(Note: Attendees are encouraged to post responses in this thread. The guest list was small, but if you think your character would be there, go for it.)
Moonlight streamed through the windows of the chapel, bathing it in a dim glimmering light, only a few candles beating back the darkness. It was not so late as the night he and Lawtait had crept out here together as a courtesy to their guests, but still, a hush hung heavy on the sacred place. There were neither musicians nor decorations, only the priest and the very few they'd invited. The steward stood straight with his hands clasped behind his back as he waited for the back doors to open, garbed in the best of his livery, boots neatly polished, his usual cane absent from his hip. Not a twitch of nerves touched his face, the man all seriousness.
On the outside of the chapel, the bride was the perfect opposite of her groom. She'd felt so much more at ease when they'd been in the chapel by themselves in that holy silence, with only a single candle to bear witness to their secretive union. But now, she was to be the center of attention. Swallowing hard, she wrung her hands together around the stem of the single stargazer lily she'd chosen for herself. It matched her dress perfectly, simple but with all the trappings of regal elegance. An overlay on the skirt was stitched with beads in a subtle floral pattern that really only occurred four or five times over the entire thing. Quite simple indeed. The bodice boasted very little embellishment whatsoever, pale over pale skin in an off-shoulder design with long sleeves that hugged her slender arms tastefully. Her hair was simple too, much like the same way she typically wore it, though a veil had been intricately woven between those thick black strands.
The doors to the chapel slowly opened and she nodded humbly to each one of the guards who swung the doors aside. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat and the first steps she took into the dark, hushed chapel were tentative ones. Eyes were on her. She could feel them. Her own gray eyes followed the path of that Valenti-blue rug and crept up the form of her steward. Eyes locked on his, and suddenly, she felt serene. She felt confident. She smiled at him in her usual meek fashion, and stepped in a disciplined, paced step (despite her desires to rush to him) until she finally came to his side before the priest.
Whatever it was the steward felt in that moment disappeared behind the motions of the ceremony, his green eyes following Lawtait intently as she made her stately way down the aisle, the few there forgotten. Precisely on cue, his hand extended for hers, and Christoph turned sharply to face the priest with a subtle tightening of his fingers. Ever conscious of her, he led his bride to kneel beside him at the priest's bidding, and then it began in earnest.
It was difficult to focus on the prayer offered up for them and on the small exhortation of the priest, all of it seeming superflous in such a simple ceremony. More quickly than it seemed, however, the priest addressed Christoph, the steward regarding him soberly until he was bidden to speak. His eyes swiveled to his bride, and he clasped her hand in both of his as his voice rang out in the hush of the room.
"I, Christoph Valvogt, take thee, Lawtait Delarian, to be my wedded wife.."
How strange it sounded to hear such a thing coming from his lips, the steward having no aspirations to such a wedded bliss until quite recently, and yet he found himself almost anticipating the priest. His repetition of the words came so abruptly after the poor man's prompts that the priest looked affronted, but Christoph spoke the words clearly and there could be no doubt of his conviction. His usual sternness had resumed in front of the watching eyes, but beneath it there was unshakable certainty.
"...thereto I plight thee my troth."
Lawtait's heart pounded in her chest as she took his hand, the feeling of so many eyes on her (despite the fact that there truly were only a few guests) was rather overwhelming. But she drew in a deep breath and smiled a faint smile to her soon-to-be husband and mustered whatever of her courage that she could find to maintain at least some kind of poise in front of the gathering of close friends. It was almost surreal as she came to kneel in front of the priest with Christoph at her side, and even moreso to listen to those words come so easily from his lips.
She felt as though she were simply hanging from each of his words, so enrapt with them that she almost didn't notice when the priest prompted her. Blinking eyes met him at first, before a bashful smile and an almost immeasureable degree of red nearly glowed on her cheeks. A meek voice came from her own lips, words in a hushed tone that, if the chapel had been any less quiet, would not have permeated the air enough for the audience to hear. And even so, it was likely that they had to strain their ears. These words were meant for Christoph alone, he truly was the only one who had to hear them. As she spoke, she could only think of that single candle...
I, Lawtait Delarian, take thee, Christoph Valvogt, to be my wedded husband..."
Her thumb caressed his gently, and the priest found that Lawtait's echoing of his words were not so prompt as Christoph's. Softer, a slightly slower pace, but no less convicted.
"...thereto I plight thee my troth."
A thick, almost palpable silence hung in the air, and she couldn't help but notice the way the light glittered in his eyes, or the way the shadows touched his face. It felt as though she'd forgotten to breathe, her lungs burned in protest at the meager amounts of air she'd been drawing. But the room seemed sacred, and she was reluctant to disturb it. Finally, the Priest's voice made a most unobtrusive venture out into the room once more, and she could breathe again.
The priest's hands came to rest upon their heads as he intoned soberly, seeming to know that neither truly would hear him. "You are now bound as one, my children. May God bless this union that it flourishes and is fruitful." His hands slipped from them as he continued on. "Rise and know that you are one. Steward, you may kiss your bride."
It seemed Christoph did hear those final words, the first lightness of expression dawning on his face in the form of a small grin. Once he'd helped his bard to her feet, he brought a gentle hand to her cheek, his green eyes sweeping over her wonderingly. Beyond her, there was only darkness, the light of the candles lost as if she were all that existed in this world ..no different than when he'd made his own silent vows to her. Reverently, he bent over her, gathering her close as his lips claimed hers for a tender kiss.
Fri Jun 12, 2009 2:31 am