[December 2019] Royal Wedding [OPEN]

OOC Note: The wedding of Tobias and Alycia is going to be set in December of 2019. We've decided that the best way to approach it is to just assume that everyone's relevant officials have been invited. So feel free to join the thread if you like.

IC:

7 December 2019
12:29 pm
On a Saturday
Astissa, Norsos

Astissa gleamed. It seemed to have gotten more magnificent since the last time Tobias saw it. The White Palace seemed radiant. It was quite a change from
Býkonsviði. The Prydanian capital was recovering to be sure, but the city still carried scars from the Civil War. Astissa, however, seemed like a city on a hill to the young Prydanian King.
He could hardly believe he was there either. He had visited Astissa before, to be with Alycia. All of that...it just seemed unreal though. He had trained himself to not worry about the future. It was a harsh lesson he had learned from the War. He had enjoyed his time with Alycia in the moment. Even after proposing...the wedding seemed like a distant, far-off date. Only...here it was. He gulped as his limousine made its way through the Norsos capital. He breathed deep to calm himself.

“You’re doing ok?”

“Yeah, Rylond” Tobias replied to his close friend and best man.
“Just nervous I guess.”

“You’re getting married my dude” Rylond laughed, “it’s ok to be nervous.”
Tobias nodded as he looked out the window. The streets were lined by people waving Norsi and Prydanian flags. He felt his heart thumping in his chest as the motorcade arrived at the White Palace.

“No, seriously man, you doing ok?” Rylond asked again, knowing when his friend was well and truly nervous.

“I just...I never thought I’d be here. That I’d actually be here. Married.”
Tobias let his mind wander. Through everything he’d been through in his young life, he was on the verge of his wedding day. And it all seemed like it was about to overwhelm him. Rylond could sense that in his friend too.

“Toby, you’re sure you want to go through with this?” He regretted saying it as soon as it left his mouth. What was he doing? Sewing doubt in the mind of someone in a wedding that couldn’t be called off without it being a huge scandal? He tried to backtrack, but he was so shocked at his own stupidity that he couldn’t speak.
The question had a different effect on Tobias, however. It allowed him to think about what was happening clearly. Everything else about this wedding- the preparations, the expectations, it had consumed him. Rylond’s question, however, put everything in focus. Was he sure he wanted to do this?

“Yeah. More sure than I am about anything else in the world.”

Gaiseric stood on the balcony of the villa and breathed in deeply, he felt the cold morning air prickle on his face as he cleared his throat and began to hum slowly. The hum began to grow into a deep throaty singing voice as Gaiseric recited the ancient dawn blessings, it was a tradition he made a point to enact whether on the steppe or beyond. His loud singing reached its height and then died off gently, the ancient communion with Ziu finished. He raised his right hand to the emerging son and mouthed one final oath

“True to Essalan” he said in a quiet but sincere voice

He breathed in and exhaled, warm steaming breath flowing into the air in front of him, he leant on the balcony for a time and gazed out at the great city of Astissa. The capital of Norsos was truly ancient, temples of marble sharing space next to the telltale glass and metal of a modern city. It was fascinating and repellent all at once, beautiful but also complete anathema to everything he knew.
“They could fit Kimbria and Neuanfang into this space a hundred times over” he muttered his tone filled with the slightest hint of astonishment

He had seen more cities in his years as High Chieftain then most Essalanean families witnessed over the course of several generations. The experience of pure amazement that so many could dwell in a sea of stone never quite seemed normal. Part of him relished the alienness of cityscapes, the other longed for the unending desolation of the steppe.

He had come north with purpose, at the invitation of a man he regarded as both friend and ally. Tobias III of Prydania was to marry Empress Alycia, the wolf queen herself, and Gaiseric had come to witness this esteemed pairing. In the years since the opening of the steppe, none had been as steadfast in their aid of the developing Essalanea as Prydania, Predice and Norsos. The Lucscova pact was a family all of its own and the unity of these great clans was the key to their survival, thus did he come north.

“Quite the view, but if you keep that yarling up you’ll have our neighbours bolting for the woods” Anegrette chuckled as she emerged onto the balcony lit cigarette in hand

“Perhaps, we are something of a novelty this far north, but I do the blessing, all the same, we must attend to these times with an honest spirit” Gaiseric replied with a warm smile

Anegrette nodded with approval, she took a long drag and her cigarette and exhaled, she watched the strands of smoke flow up into the cold winter air with mild amusement.

“They are calling this the wedding of the century,” she said softly

“Indeed, the stag and the wolf united” Gaiseric replied enthusiastically

“but at what cost?” Anegrette said her tone suddenly darkening

“Cost?” Gaiseric asked surprised

“A wolf is a predator as you should well know, you are of the same ilk, can a stag survive such a pairing?” She said quizzically

It was true, as different as night from the day were Alycia and Tobias and yet in other ways, they were the perfect pairing. Their temperaments complemented each other, Alycia’s assertiveness and Tobias’s compassion bringing out the best in each person. They may have been different, but that difference would be a thing of strength.

“There have been stranger pairings...daughter of the Adder” he said giving Anegrette a knowing look

“Will be stranger pairings,” she said correcting him with an amused smile

Gaiseric smiled at the thought of his own impending union, a secret still but a well-planned one.

“I will be sure to take notes for the future,” he said jokingly

“See that you do” Anegrette replied with a slight grin

The two were silent after that, they gazed out into the vast sea of marble and glass. The horizon and all the promises of the future seemed to echo in the dawn air.

The Imperial jet was ready for the Imperator, the long flight to Norsia would serve as good time to be alone with Beatrix. She was not used to the royal lifestyle and was nervous around the Imperial Court.

"Auggi, do you think that these Royal types will be ok with you bringing a commoner to an event such as this?"

"B, I want you to know even if they are not I wouldn't care you're all that matters to me. What happened to that Dark Humor? You seem so stressed, how about some wine? I made sure that the jet had bottles of your favorite!"

The pair began to drink and be with each other, Beatrix would laugh as Augustus told her stories of him at University. His friends and the adventures that he went on, she would tell him about the peasant lifestyle and what they did for fun. The class difference between the two was something that Augustus found adorable, she was his world after the months of time they were together he felt himself falling for her. This was something that he had never felt before. Then the pilot said over the loud speaker:

"We are approaching Norsia please get ready for a landing."

The Imperator looked over at his love and said to her: "Are you sure you're ready for this? We can always not do this if you want to. I want you to be comfortable, I don't want to push you to do anything that you wouldn't want to."

"Auggi, as long as I'm here with you I'll be fine." She kissed him and the plane landed, as the two stood up the Imperial translators stood at attention the aids and all other helpers began to prepare the two for their appearance. The Imperator was put into a Field Marshals uniform, however with Imperial insignia. Beatrix was given a beautiful dress, much more simple than what was expected in the Imperial court. She looked stunning and Augustus couldn't help but stare at her, she blushed and looked back:

"What is it? Do I have something on me?" The Imperator couldn't help but laugh at the dumb joke, he kissed her, pulled her close and said:

"Well, let's get going to the wedding then. But I want you to know, with you looking that good I might have to fight someone if they so much as look at you."

The pair got into the car, and began to drive to the ceremony. Beatrix looked stressed and Augustus could tell:

"You know there is no Imperial media here, nothing will happen. But I can tell your stressed, what is it that you're worried about?"

"I don't want these Royal types to think that I am any less than them. They will know that I'm not Royal."

"From what I've heard the King of Prydania was raised with commoners, I would imagine he wouldn't allow anyone to ever say anything to be said to you."

As the car arrived at the wedding location, the Imperator and Beatrix walked up to the entrance and the Imperator said:

"I hope that we aren't too early, now if you wouldn't mind I would like to go and mingle with the other guests and say hello to the king. Behind me are our my translators, and I would live to give you a tip."

He handed the man one hundred Nosrian dollars and walked in.

Svrtan's hands trembled as he fumbled with his tie, prompting his impatient young wife to click her tongue in exasperation as she scooched across the seat to help him. She quickly fixed what his shaky old hands couldn't and sat back in her seat, staring ahead as the palace came into view.

"You're a coward, you know." You said quietly, her lips pursed angrily.

Svrtan glared at her as she pushed her shoulder length brown hair behind her ear.

"A coward would have left you turning tricks in that whorehouse. What the hell do you mean I'm a coward, anyways?" he croaked, lighting a cigarette.

"You're terrified of Tobias, and for what? Because his people love him in a way yours have never loved you? You're a coward." she said with a sly smile, loving the opportunity to speak to him like this without being hit.

"Tobias is a symbol of everything Yamantau stands against." Svrtan lied, mostly to himself.

Truth was, Volodymyr Svrtan was in fact terrified of Toby, down to his very core. He knew in his heart that this young man was a symbol of change and justice in the world, someone who could steal the affections of the Yamanta people. At the very base of his being, Svrtan was a petty, insecure man, and of limited intelligence to boot.

He was still quite nervous that Ygor had not come with him on this journey. Anywhere he and Anastasia went, Ygor usually followed. He fiddled with the platinum cufflink that bore the seal of Yamantau as he stared out the window, trying not to look at Anastasia as she touched up her makeup before the car stopped.

Ivjan, the driver and sole member of the security detail stopped the vehicle, and let the Premier out, taking extra care to help Anastasia out as she smiled sweetly at him. Svrtan could not help but marvel at the beautiful Norsian palace, nor the city as they drove through. It was not often that you saw such beauty in Yamantau.

"Is that the Imperator and his wife ahead of us?" Anastasia asked happily, pointing at a delegation entering the building.

