chin up, and though there's a nervous cast to her smile, she smiles all the same, gaze set on the platform ahead.
Phineas smirks at Aileana and answers her with a dry laugh. "What care I?" He turns attention towards the wedding's progress, or hopeful progress. "Does she have the dog with her?"
Rosier seems unaffected by the heat of the day, sitting a bit away from everyone else with a big stupid grin on his face.
From the field, Adrian snorts faintly at Marcus' remark. "That is a large assumption, brother." He smirks, half whispering.
Glyph takes a glance around the stands. Her mismatched gaze lingering longer on some than other, before casting down below. Her fingers toy with a lock of hair in her nimble fingers.
From the field, Rourke turns as the stomping and sparkling legions and duchess arrive, his hand surreptitiously lifting with a kerchief to mop at his brow as they claim the attention of most people. The kerchief is tucked away and he takes his place for the ceremony.
"I'm sure I'll be just fine," Annabelle remarks as she sits quietly now, observing the going's on below and the banter between siblings. "I'm looking forwards to seeing how things go actually. I think Marcus is aching to keep alive ancient traditions..." a smirk appears across her face.
From the field, "I am a patient man, brother." Marcus replies softly to Adrian, before canning the rest of quips as Asha arrives. Alright. Now comes the dignified part before the brawl...
Aileana looks down at the field, dropping her conversation for now as she watches everything take place.
From the field, Tairell pivots precisely and links his hands behind himself. It is practically at attention that he stands, and yet a smile forces its way onto his features when he sees Asha. His gaze locks upon her and the soldiers behind her with pride. There is no trace of nervousness to him.
Phineas sighs. "No dog. She should have brought the dog."
Leaning to the side for a moment as Deuce whispers something in her ear, Annabelle then takes possession of a fan, gratefully accepted. "Thank you so much! That's very kind of you..." her words are spoken softly, possibly missed by anyone not hear ner. Fan accepted however, she opens it and starts to create her own little artificially made breezes, oh so refreshing.
"I'm sure it will be just lovely," Mena assures Annabelle, then offers the woman her fan. "Here. I want you to take this. You need it more than I, and before you say no, I absolutely insist."
"Or not!" Mena says, noting the fan Annabelle does have. "Nevermind then," she adds with an easy smile, going back to fanning herself.
Rosier watches the display on the field, the amusement on his features not fading for a second.
Ah, but Annabelle seems to have been offered one just moments before hand and her own now she shows to Mena. "A kind donation, gratefully received... but thank you, Majesty. Now we shall both rest more comfortable on this stifling day." She smiles warmly at her, then looks back down to the proceedings below and grows quiet.
From the field, Lord Adrian does indeed quiet down, his smile turning into something more anticipatory as he awaits the start of the ceremony.
From the field, As the legionnaires array themselves across the entry - effectively blocking any would-be escape - Asha flickers a glance towards the stands and the seats on the ground, smile easing at the sight of her siblings. With a deep breath, she gathers herself, pushing away the nerves, and, with some effort to modulate her usual martial strides, begins the stately walk towards the platform. Once there, she curtseys towards the Emperor, smile faint. "Your majesty," she murmurs, then looks to Tairell, the last of the nervousness fleeing in a broad smile.
Deuce returns to his seat, having briefly left it for the donation, and he proceeds to list everyone else that he knows or might distantly recognize with his eyes, acknowledging this or that one with a lift of a brow, a smile and a nod, continuing on to his former seat.
Phineas glances at Deuce and gives a slight nod to the man, cheerful in a way.
"Maybe the dog is mischievous." Aileana replies as she rests her head on Phineas's shoulder to just watch the ceremony, "I loved having dogs at our wedding though." They were so sweet."
"Odd, I think," Rosier comments loud enough to be heard, but not to anyone specifically. "How the groom has so much heavy magic upon him. I thought he was from Guardian. They aren't mages there, from what I understand."
From the field, Tairell meets Asha's look and speaks quietly to her.
Beads of sweat flying off his brow, cloak billowing out behind him, Memnoch quickly yet adroitly weaves his way throughout the gathered crowds, heading upwards to the higher observation stands. In one hand he grips his black cane, holding it in the air as he jogs along in search of an empty seat; in the opposing hand lies a half-eaten apple. His black-ringed eyes alternately flit from the crowds around him to the coliseum field, then back again, ad infinitum.