"I..I believe so." Svrtan said quietly. Yet another man that overshadowed him. He could not believe the Imperator and his wife had made the trip from Auroria.

"Let's get inside." Ivjan remarked, motioning towards the door, letting Svrtan pass before putting his hand on Anastasia's lower back and gently guiding her along with a small smile.

The small party approached the greeter who still held the tip the Imperator had given him.

"Volodymyr and Anastasia Svrtan of Yamantau. This is my bodyguard and interpreter, Ivjan Simonenko. A pleasure." Volodymyr smiled weakly.

Arthur looked over the fountain that stood as the centrepiece of the park he was in, it felt serene and alive despite the winter cold leaving the trees barren. Such a contrast to Korovka. He listened to the running water while leaning on his partner’s shoulder. Hand in hand they stood together passing time before the big event, the wedding. Not their own though, that of Toby, King of Pridaniya and Alycia, Queen of Norveskiy. It felt almost surreal, a mirror of his own life. Arthur was climbing from the ruins of war and disaster to come out on top with their heart in the arms of another, much like Toby. Arthur would never have his wedding be such a public affair though.

“Adrian, are you nervous?” Arthur asked

“About what, dove?”

“We’re different from them. I know, say, Toby wasn’t brought up in a large palace or manor like some guests but we… we had to kill to eat the next day. It’s a whole different level.”

“That’s not the what, Arthur, but the why.” Adrian responded, turning his face to sit in Arthur’s hair while moving a hand up to caress and calm him

“What if we’re viewed as different, or worse, inferior by some of them”

“What are the Essalaneans going to do, eh? Tell us our horses are less battle hardened?”, Arthur let out a huff of laughter in response
“Seriously though dove, Toby would never judge you and neither would Alycia because she’s marrying him. Besides, I’ll be at your side the whole time. Ignore the bogatyye ukoly.” Adrian added, kissing Arthur where his face had been resting on their head.

“Every time you kiss me like that I feel shorter and shorter.” Arthur quipped

“It’s not my fault you’re only 5’6”.” Adrian jokes, before getting playfully hit by Arthur

“Nemnogo der’ma!”

“Aren’t you the little one here” Adrian laughed.

The pair giggled for a moment longer before sitting down on the fountain’s edge. Arthur’s worries had subsided with just a moment of fun, although a small spec of the thought would remain stuck.

“There is one thing I’m nervous about myself though.” Adrian suddenly said

“What is it?”

“Your eyes, I hope you’ll be safe today.”, Arthur began to giggle
“What’s so funny?”

“I wish my worries were so mundane, it’s just blindness. And like you said earlier, you’ll be at my side!”

“Your desensitisation is showing dove” Adrian rolled his eyes jokingly as the two cozied up again, passing time until they had to rush to the White Palace.

The Sil Dorsettian delegation was unusually large, comprising of both co-princesses, the Prime Minister and her husband, and the ambassador to Prydania who once lead the old Phoenix Union's outreach to Cogoria.

While most of the delegation passed the time chatting about the agricultural trade deal and the ambassador's works in the country, Alice held her head down low and didn't talk. She seemed distant, and even depressed. It wasn't long before before Madeline took notice and asked Alice what was going on.

"I can't help but think that I should be the one up at the altar today, not Alycia," Alice said. "I shouldn't have listened to you."

Madeline seemed unsurprised by Alice's thoughts, but she still felt a little hurt. It was her that advised the junior monarch to be careful about feeling pressured into a royal marriage, but she felt that it was Alice's overblown interpretation that stopped the relationship from getting more serious. It seemed Alice needed a reminder of what happened a few years ago, she thought.

"What did I tell you before? I wasn't going to stop you. I just wanted you to think hard about it, and you did," Madeline replied. "And you told me it was for the best that it didn't happen. Alice, you're just feeling a little jealous right now. Your time will come."

"Yeah, I guess," Alice thought out-loud. "Plus, I guess if I really loved him that much I wouldn't have cared about what it would have done to the country."

"It's not that you don't love him," Madeline interjected, "but it's just that your sense of duty won the day. What you should continue to do now is build on your friendship, and establish new ones. You haven't talked to Alycia at all, have you?"

"No, I haven't."

"Perhaps if you get a chance, you might want to fix that. Just don't come out and tell her that you were a flickering flame before her. And in the meantime, just show your support today."

"'Chin up, smile on,'" Alice said, smiling as she a lesson from long ago.

"Yep. Chin up, smile on. You remembered that one!"

Sfan fumbled about in his pockets for a moment, before pulling out a worn pack of cigarettes and an equally worn pack of matches. Striking a match against the frame of his wheelchair, he cupped his hand over the cigarette while lighting it to protect it from the chilled breeze blowing in from the ink-black sea, taking a long drag as he silently swept his gaze across the night sky. The lights of the city behind him obscured some of the stars, but it was still beautifully clear and a familiar sight to his old eyes.

He glanced over at his two aides and comrades, the young Kiara and Tanśa. They were seated a small distance away on a bench, perhaps closer to each other than was strictly professional, and were idly talking about some subject Sfan could not make out. Those two, in part, represented the future of his country, and they would make strong leaders.

His thoughts drifted further, to that of the wedding he had flown here to attend. Tobias and Alyicia, little more than children, really, were to be married. Toby had seen circumstances horridly similar to Sfan's own upbringing forge him, with the stench of civil war, but had come out perhaps less flawed. It was unfortunate to Sfan that the strongest leaders often seemed to be born of strife and controversy rather than unity and growth. A certain edge was lent to people who had felt and given out far too much pain for any one person to bear. Arthur was of this mold as well, blinded by powers Sfan had only heard of in stories, thrown into prominence by destruction and chaos. There was no doubt Arthur's rule would lend a sorely needed sense of compassion to his broken country.

The relative morbidity of Sfan's thoughts did not surprise him, really. He could feel the end of his story coming, though it was not clear when that would be. He could only be glad that he would leave behind a strong Yeran nation and a strong and united Craviter. He would be remembered perhaps, grieved for in a golden light that hid his missteps and misdeeds, but the Living Earth would continue to turn, the stars would continue to shine, and his inheritors would continue to rebuild.

Sfan smiled.

When a monarch retires, one would expect them to dissapear from the public life so their heir, if there is one, would get the spotlight. However, that wasn't the case in the Marquisate of Vivanco. The "Rex Emerito" Johannes Petrio the First, ever since his abdication in 2017, have been more than active in official visites of the marquisate. Some would claim that it is because of him that some of the more lucratious deals Vivanco holds are thanks to him. Others, with more republican ideals, would criticise on him for "sucking from the pot" and "living the life at the cost of the people". What was true, was that the older man was a man of culture and world, and he, for one, wasn't going to miss on this event.

But since it was an official act, he would be accompanied with the Minister of External Relationship, Rudolph Van Daster. He had been busy with most of the paperwork and negotiarion for the addition of the Marquisate within M.E.T.A., but the prime minister, Leonardo Ferrá, had told him to accompany "his highness" to this event, that their deputies would handle the rest.

It was evening when the excentrious "Emerito" arrived at the International Airport Petria-Ordulez, the entire airport almost on complete lockdown due to security meassures. There, the minister met with Johannes Petrio with a bow, to which he laughed and fondly patted him in the back.

"The old dogs don't give you a rest and now they take you as my caretaker!" the older man laughed taking his hand around the minister's shoulder. Johannes was lightly older than the minister, with a deep beard and glasses, and for being a part of the nobility, he didn't seem like one, with what one could consider casual clothings. A green wool pull-over with a suit shirt beneath, with a black tie beneath. He wasn't fit, but he didn't seem to mind. A hearty man, after all.

The taller man, with moustache that would probably be considered a national treasure chuckled softly. The last time they saw was at the time of the abdication, lightly after his second appointment in the government. "Your highness, I-"

"I'm not the marquiss anymore, Rudolph! Just call me Johannes."

"Very well. However, I may remind you of where we are going, and the protocol would reccomend th-"

"How's life, my good man?"

Rudolph was taken by surprise by the man, and stuttered too much for a response.

"Ah, you'll answer me in the plane. C'mon, we don't want to be late! Or too late, rather."

The jovial man chuckled again in his deep voice and walked with the minister and some other people, security, counselors, into the official plane of the government, the Petrian Pellican. The name was given by a popular vote, something the at the time government thought would be a good idea. But the will of the people said so.

The plane then, after the corrections needed being done, and with a green light, begun it's take off for Norsia.

Astissa, Norsos

Everyone was captivated and some positively...apprehensive.

Lailani and her wife thought of the best gift they could give to any newly-wed couple, but it didn't occur to her the possible conflicting sensibilities present here in Craviter. But it couldn't be too bad. They rounded up and narrowed down the range of gift-buying to a modest yet stately minimum. After all, the newly-weds-to-be won't be just any couple. These are heads of state. The dignity of their office as symbols of their respective nations demand the proper comprehension of the highest order. Lailani knew both she and Marilag, in their lack of appreciation for Gotic monarchies, tried their very best.

The two large paintings are a pair, and so is its subject matter. It's about Sidapa, the God of Death, after he saves Bulan, the Eight Moon and God of Life, from the slippery maw of the leviathan Bakunawa that intended to devour him and the other moons. This is that version of the story where Sidapa, instead of taking Bulan home, he abducts him and takes him to the cavern gates of Rugal-sa-Idalom where Sidapa's palace is, hidden in the Suthulu Mountains. The one where Bulan tries to...seduce Sidapa in an attempt to escape.

Bulan in his portrait has his back turned towards the viewer, as specified to the artist, to ensure there will be respect towards the fundamental nature of heterosexuality in Messianist Gotic culture. That way, with Bulan's flowing white locks of hair under a long translucent veil, feminine lips and pearl-like eyes peeking over his shoulder, they might mistake Bulan for a beautiful Lasakit woman.

Sidapa is on his throne, open arms and legs apart. Dressed in the traditional attire of a Lasakit warrior: Bare-chested. Granted, it's a mere shadow but the shape of the mast is unmistakable. Especially with his black-as-coal skin against the lighter gray surface of his seat. Hopefully, covered in gold necklaces and armlets, his imposing musculature on the impressive rock throne will distract eyes from inadvisable scrutiny.

They could've just stuck with the lecherous look on Sidapa's face...

Surely, there are more fetching details in Sidapa's figure. A Tamaraw skull gilded in plate armor serves as his headdress. There's an intricate red sash decorated in colorful tribal patterns wrapped across his torso from the shoulder, all in order except the..loose cloth of the thick and flowing bahag that was supposed to cover all of his loins.

The Norsian staff's reaction might prove to be instrumental in this situation...

"Is that his...?" The Head of Public Relations asked, her hand propping up her chin to give her a much stable view.

The old embassy housekeeper was blushing tomato red. She put her hands over her eyes. "No! I don't know! I don't want to look anymore!"

...whose usefulness might prove itself later on.

What matters is that the royal couple will be inspired by these paintings... Lailani wishes they will.

"I suppose we could always go back to Dasharatha." Marilag teased, rubbing the tense shoulders on Lailani.

Lailani snorted at the idea. "Me in the rat race? Again? Not a chance!"

"Rat race?" Petrikov butted in.

Before Lailani could with her own brand of no-shit-nonsense, Marilag butted in with a smile. "She's talking about the general elections, dear."

"Oh, rat races? Wow...!" The housekeeper joined in, obviously trying to shift her attention away from the paintings. "Lawston is really an exotic country."

Rat business aside, Lailani narrowed her eyes at a realization. She didn't see the Deputy Head of Mission at the flag-raising ceremony this earlier. Lailani looked at Petrikov.

"Where have you been?"

Petrikov smirked. "Didn't you know? I showed the lovely guest around the embassy."

He looked over his shoulder to gesture at the other end of the room, at the beautiful young man chatting with another young man, the deputy assistant undersecretary sent by Gat Untalan. Or rather, based on the sound of laughter and the suggestive grin from the civil servant, it's getting somewhere beyond chatting, bordering on flirting.

Lailani rolled her eyes and marched towards them. The undersecretary scurried when he saw Lailani coming and nodded at her to make his ticket way out. The lovely guest kept smiling, as if completely oblivious.

Lailani smiled and reached for a handshake. "Thank you for coming here, Sid! We're so glad you're able to present your work in person."

The lovely guest tilted his head. "Oh, the honor could've been mine if it was my work. You see, I'm Sid's husband."

"Married?!! DAMMIT!!!"

Petrikov stormed off, walking out of the room, along with the undersecretary who walked in pretty much the same manner... Strange...

Lailani sighed.

"Um... Did I say something wrong?" Sid's husband put his finger on his lips, lingering a look of concern at the door.

Lailani gulped. She needs to say something. "Uh. I-It's...diplomatic jargon!"

"Diplomatic jargon...?"

"Yes! It means he's going to call the Lostan Trade Council! It may be a royal wedding, but this an opportunity for the Lawstoner business communities in Norsos and Prydania to celebrate and reiterate good relations. T-That's why we commissioned your Sid!"

Marilag tapped Lailani on her shoulder. She stepped forward to Sid's husband. "Hey! Why don't you meet some of the generous businessmen and investors? Most of the commission fees came from their donations."

Sid's husband perked up at that and smiled from ear-to-ear.

"Oh!! I'd like to thank them for their patronage!" The lovely guest hastily nodded at Lailani before he hurriedly left with Marilag to join the well-dressed gentlemen and women assembled nearby, helping themselves with glasses of champagne and pastries on fine ceramic.

Lailani sighed. "I want to go home..."

Then...what's the point? Lailani asked for the ambassadorship, in a perfect place to settle down, and now she's thinking about going back to The Batasan despite it all? She sacrificed everything to get here. The party, her reputation, her entire career. It's all gone now and she's vowed to spend the rest of her life dragged across the front lines of foreign service. It's too late.

At least I got to be Chancellor. That's as high anyone should get in the tallest stripper pole in Ganatrastadt. Any higher than that, I'd be whoring myself.

"Odd. Why does he look familiar?"

"I dunno. Wasn't at the flag ceremony so I couldn't have seen him arrive."

Lailani overheard. She could recognize the voices. It was the embassy housekeeper talking with the Head of Public Relations. When Lailani swirled around to swipe a quick look, she saw them glancing at Sid's husband.

"At the ceremony?" The housekeeper's head was lowered. There was certainty in her voice. "No...no, it can't be. He wasn't there."

Lailani looked at Sid's husband. He didn't notice earlier, but the lovely guest's hair is white.

Lailani glanced at Bulan's painting, then back at Sid's husband, and again. And when he did it for the last time, he took a good long look between them and compared.

Oh..!! He modeled as Bulan!

Hah! That's...

That's...kinda...weird?

The Hightonian delegation arrived in Astissa with a fairly large group stepping off of the private jet. Ordinary, Highton would send a small delegation, but as Highton has historic and cultural close ties with Prydanian and a modern relationship with Norsia, a larger delegation with several members of the royal family made the trip to Astissa. The first to step out was President Calabrese, who was joined by his wife Angelina. It had only been a few weeks since he had announced that he was not running for re-election and he was happy to make the trip up north as he entered the final nine months of his term. The President was accompanied by a few security officers who followed him off the jet. Then, some members of the royal family deboarded: Princess Penelope, Princess Nicole, and Prince Hans made the trip because of their relationship to the Tobias. They were cousins with the groom after all, through Princess Angela about a century prior, even if they had only met him a couple times. Prince Timothy had retired from service a few years earlier, but even he made the trip along with his wife Elisa. The last one to step out was the Prince of Highton himself, Diego II. Diego was very excited for the wedding. While he was a little further related to Tobias in blood when compared to some of his other relatives who made the trip, he had become friends with the King of Prydania in the two and half years since the syndicalist regime was toppled in 2017. They had met for the first time at the 2017 World Cup Final and since that memorable day the two Craviterian heads of state had met each other several times. Diego also looked forward to meeting up with some other heads of state with Rajesh of Syrixia, Anthony of Goyanes, and Claidie and Alice of Sil Dorsett among them.

“You excited?” Asked Penelope to her brother Diego.

“Yeah, of course, this is gonna be a hell of a celebration.”

Sobekh Na Tandesha straightened his collar and tried to look calm and collected, the stubble and fatigued eyes didn’t lend the façade a great deal of believability. He had been Ambassador to Prydania for less than a year and in that time had served no less than four different heads of state. First Kaskaran had died, then Izrah, then Murza....now he was the loyal servant of Sabhrain I of house Kevsha. He felt cursed, a man serving an endlessly rotating list of doomed masters.

He lit a cigarette and took a long drag as he tried to compose himself, the fires from the battle of Tyrooz had only just ceased when he had been given the order to represent the new empress. Sabhrain I was not even crowned yet! He felt like a fool dancing on the strings of tyrants. A shaky hand reached inside his coat pocket and retrieved a small notepad, countless lines of badly scrawled text marred its face.

“Your Majest....no....Your Highness...” he tried to rehearse how he would address the Prydanian king but nothing seemed to work

He stared across at his desk, the package from Tyrooz with its inconspicuous brown wrapping paper seemed to beckon to him. He knew the contents from the hasty briefing that he had received from the foreign ministry. The call had been a mess, unfamiliar voices relaying half-rushed orders to a beleaguered recipient. What he did know was that Sabhrain had ordered a kingly gift to be delivered with all haste to Prydania, a single beaded crown. A royal gift for the newly minted Exalt’s noble cousin.

“Your Highness...Tobias of Prydania...Your Imperial cousin sends her regards” he said finally

The words seemed to flow better this time, an earnest appeal to family loyalty no matter how distant.

“It looks like we will be sitting here,” Prince Thibault-Maximilian of Saintonge pointed to a row of seats labelled with the name of the country. A row of seats that they won’t be able to fill up.

For a country its size, the Santonian delegation was small. The country opted to send the oldest of the royal children, the identical twins Prince Thibault-Maximilian of Saintonge and Prince Timothée-Brice of Saintonge. Today, people will not be confused by the identical faces of the two princes, as they were wearing the formal uniforms of the military branch that they were in. Prince Thibault-Maximilian donned the dark blue formal dress uniform of the Royal Santonian Airforce; Prince Timothée-Brice was sporting the white version of the Royal Santonian Navy.

The uniforms made it look like they were the military bodyguards of their uncle, Duke Thibault X of Champagne. The fifty-year old Duke of Champagne was wearing a formal suit-and-tie, decorated with his honours and the insignia of the Duchy of Champagne. The duchy of Champagne had been abolished after the Santonian Revolution, and Duke Thibault’s title was only a courtesy title, since he was from a cadet branch of the Royal Family of Saintonge.

Duke Thibault X of Saintonge was a cousin of King Thibault II of Saintonge, the twins’ father. Both were named after the popular first Pope-King of Saintonge. The Duke of Champagne wasn’t there because he descended from the royal family of Saintonge; he was there because he was the deputy ambassador to the Yellowtail Economic Engagement Treaty, an organisation that Saintonge, Norsia, and Prydania were all part of.