Annabelle's gaze is drawn instantly to Rosier as he says such a thing as that, then to Mena. Before speaking though she waits to see if Mena is going to say anything first. A question itches at her lips however.
Aileana's gaze snaps to Rosier at his comment, "Illusion..magic?" Her brows then lift a bit skeptically as she starts to scrutinize the groom now.
Mena just keeps fanning herself. She does glance toward the Kheleki Prince, but makes no comment to him. Nope. She's watching the wedding. Yes she is.
From the field, Baron Moonshadow looks around him with some distaste. His austere black garb seems to be soaking up the heat like lodestone a piece of metal. He raises his hands in an almost helpless gesture, though his fingers move against each other, and his lips move in a silent whisper. A shimmer above the wedding party and guests might catch the attention of the perceptive, and a fine mist of cool, breezy turbulence cools the temperature for all, eliminating part of the haze that rises from the coliseum floor.
Deuce does not seem at all surprised by Rosier's tactless statement and ignores it. If others glance to the Kheleki with frowns of varying degrees, it *is* a wedding and will be forgotten in a moment...by most.
From the field, Rourke nods once to Asha's curtsey, and if he's smirking when the escape is blocked, it's covered quickly by a grin. He draws a breath and pitches the traditional verbage to carry well. "We are all gathered here today in the sight of man and Providence to witness the union of these two people: Duchess Asha Barca and Centurion Tairell Flint." He pauses to let the words roll along, or else to remember the appropriate words. It's hard to memorize all these different ceremonial things.
Duchess Aileana immediately looks to Phineas and whispers to him with some sort of urgency now.
"Oh, no. Nothing as simple as illusion," Rosier answers Aileana. "Nothing a simple dispel would uncover. Something much deeper than that. Indeed." He grins widely, watching the proceedings as well. "What an interesting wedding."
Phineas tilts his head towards his wife and arches a brow. "So it seems," he answers her soft words with dry ones.
Annabelle continues to stare at Rosier for some moments, though still keeps her peace for now at Mena's own silence. After some clear internal wrestling she diverts her attention back to the wedding, which she watches then with quite some interest, and remains silent.
Aileana just looks annoyed now..annoyed annoyed, "I see. This is ludicrous."
From the field, Marcus is sweating in his black garb as well, but he doesn't seem to mind. Better heat than sleet, that is what he says. And now he is in his proper place, witnessing the marriage of another of his sisters. Sniff.
A flicker of amusement curls up on Glyph's full lips and eyes at Rosier's comment. A hand reaches up to hide the smile and a small clearing of her throat occurs. Her eyes of blue and black study Rosier for a moment, before turning down to those in the field.
Phineas pats Aileana's shoulder. "Implications, my love. Implications," he drawls.
From the field, Asha dissolves into a wide smile at Tairell's murmured words, reaching out to take his hands with a mouthed 'thank you' as Rourke begins the ceremony. The smile falters for a second, some amusement in her expression, before she clears her throat and collects herself again. Behind Rourke, near the forge, an elderly smith sits in a wheeled chair, alternating between watching patiently and looking as though he's about to doze off in the heat.
Aileana rolls her eyes now, "This makes me ill." She folds her arms across her chest and just glares down at the ceremony, "Ill."
Memnoch, having found an empty seat amongst a random collection of commoners, carefully sets himself down. Setting his cane in between his thighs, he takes a large bite from his apple, half-shut eyes watching the wedding proceedings with only a modicum of interest.
Philip sits quietly observing the conversation and the ceremony, trying to mentally catch up with all the goings on. Hearing the Green Fields duchess refer to being ill, he scoots away from anywhere she might get sick on him.
Mena clears her throat without looking away from the ceremony. "Unless anyone is going to stand up and object to this union, let's have a little respect," she drawls as she fans herself.
"I'm thinking about it, actually." Aileana replies though soon goes back to glaring.
Rosier just chuckles and falls silent again to watch with his amusement unfading.