Prince Timothée called out the other Santonians who accompanied them there, who were starting head to the gallery at the back. “Why are you leaving? Join us here,” he said with a smile.

Royal Santonian Ambassador to Norsia Marie-Adrienne Delandine did not hesitate to sit at the end of the row reserved for Santonians. There were two seats between the ambassador and the princes. One of the staff excused himself: “Your Highness, I’m going to take care of the wine and other gifts.”

Prince Timothée beckoned the other staff to take the empty seats. Two of the staff, a male and a female, looked at each other hesitantly. “Are you refusing a Prince of Saintonge?” Prince Timothée threatened them in jest.

The two gave the prince their nervous smiles. “Thank you, Your Highness,” the young man said as he sat beside Prince Timothée.

“What’s your name?” Prince Thibault asked.

The young man stammered. He couldn’t believe that he was amidst all these royalty. What he thought was distant and untouchable, was now right beside him. It was like meeting a celebrity. Granted, he was a staffer of the Duke of Champagne, but nothing beats meeting the famous and popular princes of Saintonge, one of which might become the crown prince and future king!

“He forgot his name,” Prince Timothée chuckled. “Don’t worry man, we don’t eat people.”

The young man swallowed the lump in his throat and managed to speak. “Er… my name is Marc-Thorsteinn Gausserand-Landet,” he said.

Prince Timothée quickly scrutinized his new seatmate. Mr Gausserand-Landet was probably in his early twenties, a well-built tall man with short blond hair and blue eyes, wearing a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. He looked like he could fit in with the Santonians, but something was off. His surname sounded Santonian, his name was not.

“Are you Santonian?” Prince Timothée asked.

Gausserand-Landet dithered.

“Thorsteinn is Prydanian,” the Duke of Champagne answered. “Or, rather, was Prydanian. He was adopted by one of our diplomatic staff.”
“I see,” the prince muttered.
“He’ll be our translator for Prydanian and Norsian,” the duke added. “He’s assigned to my YEET office.”

“Nice to meet you, Thorsteinn,” Prince Timothée said, trying to say the name correctly. He extended his hand for a shake.
“It’s an honour to meet you, Your Highness,” Thorsteinn said, bowing his head a bit as he shook the prince's hand.

Prince Timothée then turned to the young woman who sat between Thorsteinn and the ambassador. “Bonjour! You are..?”
“Rachel-Florence Laurendeau, Your Highness,” she also bowed her head as she shook hands with the prince. “Consular officer at the Royal Santonian Embassy in Astissa.”
“So you are part of the staff of Madame Delandine?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Florence answered. Beside her, the ambassador gave a confirmatory nod. The two women were wearing expensive-looking formal dresses fit for a royal wedding. It seemed that the plainest-looking of them was Thorsteinn. But then again, Thorsteinn didn’t expect to be sitting astride and amidst nobility.

“Also, Your Highness,” Ambassador Delandine added, “Thorsteinn is actually the son of our ambassador to Oclusia.”

The prince turned to Thorsteinn. “You didn’t tell me that you are the son of our esteemed ambassador," the prince said with a grin. “I feel you have an interesting story,” the prince remarked. “Maybe we can swap stories over some good wine.” The prince took his seat. “Or maybe now while we wait.”

Late November
Fontaine, Callise

Dupont looked at the invitation that sat on his desk with a sad smile. It was so wonderful to see the young prince and princess wed, it was like something out of a fairy tale... A fairy tale with a lot more communist radicals and grueling civil wars than you would expect... But a fairy tale nonetheless!

Alas, the timing could not be any worse. In addition to the early dissolution of the National Court, the upcoming election made a visit to a foreign wedding political suicide, regardless of who he sent. But still, he felt a sense of duty and obligation to pay his respects in some way. He pulled up a laptop and typed a personal letter, signing and sealing it, before sending it to the newly weds. It read:

To the Monarchs of Norsos and Prydania,

It is with a heavy heart that I must let you know, both in my capacity as a politician and a free citizen of Callise, that I will be unable to attend your wedding. With the dissolution of the legislature and the upcoming election, my most important duties are here in Fontaine assisting my party and aiding my fellow citizens. However, I would be a faithless Revenist if I did not show you some courtesy on this most special of occasions. So please, accept these silver Callisean wedding collars I purchased with my own salary, as a token of good will from both Callise and from me. They are inscribed with Callic runes meant to forever enshrine the connection between the couple. I hope you find them as beautiful as every Callisean does on their wedding night.

Regards,
Leopold Dupont
Citizen of Callise

Click to expand...

The White Palace looks freshly renovated and cleaned, its exteriors looking almost ageless in the sun. The guards were all dressed in white nineteenth century uniforms with colorful trims and polished black boots, if it weren't for them toting automatic weapons you could claim they're out of their time. The guardsman who took the tip from the Imperator hands it over to the valet next to him and goes back to silent attention. Inside the throne room is massive, with more than enough space for bar and catering and to hold the ceremony. The Guardsmen were ever watchful and the servants were working quick and hard to make the ceremony ready on time. The bar and catering were already open in a limited capacity and Shamans in traditional garb were up at the altar blessing the spot with their rites and incense.

Colart was walking down the halls in a dress uniform only about fifty decades out of date, though not too unlike the guards patrolling around. Inspecting the preparations and making corrections where he saw mistakes, which there are few. It wouldn't be long before he'd find the Empress quietly at his side making him smile as he kept going.

"Shouldn't you be overseeing my security Col?" Alycia looking up to the taller man. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?" He looks down to her with a smirk. "My master of arms has it taken care of, besides.. You were panicking earlier that everything wouldn't be ready for the event and we've been preparing for days. I decided the preparations could use some hard ass."

"Do you think it'll be ready, It's my wedding and everyone attending are political heavyweights..." Colart wraps Alycia into a hug and pulls her close giving her forehead and cheek a kiss, his voice going soft and low. "I've loved you ever since I first met you, I love you like my own. The gods themselves can try and interfere but you will have your time." Colart wipes a lock of hair behind her ear. "For just your wedding and honeymoon, don't worry about politics.. Now go and get ready or you'll be late for your own day."

Alycia breaks the hug. "You sound like Auntie." eliciting a chuckle from Colart. "That's because your Auntie is a smart and wonderful woman, now go before your bridesmaids and Pashek hunt you down." With a banishing point of his finger Colart manages to shoo his Queen away.

Tobias shielded his eyes from the sun as he exited the limo, waving to the assembled crowd. It may have been December, but the sun was out. And the light reflecting off of the snow and the white stone and marble of the White Palace...it was vert bright.
"Fitting" the King thought.
He waved to the crowd again as he entered the White Palace, Rylond following him.

"Your Majesty" a guard captain said, greeting Tobias with a bow. Tobias blushed just a bit. He still felt a bit put off by foreign officials bowing to him. Still, he smiled as he began to shed his favourite grey army coat now that he was out of the cold. Rylond followed suit, removing his black trench coat.

"Thank you" Rylond replied respectfully as one of the palace staff moved to take his jacket.

"Not thanks" Tobias said as someone approached to take his coat.
"Thank you, but this is something of a lucky coat. I'd prefer to take it to my room myself."

"Of course Your Majesty" the staffer replied as the guard captain led them to their rooms where they were to prepare for the ceremony. Tobias had been to the White Palace before but he was always blown away by the majesty of it all. Absalonhöll, even under the best of circumstances, was very much steeped in Nordic aesthetics. It tended to oscillate between understated or very old fashion in design. The Palais blanc, however, was crisp, beautiful, and inspiring. He always found himself lost in admiring the marble and art on display. Usually until someone broke him out of his trance. This time it was Rylond.

"You're not taking advantage of the coat service?" he asked.

"No" Tobias chuckled.
"It's a lucky coat, like I said. I'm taking no chances."

"If it's lucky" Rylond mused, "then shouldn't it be fine?"

Tobias just raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you know I'm right" Rylond chuckled.

The two were led to their rooms and Tobias sighed, happy to have a moment alone. Alycia was busy tending to things on her end. He wouldn't see her until the ceremony. He set his coat down across a chair in the room's corner. His bags had been brought here ahead of time. The suit bag hanging on the far end of the room....he smiled. He was presently wearing a three piece grey houndstooth suit. That bag, however, contained something special. A green robe in the Thaunic style, with the fur of the wolf he'd hunted in Essalanea woven over the shoulders. It was fitting for the wedding, a ceremony of the Norsian faith. It was suggested to him that he wear a traditional Thaunic outfit in line with the old faith the Prydanians inherited from their Andrennian ancestors.
For now though? He just wanted to unwind. He'd already tossed his tie to the side when a knock on the door startled him.
"Give me a minute Rylond" he groaned.

"You think Rylond's doing anything else but downing the bottle of complementary wine?" said the voice from the other side of the door. Tobias' deep green eyes lit up as he swung the door open.

"William!" he exclaimed, hugging him tight.

"Toby" William chuckled, patting the King on the back with a chuckle.
"We talk nearly every day. I didn't think you'd miss me that much" he added.

"It's not the same, I miss seeing you" Tobias replied, his mood instantly elevated. He invited William in, closing the door behind him. He was giddy. William had raised him, practically. He hadn't seen him, however, since he'd been sent to Sil Dorsett as Prydania's ambassador to the Principality.
"You look good, how's Norvalle treating you?"

"It's sunny and the wine is excellent" William laughed as he took a seat.
"How are you feeling?"

"Nervous" Tobias replied, sitting down on the end of the bed.

"I didn't think it'd be anything else" William said with a nod.
"You know, it's funny..."

"What's funny?"

William paused. He was never sure how much of this story he'd ever tell Tobias. On this day though? It was probably time to open up about it.
"You remember, back during the war, the fights we'd have?"

"Yeah" Tobias said with a chuckle and blush.
"I'm sorry about all of that by the way..."

William just held up a hand.
"No, no, you don't need to do that. It's just that you always resisted my relationship advice."

"Krista?" Tobias asked softly. William sighed.

"I was wrong Toby. I thought that using the prospect of marrying off a daughter to the heir to the Prydanian throne for some foreign monarch would be a way to get the FNU support. I shouldn't have done it, and I felt bad doing it."
Tobias nodded and looked down for a moment.

"I know" he said quietly.

"One of the first ideas FNU Command floated, back when you were little, was Empress Katherine of Norsos' daughter" he said with a grin as Tobias perked up.
"She had a daughter, not too much younger than you...but we decided that forging ties with fascists would play into the Syndicalists' hands propaganda-wise. And then all of those years later that daughter proved us all wrong by deposing Katherine. And you proved us wrong by falling in love with her properly."
Tobias looked up at William, a small smile creeping across his face.

"You were always terrible at telling me what to do."

"Somehow we both managed" William smirked.
"You have no idea how proud I am, seeing you happy like this."

"You have no idea..."

"Tell me. You'll never have a better opportunity."

Tobias looked up, blushing before looking down again and he breathed deep.
"I've spent my life feeling like someone is going to try and kill me. I thought the war ending would stop it, but it didn't. I can be in the middle of Absalonhöll surrounded by Knights of the Storm, and I'll still have this feeling like just over my shoulder..." he shuddered.
"They killed everyone William. My entire family. Why wouldn't they kill me too? But then..." he smiled.
"I met her, and every moment I'm with her it's like....I'm happy. I never worry."

William stood up, beckoning Tobias to stand up too. The King followed suit. William put his hands on his shoulders, smiling.
"You have no idea how happy I am to see you like this" he said.
"So rather than explain it?" he hugged the King tight.
"I'll just tell you that you make me proud."
Tobias blushed again looking down, though he was smiling this time.
"I have to say" William said in a mocked hurt tone, "that I'm a bit hurt that you never felt completely safe with me."

"The same people who were trying to kill me were trying to kill you" Tobias replied with a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, I suppose they were, weren't they? I won't keep you. I just wanted to see you before the ceremony."

"You can see me anytime you like William" Tobias replied, hugging him once more. He remembered a moment. Shortly after the Syndicalist Coup. He was just a child of seven at the time...and he remembered being utterly consumed by sadness. Save for the fact that he had William to sit by him as he fell asleep. He squeezed his surrogate father once more.
"Now head on out and save everyone from Magnus' train stories."

William patted the King's arm.
"We'll catch up later. Enjoy your wedding day."

Tobias shed the sports jacket and vest after William left, tossing himself onto the bed. His stomach danced with nerves, but he smiled. He couldn't wait.

The Syrixian and Goyanean delegations entered the wedding venue together, as was to be expected at a celebratory function to which they were both attending. Rajesh, however, was not talking to Anthony. He was walking, of course, but he was deep in thought all the same. This was the largest international event since the Empire's bimillennial, and for good reason.

Firstly, the wedding of Tobias and Alycia was to unite two of Craviter's royal families and solidify a bond between the bride and groom built on love, a type of bond extremely uncommon in international royal marriages until the most recent couple of centuries. That was, in turn, part of why he was there - it was a courtesy to both Toby and Alycia, whom he had met in April. To Toby he had given personal support, and someone new amongst Craviter's cavalcade of monarchs for him to know personally. That was something he did not normally grant, in general.

But, alongside the personal shift taking place, there was also a political shift to be found. He knew Norsos wanted to grow its own power on the world stage. With Prydania by its side, Norsos was well on its way to forming a 'Third Way' between Pataliputra and Bergum, and nations like Essalanea, Korova, and of course Prydania were eating it up. This was a change that had potential upsides for both the Malorians and the Empire.

Norsos was part of the Bergum Pact and the Saittas were also related to the Severyns, so provided Maloria played its cards right, they could easily keep Norsos from going fully lone wolf, but if they couldn't, it would be an obvious plus for the Empire, which already had a fruitful relationship with Norsos in its own right. The Norsians were much easier to work with than the Malorians, and it was to Alycia in April that he had given political support. A resurgent Norsos had Pataliputra's support.

Of course, however, there were also downsides. Norsos' increased influence in Craviterean politics would, in turn, sap influence from both spheres. It was a gamble if there ever was one, but he had personally calculated the game theory on the-

Suddenly, he felt a tap on the shoulder and snapped out of his inner monologue, turning his head. It was Anthony.

"Let me take a wild guess. You're thinking about the politics again?"

"You get me every time, Tony. Every damn time."

"You realize we're at a wedding, right? Of course this is an event of international importance. You're not wrong. We all know that. But you need to lighten up. You can analyze after. There are tons of VIPs from all over the world here, including many heads of state and heads of government, and I highly doubt they're thinking as intensely about this as you are right now."

"I mean, sure, but at the same time, when at events like this you have to be mindful of-"

Anthony turned fully, looking Rajesh square in the eye, though in a way where Rajesh knew he meant well with whatever he was about to say. "Ray, I say this as your friend, and as someone representing my own country at this event. You're a workaholic. Give it a break for once."

"I know you have a dream. You have a 'grand plan'." he continued. "So do the Malorians. But knowing the Severyns, Marten and Grace are most likely not thinking about that kind of stuff right now. Their relative is getting married."

"Forget the politics, Ray. Forget strategic interests, forget the game theory calculations you do in your head. This is a celebration. We're here to party like we just won the national championship. Events like this and, might I add, the one you hosted just this past April, help folks like us to unwind, if anything."

Rajesh sighed, and then smirked. "You're right. I shouldn't think about that kind of stuff as much. Let's make the most of today."

Anthony smiled. The two continued walking, at the head of their delegations, towards the rest of the assembled guests. Gaiseric Volkmann, Anegrette of Kimbri, Imperator Augustus, Arthur Tatarov, Adrian Zima, the former Marquis of Vivanco, Diego II of Highton, a smattering of Dorsettians and Lawstonians, Santonian Princes Thibault-Maximilian and Timothée-Brice and their uncle Duke Thibault; all of them were there.

He also, however, noticed Volodymyr Svrtan and Sfan K'ter. He smirked again. This could become interesting.

-----

Posted with permission and collaboration from @Goyanes.

It had been a while since Arthur and Adrian had left the park but finally they had almost arrived at the White Palace. To Adrian the sight was enamouring, the Palace was a fairytale creation that shone bright in the stark winter sunlight. A gorgeous creation. Arthur however felt different. While he agreed it looked spectacular, he could only think of the sheer decadence of it all. Of what the wasteful way of life of those living inside was stealing from the people of Astissa, and Norsos as a whole.
Arthur understood the irony in his thoughts though, he ruled from one of the largest palaces in the world, built from the blood money of mercantilism centuries ago. Although it was still the home of an even larger refugee camp. The only reason he hadn’t ordered the entire palace’s demolition was to preserve what little cultural identity Korova had left.

“Stop it Arthur.” Adrian asked,

“Stop what?”

“Brooding about how much you hate this place, your face is making it obvious.”

“I don’t hate it. I just wish it didn’t exist!”

“Oh my god.”
“Just remember, you can’t complain about it around anyone. You’re blind, they don’t know you can see.”

“I can’t see though.”

“I don’t remember your weird metaphysical description for whatever it is, alright!”, Adrian quipped while rolling his eyes,

“I’ll try, it’s hard to remember sometimes though.”

“If you forget you’ll get a time out!” Adrian joked,

“Pah, try that and I’ll trip you up in front of Rajesh or something. A little magic trick” Arthur responded while playfully winking,

“You wouldn’t!”, the pair laughed a little,

“I don’t think they’d need you to trip over to look at us though”, Arthur looked up and down himself and Adrian pointing out how unusually dressed they were for the event.

Arthur had thrown the concept of a typical suit away and was wearing medium-grey checkered trousers with a black turtleneck tucked into it, at the very least they had a blazer jacket on top. Even if it was bright red, and sat halfway down his arms. Adrian wasn’t much more traditional either, wearing a modern suit with the floral design of a 1960’s settee. It was as if they were heading to an arts gala instead of a wedding.

“Im sure Toby won’t mind, maybe he’s wearing something unusual too.” Adrian jested, before interrupted by a Norsic representative approaching them to bring them to where the rest of the guests had begun to congregate.

Sfan, Kiara, and Tanśa had arrived rather early compared to many of the other guests, having made sure to arrive before the crowds outside the palace got too thick - the Stan Yera was likely not a popular nation among the Norsitic people, and three of the leading individuals in the Stan Yera showing up to a wedding would likely draw more negative attention than was worth in a bustling crowd, regardless of the security presence. Sfan had chosen a rather understated charcoal suit paired with a crimson tie, but had a traditional and vibrant Yeran blanket wrapped around his legs. Tanśa and Kiara had almost matching suits and bow-ties, though Kiara had a shawl wrapped around her head in the typical fashion of the northern Yeran, held in place by a silver broach depicting the Unifier's shield, while Tanśa had chosen a more modern looking scarf.