From the field, Tairell wraps his fingers with Asha's and squeezes hers once. He waits with patience as if not noticing the heat despite the layers of clothing. It is an annoyance not to be noticed. He glances warily about at the mist that settles before looking to the emperor seriously.
From the field, The Emperor gives an almost audible sigh of relief with the coolness. He flashes a look at Asha before he voices a brief bit of Gateway's traditional wordings. "Do you, Centurion Tairell Flint, agree to take on the full responsibilities and privileges of marriage to this woman which include but are not limited to loving, honoring, protecting, supporting, caring for and cherishing her? Do you vow from this day forward to faithfully serve Guardians as a united couple and leaders of the population of the Duchy?"
Glyph bites her lower lip at the Empress words. A quiet cough is given to smooth her features and any other reaction she may have. Her toes nuding togather, while her attention towards the wedding. She's never seen a Guardian wedding before and is clearly curious.
Phineas leans closer to his wife. He mutters to Duchess Aileana, "... letting... something you want... a face-forward confrontation, Ana. And... information just..."
From the field, Tairell stands straighter than before, if possible. He frowns once as if surprised by what his emperor says. His voice rings out as a man used to shouting orders to men, and it is almost a bark of acceptance in the forceful, "I do." A terse nod of his head emphasizes his words.
From the field, Asha falls silent as the ceremony moves into full swing, eyes fixed on Tairell even through the heat and the magical mist. Between the suede and the bronze in the cloth soaking in the heat, a thin sheen of sweat is already marking her skin.
From the field, Rourke tips his head to Tairell's answer and gives a similar query to Asha, turning slightly to face her. "Do you, Duchess Asha Alexis Barca, agree to take on the full responsibilities and privileges of marriage to this man which include but are not limited to loving, honoring, protecting, supporting, caring for and cherishing him? Do you vow from this day forward to faithfully serve Guardians as a united couple that will one day be leaders of the population of the Duchy?"
Aileana looks to her husband and then takes a deep breath before she nods and just pipes down to watch the ceremony.
Phineas turns to brush a bit of Aileana's hair back from her features and press a kiss to her cheek, settling in as well.
From the field, Asha's voice, too, rings out clear and firm as a smile tugs at one corner of her lips. "I do," she promises, looking away from Tairell for just a moment to add a dip of her chin to the Emperor.
Deuce sighs and rolls his eyes at the nearby conversation, wholly involved in his own supplication to Providence. A narrowed topaz gaze swings sideways to Rosier briefly, observing his reactions, then settling back into his customary neutral stance, shushing nearby whispers with a furrowing of his brows.
Annabelle sits quietly in the stands, fanning herself about as furiously as the Empress is, which is to say quite a bit. Feelin' hot hot hot.
From the field, The Emperor beckons to the smithy now, and waits until the man has borne the cuffs close to the pair to begin the ceremonial words. "Two as one, forever joined. May you each be the shelter of stone overhead and beneath the feet, the heat of passion's flame in the heart and fire in the loins, the ring of steel's protection in the hand, and the barrier between foot and the cold, hard ground to each other. Two as one, forever joined, may you see yourself through her other's eyes, and so be one in soul as you free your body. May you only be tempered by any fire that burns you, or any blow that lands on you, growing in strength and sharpness all your days." As he talks, the smith carefully secures the hand of Asha and Tairell in the puzzle-cuff.
From the field, Tairell submits to the cuffing stoically. He watches Asha the whole time with something nearing smugness while the cuffs are placed upon himself and her.
Philip remarks dryly, "You know it's going to be a good wedding night when it starts off with cuffs."
From the field, Asha grins broadly, the sound of a laugh escaping once as her free hand rises to cover her mouth in a desperate bid for sobriety that fails utterly when she looks to the cuff. Her brows rise in unmistakeable surprise as she looks between Tairell and Rourke. "That's n-" she starts, then stops herself, covering her mouth again. Ah well. Dignity in weddings is clearly overrated.
"I still have mine," Annabelle remarks, with a touch of longing in her voice. "Hopefully it won't be too long now." She draws in a small breath, then lets it out again as she continues to fan herself, to dampen the unending heat.
From the field, Tairell answers Asha in smug brevity, "I know it's not." He looks to Rourke as if content to wait all day upon the word of the man with authority in the ceremony.