As the three inspected their surroundings, Tanśa muttered to the other two in Yeran, "The palace is too ostentatious for me, all shiny and bright - it's like someone made it out of snow"

Kiara raised her eyebrow, "You're not wrong. Southerners have a habit of showing off with their architecture."

Sfan stifled a chuckle, reprimanding them, "I'm glad you two chose to keep your criticisms in our tongue, or you'd start a diplomatic incident depending on how this wedding goes"

Seeing Arthur and his partner walk in, Sfan had to stifle further chuckles at their eccentric fashion, flying in the face of all the suits and tuxedos worn by other guests. He opted to smile broadly and wave in the couple's direction. The arrival of Rajesh and Anthony was less pleasing to him, but Sfan paid them little heed.

Arthur saw Sfan’s wave in the corner of his vision and walked over with haste, leaving Adrian to handle the farewells to the representative. As he approached he leant down and hugged Sfan, looking up at Kiara with a smile after a brief moment. He hadn’t met Tansa before but gave them a polite nod.

“Nastavnik, Kiara, it's been so long since you last came to Korovka!” Arthur said,
“Ranun is great but he lacks your diligence.” he added, directing it towards Kiara.

Adrian had now caught up displaying a similar level of glee at the sight of the trio, if not more having had spent more time with Kiara than Arthur had. While Arthur had been across the globe in Pavyat (Sasten), Adrian had been supporting Kiara’s rehabilitation efforts before she was replaced by Ranun. One could almost miss those days, were it not the life-threatening dangers on every side.

“It’s nice to see you again Sfan and Kiara. You must be Tansa?” Adrian asked,

But despite the danger, their friends and allies would never be forgotten.

The clan leaders entered the great hall, Gaiseric grinned as their arrival was met with a mixture of bewilderment and fascination. With him were all the representatives of the great clans, Helbrandt of the Karg, Magnar of the Hureg, Arno of the Rugen and of course Anegrette of Kimbri. Together they stood out, their furs, tattoos and braids all marking them as outsiders, Gaiseric was enjoying every minute of it, he had brought Essalanea out of isolation and was now showing the clans to the world.

"Damn unhorsed love to stare don't they" Helbrandt growled irritably, of all the clan leaders he was perhaps the most unused to foreigners

"Well if you think the stares they are giving us now are bad, wait till they see the gifts" Gaiseric replied with a knowing smile

The doors opened and the chill air filled with the bleating sound of animals. A goat, horse, yak, sheep and a cow were all lead into the hallway by Volkmann handlers. the animals had garlands of steppe flowers about their necks and saddlebags swayed at the animal's sides, weighed down by gifts of weaponry, jewels and ale. It was an ancient tradition, those who won respect amongst the Essalaneans were gifted with the means to form their own clans. It was a little on the nose, but Gaiseric wanted to greet Tobias's union with the right spirit.

"So where do we put these then?!" Alric asked as he slid from the horse's saddle and pulled an apple from his pack

18 October 2019
3:48 pm
On a Friday
Akrafjall, Prydania

The Royal motorcade came to stop before the Thaunic temple as navy-clad Knights of the Storm poured out to secure the area as a precaution. The threat of Syndicalists lurking around every corner was gone, and Akrafjall was one of the last places you'd find any anyway. Still, the Knights were charged with the King's safety. And they were going to do their job.
In many ways Akrafjall looked like any rural Prydanian town. Reddish brick, white paint, cobblestone streets that gave way to a paved main street that connected to the highway. And scars of the Civil War, with parts of the central street still closed off due to errant rocket blasts. The school was looking better though. The old burnt out building having been torn down as construction crews worked to complete a new facility. The children of the town were being taught at the local Thuanic temple in the meantime.
Akrafjall was a small town, nestled inland just to the northwest of Eiderwig, in the heart of what was called "the Valley of Plenty." It was also the home to most of Prydania's Thaunics, numbering just over 90,000 people. And it was the temple that King Tobias had come to visit.

He emerged from the armoured SUV to meet the assembled crowd. The Thaunics had remained steadfastly loyal to the monarchy during the Civil War, and it had cost them dearly. Just over half their number had died thanks to Syndicalist People's Militia or the labour camps. Still, the community persevered along with everyone else. Tobias smiled and waved to the crowd as he looked around. Akrafjall had a reputation among some, as sort of an unknown place. In reality? It was very average looking. One could probably not even tell it was a Thaunic community unless one looked deeply. And only then the lack of the Messianist cross on the temple would be the only overt sign. Tobias had himself visited the town during the Civil War. He was less nervous and more curious to see what the Thaunic Druids had in store for him.

Tobias entered the temple alone as the Knights of the Storm stood guard at the entrance. The temple may have looked unremarkable on the outside, but it was truly something unique on the inside. Old runes were illuminated by open flames, kept for ceremonial reasons even after the installation of electric lighting. The flames were burning something, Tobias couldn't place the smell exactly, but it just added to the quiet and special feeling of this place.

"Tovijas Scylfing Loðbrók, Third of his Name, Champion of Jägdar, Stormlord and King of Prydania, I welcome you" Ægir Hjort, the Archdeacon of Akrafjall's Thaunics, declared as he welcomed the King, bowing his head in respect. He was flanked by a number of other Thaunic Druids from across the region. It was something of an event when the King came, and they were all here to show their respect.
Tobias smiled, with a soft nod. The Thaunics insisted on using the old faith's version of the Royal titles, and he was not inclined to dissuade them, even if some of the more adamant Messianists scoffed at it.

"Thank you Archdeacon Hjort" Tobias replied.
"It's always an honour to visit the old faith. I'm happy to see Akrafjall is doing better now than it was last time I was here."

"The town is improving a bit every day" the old Priest replied with a smile.
"They say the school will be ready by the spring. It's a blessing to have the children here to learn, but I admit I will relish the quiet when the school's finished" he said with a laugh.

"I can imagine" Tobias chuckled. This temple was ransacked by the Syndicalists, and only slowly rededicated after it was liberated by the FNU. It hadn't known true normalcy in some time.
"You informed my Steward that the project we had discussed was completed."

"Yes Your Majesty, please, come this way." The Archdeacon and his peers turned and led the King into the temple.
"It honours us that you'd come to us to find ways to honour the old faith with your wedding to Empress Alycia" Hjort said as they walked.

Tobias smiled but didn't respond right away. He wasn't sure what to say, exactly. His reasons had been complex. Politically advantageous, culturally sensitive, and of course...it felt right. It just felt right based on his own experiences during the War. That was what he ended up saying.
"It just felt like the right decision."

The Archdeacon and Druids led him into a back room, a nicely arranged if sparse conference room. The bookshelves were filled with some Thaunic texts but also binders that read "Expense Reports" and "Order Sheets." Old faith, new faith, it didn't matter. Everyone had to go through the motions of bureaucracy.

There was a closet next to the shelves that Hjort opened, and removed a rather impressive looking green robe. Silver stitching along the cuffs and bottom danced against the dark green, creating patterns of oak leaves. Tobias placed his hand on the robe, moving to the hood, which had brown leather inserts stitched into the fabric. His hand moved down...there it was. The dark grey pelt of the wolf he'd killed a month ago in Essalanea. He stroked the fur for a moment.

"An impressive kill, Your Majesty" Hjort commented.

"Thank you" Tobias replied.
"I've been hunting since I was fourteen. Still, I've never seen anything quite like an Essalanean wolf in the wild."

"The spirit of Jägdar has always been close to your family" the Archdeacon chuckled. Tobias returned the soft laugh. He wasn't ready to share what he'd experienced. Not even with Thaunic Druids. Not yet.
"Anyway it's complete" Hjort explained. "Expertly stitched, in accordance with the traditional design and methods. We even employed a gentleman from Darrow, of exceptional skill, for the leather work."

"It looks beautiful. I've seen pictures in books but nothing like this in person."

"It's not every day a King comes to us to have something made for an occasion like this. And there is something else."

"Oh?" Tobias was curious. They'd only every discussed the robe and working the pelt into it.

Hjort pulled a box from the closet, setting it on the table. He opened it slowly and pulled out something truly extraordinary. It was a mask made from a blackened stag's skull, with green twill wrapped around the antlers' base. The same twill connected black eagle feathers to the back.
"For you, Your Majesty."

"I..." Tobias looked the mask over. It was unnerving yet powerful and calming at once.
"I thought only clergy could wear these."

"You are a King. Messianist King perhaps" Hjort chuckled, "but our King none the less. You have the right to such a mask for a ceremony such as a wedding, if you so desire. As a Loðbrók you most certainly have the right to wear the stag. Jägdar won't mind, I don't think" the Archdeacon replied with a friendly smile.
Tobias picked the mask up carefully, examining it. It was dark, yet green. Dead, yet hinting at teeming life. He felt, for a brief moment, like he was in that forest of his dreams....

"Thank you Archdeacon Hjort, Assembled Druids. Thank you for the gifts. I look forward to wearing them on my wedding day."

---

7 December 2019
1:17 pm
On a Saturday
Astissa, Norsos

Tobias had just slipped on a pair of dark grey pants made from the same heavy yet soft fabric as the robe, and slipped over a loose fitting white shirt that some might find more fitting for a Renaissance festival. The soft leather boots added to the look, but it was by design. It was a very traditional outfit. He began with the inner robe, a lighter hoodless dark grey garment. Next, a silver cross he'd been given by the Ladefoged family, or what was left of them. His mother's family. He tightened the leather belt around his waist and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like some sort of monk. He smirked at himself before smiling, running his hand through his hair before he leaned forward on the dresser with his elbows. He thought about everyone who was here and sighed. He wouldn't have minded if he and Alycia had been married in a private ceremony, but no...as nervous as he was, no. He'd been crowned in a mostly empty half-desecrated church. This time...there wouldn't be any hiding. He'd express his love to his fiance before the whole world.