Mena's lips quirk upon listening to the ceremony, her hand moving that fan at a steady pace toward her features.
From the field, "By the authority granted as Providence's Keeper, I declare you husband and wife," Rourke says, his grin only growing. "You can kiss the bride, if you can figure out how to do so without spraining each other's wrists." Another deep breath and he gestures to the pair. "People of Guardians and Gateway, nobles and citizens of the Empire, I give you Duke and Duchess Guardians!"
From the field, From somewhere above, a shower of rose petals in many colors falls lightly, a brilliant snow of it covering the guests and the royal family and settling upon the ground.
As soon as those words are out of the Emperor's mouth, Rosier laughs heartily and gets to his feet. "I do bid you all to enjoy the festivities." He bows slowly, then turns to take his leave of this place.
From the field, The legions worth of Guardian men and women in the stands break into a roar of a cheer, rising from their seats and promptly adding a fortune in crimson rose petals to the rain upon the Coliseum below. At the same moment, two centuries flow out onto the field with raucous cheers, one in crimson and one in black, and promptly begin to duke it out.
Mena places her fan upon her lap to smile and applaud the newly wedded couple.
Annabelle looks to Rosier as he stands, murmuring not too loudly in his direction, "I do hope we'll have opportunity to talk soon, Ambassador," and she offers him a smile but only briefly before she also starts to applaud, laughing as petals start to fall down atop them all.
From the field, Marcus claps and comments to Adrian. "Beating him up while he is shackled to the old Ball-and-Chain is not very sporty, is it?" Yes, he is speaking loud enough for the couple to hear.
From the field, As the battle breaks forth, Rourke steps away from the podium and makes a beeline towards the stands. Knights fall in around him.
From the field, Asha doesn't waste any time after Rourke declares the wedding finished, her free hand moving from her own mouth to Tairell's nape as she moves in for a decidedly less than chaste kiss, laughing all the while.
Philip rises and cheers along with most of the Guardian folk, although he didn't have anything to throw. Well. New boss now.
From the field, Tairell slides the unburdened arm about Asha's waist. He pulls her near to meet her lips hungrily. After the kiss, he says something against her lips.
Glyph blows at a rose petal that lands on her nose. She glances over at Rosier to watch him leave for amoment, but she doesn't forget to rise up and join in the appluading.
Aileana looks up at the petals and then sighs as she gets to her feet, small applause given to the couple as she looks to her husband and gives a smile for him.
Phineas glances after the ambassador's leave and back to the field. He applauds the couple loudly while glancing at his wife.
Deuce stands with the rest, and yet from the gentle polite clap of hands, he is less than thrilled. Golden eyes are narrow, brows furrow, and his smile practically roars 'facade'. He murmurs to no one in particular, "Dead man walking," though his meaning is far from obvious.
From the field, Asha murmurs something quietly to Tairell, pressing another kiss, then turns to watch the legions with some amusement. "Well, that didn't take long," she chuckles, tucking a curl behind her ear as a crowd of servants start to bustle about the (mercifully shaded) tent area for the party.
From the field, Tairell breaks the kiss with Asha to look toward her brothers. "When you wish to have our conversation, Marquis, Lord, I am ready. We won't be out of the cuffs soon. My wife is unfamiliar with their design." He watches the troops fight with a critical eye.
Annabelle stands up in anticipation of making a start towards the party area, though is soon beset by a small moment of giddiness as she does. It's a moment before she seems to settle herself after that and a frown has slipped across her face. A heartbeat after that she looks to Mena and murmurs, "I wonder if it's not a little too hot out here afterall. Would your Majesty mind if I took refuge for a short time inside the coolness of the castle and returned later?" She dips a curtsey.
"I suppose we should go to the tents now," Mena comments as she gets to her feet. "I don't know about anyone else, but I need something cool to drink." She shakes her head to Annabelle. "Not at all, Highness. Go rest and get out of the heat."
From the field, Adrian grins. "Keep her in them until she learns some humility!" he jokes mercilessly, striding forward to offer a kiss to his sister. "Congratulations, Asha. I wish you all of the happiness you have been denied for so long."
From the field, Marcus hmms, walking towards the pair. "I did have my doubts about this, but His Majesty insisted. But honor needs to be satisfied." And with that, his fist speeds towards the new Duke's face, while Adrian distracts Asha. Yep, Marcus is trying to deck his new brother-in-law, and he has imperial permission to do it, too!
Aileana asks her husband rather quietly, "Do you feel up to a party? I should at least congratulate the couple."
Philip gets up to go to the party, but doesn't get there, since he's distracted by a lovely young girl who he escorts elsewhere to talk about romance and stuff, and his player heads to bed.
From the field, As Marcus' fist is moving towards Tairell's jaw, Asha's is on its way to Adrian's shoulder. "Clearly I'll need to share the lesson!" she laughs, though she grins broadly, surprise crossing her features again at Tairell's words. "You changed the /puzzle/!?" she exclaims, almost dismayed.
From the field, Rourke finds a nice, shaded area to watch the violence from. He waves at a servant and gets a cool drink brought to him. The Emperor eyes the glass, as if considering dumping it over his head.
Mena looks behind her to make sure her knights are close by as she makes her way toward the shade of the tents.
From the field, The legions continue cheerfully beating on each other in the cleared area of the Coliseum, heedless of the heat and the sun.
Mena and her knights stay far far away from the fighting legionnaires. She just wants some shade and something to drink. It's frickin hot out here.
Drake approaches the royal party, bowing once more. "A splendid wedding, Keeper, and most stoutly performed, despite the oppression of the heat."
There is little chance of dodging or blocking Marcus' fist, but it seems that Tairell tries to do neither. His only action is to turn his head slightly and shift his weight so that he can take the warrior's blow better. His other hand stretches to hold at the cuffs when he staggers, the only effort being to keep Asha and himself from going down with the strike. A grunt of family love comes from the new duke.
Rourke looks to Drake as he sips at the drink. "It was simple enough, at least. Like most matters from Guardians. Thank you for the added color and... were you responsible for the coolness? It was well-timed."
Drake chuckles at that. "I admit it was, but I would be dishonest if I allowed your interpretation of my actions to appear selfless. I shall never wear black to a wedding again, Your Majesty." He grins as he looks around him. "Still, your words are most welcome. I am glad I could help a bit."
Aileana walks with her husband to figure out where the line will be forming to congratulate the couple and moves to get into it. She inclines her head and smiles pleasantly to the new Duke.
"Providence," Mena declares as she finds the comfort of the shaded tents. "You'd think by this time of year it wouldn't be so hot outside."
Asha yelps when Tairell staggers at the blow, laughing as she, too, staggers a step, her free arm wrapping tight around his waist. "Marcus!" she exclaims, though she grins, the chiding not even half-hearted.
Rourke winces as the violence reaches the ducal couple, a deeper drink of the coolness taken. "How can they fight in this? It's crazy." He grins as Mena arrives, offering her a hand. "I liked the selfless interpretation, Your Excellency, so I'm going to stick with seeing things my way," he comments to Drake.
Yes, the legionnaires are still duking it out. Crazy Guardians seem to be quite enjoying themselves, too!
After the hit, Marcus doesn't proceed with the rest. "And safe the rest for the practice ring?" He gives Asha a wide-eyed 'what'-look, laughter in his eyes, and then steps to hug her in turn. "Congratulations, sister. Now I must go and make sure Crimsons win." He starts taking his doublet off, which would leave his torso covered with the crimson shirt. Enough to mark his allegiance in the wild brawl.
Mena gets herself something to drink on the way to joining Rourke, her hand sliding into his own. "You did wonderfully, Majesty. You even got through my favorite part with nary a laugh. I'm so impressed."
Adrian sighs. "Nice, Marcus. Now I cannot but follow, if I wish to salvage my honor. "Wait for me!" He trots after. As he is wearing white, he'll be able to hit just about anyone he wants.
Phineas moves along with Aileana, bearing her towards the ducal couple of Guardians. He spares an amused glance after Marcus on the way and a nod to Adrian.
Adrian smiles back to Phineas as he passes. "Good day, Sir."
Tairell regains his footing and gives a short nod to Marcus. "I will plan on it." He watches Adrian and Marcus head off with envy. He asks his wife, "Would you like some refreshment, or do you wish to consider the cuff for a while and how to get out of it?"