He donned the green outer robe, the hood resting back, against the pelt of the wolf over the shoulders. It was a bit warm, but not uncomfortably so. The snow outside helped set the mood anyway. He fastened the robe closed, and pulled the box that contained the stag mask from his luggage. He looked into it...there was something primeval about it. Whether or not the generations that came before watched the living wasn't something he was convinced of, even with his own experiences. Still, the sense of some form of continuity with an old past of his house, his family, his clan, it was calming. He set it down on the dresser. It wasn't quite time for him yet. He pulled an old pulp novel from his luggage and sat down, re-reading an old favourite to pass the time.

....
Jadzia was excited for the wedding. Tobias and Alycia made such an adorable couple.

Around her were many people dressed in the finery, each with an air of importance and power. It made her nervous. She’d quietly snuck two glasses of champagne to help with the anxiety of it all.

She marveled at the dresses of all the woman, at the opulence of their fineries. Their silks and furs and jewelry. Each likely made by a famous designer.

And even though she had much more humble garb, she didn’t feel any less for wearing it. She was wearing a traditional festive dress of Arrandal. She wore a blouse decorated with an embroidered floral pattern, a layered black and white skirt with bright ornamental stripping of folk knots, and a small jacket vest with the Arrandalian flag emblazoned on the left breast. A red belt was tied around the waist with bright yellow tassels at the end, and her hair was tied up in a wreath of marigolds and red sunflowers.

She saw the leaders of Essalanea, recognizing Gaiseric from a foreign relations briefing. Across the room she saw the emperor of Syrixia, though she didn’t recognize the tall regal man next to him, though suspected it was the Goyanian Emperor. It was all so exciting to be in a room with so many world leaders.

She had brought a gift for the happy couple, but she was unsure where to put it. So she kept it securely underneath her arm so it would be safe. Best not to leave two finely crafted argent silver daggers just lying around. And if any vampires happened to attack, she also had another dagger secured to her upper thigh.

After a few hours high in the air, the Vivanquians finally arrived to their destination, and a light traffic jam. The guardsmen of the two vivanquian personalities stayed out of the wedding, but ony because they wanted to. Only The Lady would know how much did the emeritus insist on them to come aswell, but how their "professionalism" didn't allow them to.

The short, balding man with the short beard and his stricking casual clothings walked inside with a warm smile alongside the tall, moustched man with a dull yet impeccable suit. They both looked around in awe at how everyone had come, and how the guards were. Such a wonderful view! Like a time travel, but with much more floriture and much less risk of disease.

"I told you sir to prepate a more fitting suit..." Rudolph whispered to the emeritus.
"Eh, luxury is not my thing. And what's wrong with my clothes?"
"This is a wedding. Nay, a royal one..."
"Ah, you worry too much about these things. What could possibly go wrong? Besides, I have a pin!"

The man chuckled as he showed a small pin on his chest that was the Marquesite's emblem. It wasn't too big, but it was there.

"If we get in any trouble, your son will be mad at you, or worse..."
"Worse? What do you mean?"
"That I get removed from office!"
"Bah! You really worry too much. C'mon, let's just enjoy this. Also, did you bring the...?"
"Yes, sir."

The tall man carried what seemed to be an ellaborate wooden box that had many natural details. It was obviously handcrafted, an artesanal work by Petria's most renowed artist; Filemón Torremolina, sculpturer and woodworker. Inside of the box there was a small figurine, not much bigger than the palm of a hand, but the details that it held were inconcevieble, of the two soon to be husband and wife.

Sfan gently pried Arthur off of him, his face somewhere between paternal kindliness and wry amusement, "Arthur, my child, I have an image to uphold! You can't just go around hugging every old autocratic fogey you see"

Kiara smiled down at Arthur, her pronounced accent evident as always, "Nułeyg'an¹ Tatarov, I have an army to manage, yes? The idea of being in Korova is good, but I cannot. I am sure Ambassador ƛemsan is doing quite fine for his newness to... what is the word ľâ gweľu²... administration. But yes, it is nice to see you and Adrian again."

Tanśa smiled politely, though not as warmly as the other two, "I am Tanśa, yes. It is a pleasure to meet the young King Arthur" He emphasized the correct pronunciation of the last syllable of his name with perhaps some disgruntlement, but his tone otherwise seemed genuine.

Lailani and Marilag are both wearing the traditional baro't saya dress with short butterfly sleeves over their light brown skin. Decorated in richly-embroidered patterns, especially the sleeves, using the different shapes of flowers and leaves. White in accordance with the continental customs on weddings. Not much on jewelry. Lailani only has a pearl necklace and Marilag put on a golden tribal armlet. If it counts, they also brought their designer hand purses with them. It's better, lighter than the usual fans gilded or encrusted with precious rocks.

Besides, who'd look at a couple of middle-aged women? A married couple, even, in Craviter? They must be an oddity in these parts.

Lailani felt out of place, and certainly does her wife Marilag by the feeling she's giving with that tight grip she got on Lailani's shoulder. They're surrounded by heads of state and government. Lailani was sure this was supposed to be a royal wedding, not a political summit. Even the Emperor of Syrixia and the Prime Minister of Sil Dorsett is here, then the Tiran and the Marquis...

Well, not quite. Most of them are still royalty.

She mostly anticipated attendance from ambassadors and lesser members of foreign royal families. In the middle of these dignitaries above the station of minister plenipotentiary, Lailani is just a diplomat.

Regardless, she should also remember she was Chancellor. That should count for something to her, if not to anyone.

"Lailani!"

Petrikov?

"Why are you here? You're supposed to be running the Embassy while I'm gone." Lailani queried. Something must have happened.

"It's a mistake!" Petrikov said, gasping for a moment of breath.

Lailani looked at Marilag, raising eyebrows at each other.

Petrikov continued, taking one last gulp of air. "T-T-The paintings are...a mistake."

Lailani put her finger on his lips. She whispers, "If this is the case, then be quiet. The wedding hasn't begun and we certainly don't want to make a scene."

Marilag nodded. "Yes... Why didn't you tell us before? We've had meetings for the past six months."

"I wasn't sober..." Petrikov sounded like he wanted to mutter.

Lailani snorted. "Pft. You don't seem sober all the time."

"Anyways! There are certain...qualities of the paintings we haven't seriously considered...inappropriate. It is most likely that the gift will not be...received as we believed to expect."

"Then what are we supposed to have believed to expect?" Lailani asked.

Marilag nodded at Lailani. "Yes. We've mitigated that. Considerations have been made and many things were proposed. They've been reasonably crossed out and we deliberated on the two paintings."

"Not to mention," Lailani says to add, "the gift has already been commissioned, paid for by private donations. Clearance from both DOFA and Cabinet Office, fully in accordance with established provisions laid out in the Educational and Cultural Exchanges Act. It's also excluded from regulations in the Code of Good Governance."

Petrikov shook his head and took his phone. He dialed on it and raised it to his ear.

"I'm going to call the housekeeper. The paintings haven't been sent here yet. We can still replace them."

Lailani sighed and closed her eyes. "Look, there's a standard procedure for this. You don't need to make a fuss about this."

"Procedure? What procedure?"

A muffled voice emanated from the phone.

"No, I'm not talking to you." Petrikov answered the housekeeper.

Lailani grinned. There's no need for this, really. But, for the young man's sake and for the good of the country she's trying to represent here, she'll have to reassure him and get him back where he is needed before this gets out of hand.

"If the gift unintentionally does become an inducement to influence one's...impartial decision, in the unlikely probability, that they'd seek receipt and disposition of said gift, then we have two available responses. Firstly, if the gift of course was accepted without any sort of problem, we say it's a gift from the Republic of Lawston."

Petrikov nodded slowly. "And...if it's not?"

"Then we can say it's a gift from the Lawstoner business communities in Norsos and Prydania. That way, the government and the mission is absolved and secure from any undesired reaction."

Both Petrikov and Marilag widened their eyes at Lailani.

Marilag leaned on Lailani. "Umm. Dear...wouldn't that hurt the investors? These businessmen?

Lailani smiled at Lailani. "You forget, honey. We're Lawstoners. We're culturally stingy. If they receive backlash, one which would result in major loss of potential profit and current assets, they'd rather pull out of the venture rather than try and fix the problem. I'm sure they'd be delighted...afterwards."

"Alright, alright." Petrikov looked at ease, but not at all better with that constant foot tapping and his free fist against his waist. He is still on the phone, but is the housekeeper still there?

"Maybe, you know, we could add another one to the paintings. Just so we could have some guarantee." Petrikov...actually has an interesting idea, but is it possible?

Lailani perched her chin on her knuckles. "How are we going to give another one? We need Cabinet approval, there's a legal process, and we have to make sure it's excluded from the Good Governance Code."

"It's already excluded from the Good Governance Code." Marilag said, sighing. "We're giving a gift to a head of state. Two, in fact, and they're going to be married."

Lailani snapped her fingers.

"Actually! There's a way in the Gifts and Decorations Act... In case of emergency, such as repair or loss of gifts overseas during an important state event, government ministers or ministers plenipotentiary are authorized by law to act on it immediately. It's to prevent any disruption to foreign policy and protect existing relations."

"Yes, but to repair what?" Marilag countered.