"And you, Lord Adrian," Phineas replies cordially to the Man In White.
"Well it's not as though you're getting refreshment without me," Asha smirks up at Tairell, twining fingers with him as she looks towards the tents and the people gathering there. "And I believe we have some people to see," she points out, smile flashing towards the Green Fields couple as she starts walking down the platform, apparently confident Tairell will follow.
"Nice to have you with me, Adrian." Marcus says, not stopping to exchange 'pleasantries' with Phineas. "BAAARCAAAA!!!" he bellows in a bloodcurling warcry, as he barrels into the brawl, fists swinging as the crazy Guardians all feel the love.
Confidence in Tairell's following is misplaced this time. Apparently Tairell was and is waiting for the couple to come up the platform to them, and so a brief tug of war takes place. "I cannot watch the combat as well from down there," he explains as he stays his ground and tries to gently tug Asha back up.
There's plenty of love to go around in the melee. Especially after some non-paticipating legionnaires arrive with barrels of seawater from the Loch, dumping them over groups of combatants.
Adrian grins. "Nice to be had, brother." He wades in, fists flying just as the water from the Loch hits. "BARCAAAAA!!" he echos. Let the fun begin.
"I didn't laugh because I was afraid one of them might hit me," Rourke jokes with his wife. "And then I'd have to stop the currents, we'd have huge scandals, and it would be such a mess." He eyes her for a moment. "Glad you're feeling better," he adds, but sounds almost as if that isn't the case.
There are some cheers as the saltwater chills the heat, but also one rather long curse involving an inquiry on the barrel-dumpers genealogy, loudly hypothesising that it involves a three-legged she-goat of negotiable affection and uncertain paternity. Apparently someone had a split lip and the salt water -stings-...
Aileana blinks a bit as Marcus takes off into the battle so loudly and even chuckles when Adrian does the same. She then approaches the newlyweds, "Lovely ceremony, Your Graces. I'll have your gift sent to you later. I think you'll enjoy it."
There's a definite look of surprise in Asha's features when she meets resistance, stopping to turn and look back towards her new husband. There's a moment where it looks like there may be a battle of wills, and then she steps up to the platform again as the others arrive, bemused. "Your grace," she greets Aileana as her smile returns, though she does give a tug on the cuff to make sure Tairell is paying attention. "Thank you so much for coming."
Phineas bows deeply for the duke and duchess. "We were sad that the dog isn't part of the ceremony," he confides. "But it was good to watch."
Mena glances at her husband for a long moment, then merely smiles pleasantly. "Thanks. Me too." And then she quiets to drink down the cool liquid she found.
"There are just some things I wouldn't miss, Your Grace." Aileana replies cheerfully before stepping back to allow others a chance to greet the new couple.
Duke Tairell nods respectfully to Aileana, but restrains the instinctive bow. "Thank you, Duchess Green Fields."
Rourke gazes at his wife for a few moments before he reaches for a passing glass of water. He then stretches his arm to calmly upend it over her head.
"Oh, I didn't even think!" Asha exclaims at Phineas' words, turning to look around the coliseum. "Someone had him, he must be right-" And there comes the cannonball of black mastiff, apparently freed when his keeper decided to join in the fight and promptly barelling into Asha. "Right here," the duchess laughs, ruffling at the now much-larger pup. "We will be sure to bring him if we have another," she promises Aileana and Phin, winking.
Kylane emerges from the Coliseum path, coming to a swift stop as he glances around at those gathered. His black as midnight eyes peer around before he calms himself, tugs on the end of his vest, and gives a more respectful presence, he bows deep to the Dukes and Duchesses, and deeper still, to the Emperor and Empress, as he draws nearer.
And the battle rages on! Though at this point the 'raging' part has settled into good-natured pummelling as small groups start to break off in favor of the shade and the free ale in the tents.
Mena blinks as she finds herself under a sudden deluge of water. Or, as much a deluge a glass is. She looks at Rourke in a completely stunned fashion. The start of a few words escape her, but nothing coherent comes out. When she comes to her senses, though, she laughs and dumps the rest of /her/ drink all over him.
Drake glances to the Chamberlain. "Good day, Kylane. Splendid of you to join the festivities. It lends such an official air to the proceedings." He smiles
Amused and dramatic outrage cross the Keeper's features when Mena's drink is poured on him. His hand wipes moisture from his features. "You have no sense of decorum, Philomena Caprios," he sternly scolds her.
Mena in turn wipes the water from her features, flicking any extra droplets her digits claim toward her husband. "I am the Queen of /Grace/, Your Majesty," she states matter-of-factly, as if she didn't just have a glass of water dumped on her. "Of course I h ave decorum."
Tairell offers a hand towards the dog with familiarity. "Apologies that we did not think of it, Master Forester," he comments. "Enjoy the refreshments." He looks between dog and wife. "Not on the bed."
Aileana looks over to the dog as he rushes in, chuckling before she looks back up to Phineas, "I want to go swimming. I think...I'm going to get cooled off. I need it."
Rourke snorts at Mena. "You're the queen of -something-," he shoots back, leaning her way and shaking his head to spray her with droplets of water.
Mena drops the facade and just laughs with merriment as Rourke shakes his head at her. "I would point out that you started it!"
Phineas nods to his wife. "That sounds like a lovely idea, my dear. Health and happiness to you, Duke, Duchess." He flashes a thin smile to both and heads off with his wife.
Kylane pauses as he glances at the ongoings and his lips curl into an amused smile, taking a step back and away from the proceeding before nodding to Drake. "Baron Moonshadow." he offers with a bow to the Baron.
The pup cheerfully submits to love from Tairell as well, as Asha chuckles. "I don't know, he's gotten awful used to being there," she notes, waggling her brow to Tairell. "Take care your grace, Phin," she calls after the pair, accompanied by a bark from Caer.
"And finished it. It's my privilege as Emperor to do so," Rourke says, just grinning at his wife. "There's Kylane. He looks obnoxiously dry, did you notice?"
Black and crimson legionnaires alike are breaking off now, some upending the last drops of water from the barrells over each other while others seek liquid to put on the /inside/!
Tairell watches the battle continue with more of his attention upon it than his wife at the moment. "It looks to be completed. Is there anyone else you wish to speak to before we take refreshments?"
A very bedraggled, but happy and bruised-looking Lord Adrian returns to the party tent, offering bows to those nearby. He spares a longer glance for Kylane. "Good day, Chamberlain. I.. don't remember seeing you earlier. Have you only just arrived?" He also looks to the wet royal pair, though he wisely withholds a comment.
Mena looks Kylane's way, as if scrutinizing the Chamberlian. "He /does/," she agrees with Rourke. "Horribly dry. He must be so miserable, being so dry in this heat."
"If I start walking, will you be coming with me?" Asha drawls in response to her new husband, though there's amusement in the chiding words as she shifts her weight to one hip to arch a brow up at him.
Rourke idly gestures and claims another glass or two of cold water. "And Lord Adrian looks astonishingly white, doesn't he? But the battle seems to have gotten some dust on his white, too." He passes a glass to Mena offhandedly.
Kylane looks rather /fine/ in this heat, actually. Maybe a bit too fine, all things considering. However, the man looks first to Adrian, "Lord Barca." Kylane says smoothly, "No, I was not here prior to be looked upon." He won't dare admit specifically that he was late. Instead, his eye turns to the Majesterial Couple and his eyes lift slightly. "I assure you, your Majesties, I am rather fine, you shouldn't worry about my well being.."
It is debatable whether bruised Marcus is left holding the field of glory by the virtue of his mettle, or simply because his thirst for a good clean brawl outweighs his drinking streak. He starts helping the couple of bit more clobbered people to the healers who are sure to be lurking someplace close...
Duke Tairell gives a short nod to his wife. "The battle is done. I apologize, I did not wish to miss those fighting for the glory of Guardians. Even if it is a mock battle." He follows obediently where Asha tugs now.
Mena accepts the glass of water from her husband, even sipping from it as she looks around at the others gathered. "Perhaps the Lord needs help cleaning off that dust," she suggests, grinning slightly.
Caer needs no such urging to follow as Asha starts down from the platform, seeking the welcome shade of the tents, sweat now rolling down her temples and back. "Good grief," she exclaims as she claims a glass of water from a passing tray. "I thought I was getting married at the end of September when I ordered this gown!"
Duke Tairell looks down at Asha's dress and does not comment except to smile deeply. "You do not need to remain in such formal attire long. I would not mind changing as well."
Rourke stalks towards Kylane holding the water threateningly. "I'm a generous person that I would think of your comfort always, Ky."
Kylane lets out a gasp, "Your Majesty!" He declares, "I..I.." He holds his hand in front of his eyes and his voice dips down into a lower tone, "I see much trouble. I see.. a darkness.. I see, red..like blood, and it floweth like a river.." And then, in an even yet lower voice, he adds, "..Are you buying this, or will I still have to run away?"
"I think you'll have to run," Mena says to Kylane with a wide grin spreading across her features. "Hope you can run fast."
"Yes, well, these sleeves aren't coming off over these cuffs, my love," Asha points out to Tairell with a smirk, taking a drink of water. "So I suppose we'll both be in formal attire for a little bit longer." She winks up at him, making her way towards the imperial couple. "Your majesty," she calls, grin spreading.
Rourke doesn't seem to notice that the water in his glass has turned a nice shade of blood when Kylane spoke. Even if he did, it might not stop the Emperor from taking a fast two steps closer and hurles the contents of his glass at Kylane with something like a whoop.
Duke Tairell gruffly comments to Asha, "Clothes tend to give way nicely to steel." The couple might have a bit of a collision again when he comes to a halt as he notices the emperor throwing blood at Kylane. "Is this a ceremony I don't know?"
Mena laughs as the red water goes flying, still mid-laugh when she turns to find Asha and Tairell before her and Rourke. "Oh! Congratulations, Your Graces. Lovely ceremony. Great party." She still has that sodden look about her, thanks to her own wonderful husband.
"Mmm, steel," Asha purrs, brushing her hand over Tairell's hip with a wicked grin before clearing her throat and turning a more innocent expression on Mena. "Thank you, your majesty," she chuckles. "Wish there was something we could do about the heat, but I think we'll just have to wait until the sun sets for that." Tairell's question draws her attention to Rourke and Kylane, lips twitching again. "No, not really," she tells him. "Just...You know, sometimes it's better not to ask when it involves his majesty."
Duke Tairell nods brusquely to Mena. "We're honored that you enjoy it," he says shortly. He takes some water from a passing tray, but his is for drinking.
Kylane doesn't run, despite the Empress' warning. Instead, he's staring at the glass for a moment before the crimson liquid is hurled upon his form. "..As I was saying.." He says with his lips curling faintly before he pauses. He draws his finger up to his cheek, the blood upon his skin and his eyes dart here or there before he just stands there. The rich, copper scent of blood rising in the air for a moment as it runs in rivulets down Kylane's features.
Adrian blinks at the Chamberlain. It certainly *looks* like real blood. He says nothing, however his eyes are filled with doubt. "uhhh..."
Rourke pauses as well, his huge grin fading when the water he tosses is, indeed, not water. He looks at the glass still in his hand and drops it abruptly, stepping back.
This is a Guardian wedding, so most of the guests don't notice the blood.
"Indeed," Mena replies, smiling widely as she spares a glance to the newly drenched Kylane. This is just moments before one of her nannies comes scurrying in from the courtyard, curtseying before coming up to murmur to the Empress. Whatever it is the older woman says brings a quick frown to Mena's features. She looks back to the newlyweds and regains her smile, if tightly. "If the two of you will excuse me. Do enjoy the rest of your evening. My apologies."
Kylane takes a step back as well, instantly turning from stoic merriment, to something deeper. His black eyes, countless depths and unfathomable reaches, peer around for another moment before he speaks, "Knights!" he calls out sharply, a voice lifting from his lips as he spares another glance here and there. He doesn't seem intent on wiping off the blood for the moment, there's something else on his mind.
"Take care, your majesty," Asha says with a swift smile towards the Empress, though she turns to quirk a brow curiously at the call for Knights. Even the legionnaires stiffen and still at that call, a number of mugs set down as curious glances turn towards the source.
Rourke is quickly surrounded by a brace of knights, a couple with weapons drawn. Mena may think she's leaving simply, but her own escort fairly picks her up and heads off with her.