"Morale and mental damages." Petrikov smiled widely, either ready to crack or celebrate. "Whatever it is, we'll make up something later. We need to do this now."

"Yeah..." Marilag looked up, deep in thought. "I remember...in the basement...we have two paintings, a fine dinnerware set, and a statue. There could be more."

"Wait, where did these come from?" Lailani asked.

Petrikov answers, "Parting gifts from cultural attachés."

"Ah...those weirdos we usually get every month or so." Lailani nodded fervently.

Marilag elbowed Lailani on her side. "You mean writers, painters, and artists, dear."

Lailani shrugged. "Aren't they all the same?"

"Ssh! The housekeeper is going to describe to us what the paintings look like..."

Lailani and Marilag watched as Petrikov stared his eyes absently, pointlessly behind them, somewhere to put his focus. He's got a lot of nervous energy to redirect, he couldn't stop tapping his foot.

"...It's a doe and a fawn, drinking water from a stream...about to be...mauled by a lunging wolf. There's a tag on...the bottom of the frame. It reads...'For Free Mothers and Children Everywhere'...by Jocs Vibas."

Definitely not. Lailani and Marilag indicated it by just staring down Petrikov.

"What's the other painting?"

Petrikov repeated the question to the housekeeper.

"...it's a woman, in red ermine cape, dressed in a white ballgown...and wearing a crown on her long...ginger hair. She's wearing a stained blindfold and she's carrying...a rusty orb and a...bloody sword...and she's hanging from a noose...against the near pitch black darkness of what appears to be...a dungeon."

"Tell her don't even bother reading the tag." Marilag said plainly.

Petrikov did as asked. Lailani had to put her hand up to close her gaping mouth.

"Yeah..." Lailani nodded at Petrikov. "Tell her to look for the dinnerware and the statue instead."

Petrikov followed as instructed.

Lailani looked at Marilag, staring awkwardness.

"'Artists and writers', 'trying to look for inspiration?' What do you think?"

Marilag giggled. "Incitement or a political statement. Potentially lèse-majesté."

Lailani sighed, shaking her head, giggling too. "Ugh... Socialists..."

Petrikov raised his hand. He's got something from the housekeeper.

"She says she found commemorative plates from Independence Golden Jubilee. The statue is a figure of man-"

Lailani interrupts, "Is it naked?"

"Actually. It's featureless...no face, just a head, no other details...like a stick man but thicker. There's an inscription in the base. It reads, 'The Modern Man.'"

Petrikov's face crumpled to confusion. "...What do you mean?"

"What's wrong?" Marilag asked.

"She's telling me how big it is and...I couldn't understand."

"Why?" Lailani asked.

"She's using the metric system... Now she tells me it's as big as a vending machine-"

"Just send it." Both Lailani and Marilag interrupted.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

"Alright, one for you, and one for me, cheers!" Said Nurendir as he an Vivika downed their shots. "Wow, damn." Said Vivika shaking herself out. "We haven't had that since our nights on the Steppe." Nurendir gave her a longing look. "Feels likes ages ago doesn't it?" He asked. She gave him a smile and looked out the window at the passing streets of Astissa. "Have you ever been here Nen?" She asked him. "No, never." He replied. "Although at this rate I think I'll see all of Craviter before the year is out." She gave him a chuckle. "I think we can pass on a certain few places." "I can only imagine which ones you mean." Nurendir said with a laugh. "Although most places are easy traveling compared to Essalanea." She turned back at him from the window. "For you maybe. I swear sometimes I'd rather face down wolves than deal with your world." Nurendir smiled and put his hand on hers. "It'll be our world soon." Vivika looked back out the window. "Well...I'll definitely need more alcohol then." "That's the spirit!" Nurendir said as he poured for them again.

By the time the car rolled up to the White Palace both Nurendir and Vivika were feeling their pre wedding indulgence, but were determined to keep it together. Nurendir stepped out first. Clad in the silver and black of his Imperial Regalia. He would have been the picture of an Alnarian Royal were it not for the fur cape he wore. An heirloom of his time on the steppe, and an adornment fashioned for him by Vivika. Most striking however was his crown that sat lightly on his head, and shone deep in the light of the day. He began to make his way to Vivika's door, but she was already out. Not caring much for the usual chivalry of these kinds of events. Like Nurendir she was dressed in two worlds. She wore the traditional garb of the Kimbri, with a short black cloak fastened by a deep silver broach in the fashion of the Sun. A gift from Nurendir. The couple walked up the steps on somewhat of a zigzag, and into the palace.

With him Nurendir had brought two bottles of Alnarian Spirits. One as a gift for Tobias, and one as a gift to Magnar whom he had long hoped to see since their parting at the Syrixian Bimillenium. It was not a grand gift perhaps, but to Nurendir the gift of conversation and company brought by a good bottle was worth more than all the glittering things of this world. Vivika too had brought the couple a gift. For them she had sown a banner of the Wolf and Stag intertwined. It was a beautiful thing of the colors of the Houses Lothbrok and Saitta. In it was wrapped a Skandan rifle, modified in the style of the Kimbri. They had arrived somewhat behind the main body of guests, and found the great hall was packed with all the usual suspects of these royal gatherings. Nurendir saw no less than a dozen faces he had recognized from previous grand events. To him this was a good thing however. To Nurendir, each one of these events was an opportunity for Eras to become that much more connected. Vivika would have been more weary of the event than her partner were it not for the drink running through her veins. It was helping her endeavor to have a good time. She looked over the crowd at all the people she would have to meet and smile at if she was to be with Nurendir, luckily her train of thought was interrupted by Nurendir shouting. "Magnar!" He yelled. "I brought you a drink!"

Being driven straight to the White Palace from her comfortable Astissa villa, Grace stared out of the tinted window at the passing buildings. Despite it being the capital of a close ally and owning a home there, she had only been to Astissa a few times. Even though she had nothing to be nervous about, she twisted her ring in a fidget.

Her husband broke her out of the slight trance, lacing his hand into hers.

“Is everything alright?” Marten asked, looking down at her, perceptive of her concern.

Grace turned her head to look back at him, “Yes. I’m just… nervous on Alycia's behalf, and-”

“Not on Toby’s, though?” said the Emperor, in a comical jab.

After a chuckle, she responded, “On Toby’s behalf too, of course. I just hope everything goes right. I mean- everything will go right, I’m sure, but…” Grace sighed, “Nevermind.”

Marten squeezed her hand lightly, “I know what you mean. Everything has been well taken care of.”

The car halted at the steps in front of the palace, and the driver got out, walking around the back of the car and opening the door for the pair. Grace stepped out first and turned to wait for her husband, who made his way across her seat and out.

Slightly-fashionably late, arm in arm, they made their way up and entered the venue.

Grace was dressed in an ankle-length, plain, navy blue cocktail dress with a thin gold band as a belt, and gold ankle-strap heels. In contrast to the simplicity of her dress, her long hair was done up extravagantly, coming down in big curls, and pinned occasionally by gold and silver clips. Lastly, she had diamond stud earrings, matching the pagan charm that hung from her necklace.

Dressed much less grandiosely than his wife, Marten was wearing a blue sweater over a blue-striped, straight-point collar shirt. Overall this was a navy-blue suit jacket, which matched his trousers, and his wife’s dress. An odd choice for a wedding, of course, but he made the look work. He had originally planned to wear a Bergum Pact pin, given Malor-Kanada’s closeness with the bride and groom’s respective nations through that pact, but had decided against it. Today should not be about the nations, but about the people.

Interestingly, they appeared to not be carrying a gift. Grace had contacted the to-be-married couple beforehand, explaining their intention to bring the gift after the festivities had ended, as she hadn’t felt comfortable bringing something like it there.

The two stayed close together as they made their way further inside, both of them scanning the people in the room. They were familiar with many of the faces, the members of the Goyanean and Syrixian delegations, Sfan and Arthur, and Jadzia. Considering they were most familiar with the latter, they first approached the guest from Arrandal.

-

Posted with the approval to use Nog's character, Marten.

Magnar and Gaiseric saw Nurendir and Vivika approach, Magnar nodded with silent approval as he saw Nurendir’s wolf fur cloak.

“Boy is looking more Essalanean by the day!” Magnar said with a chuckle

“Well he has good taste in partners” Gaiseric said agreeably

The two men stood in companionable silence, master and student alone amongst the masses of guests. It was looking to be a good night, all they needed now was the right company and enough liquor to drown a herd of Yak.

“Tell me Magnar, do you remember much of the rice wine incident in Pataliputra?” Gaiseric asked curiously

“Getting up in the night to piss and eating a small feast the next morning, why?” Magnar replied quizzically

“Because Nurendir is carrying a bottle” Gaiseric said ominously

For his own part Gaiseric had woken up the next day with a hangover to split mountains, Sinnitic rice wine was not to be underestimated. It appeared another hangover would be greeting him come the dawn, the company was promising and it came bearing gifts.

“Hey, Magnar I brought you a drink!” Nurendir yelled jovially as he caught sight of the two chieftains

“Now that is a greeting to make my ancestors smile! We’ll make an Essalanean of you yet Alnarian!” Magnar roared in approval

Gaiseric sighed, he suspected the wedding was going to be a memorable one, at least until the oblivion of drink washed such remembrance away. He hoped pictures would be taken.

23 September 2015
7:52 pm
On a Wednesday
Haland, Prydania

Tobias could barely remember the last time he dressed formally. In his uncle's court, in all likelihood. He was just a child though. He hadn't had a single piece of clothing one could call formal wear since the Syndicalist coup. Not that it bothered him, honestly, but if there were going to be a day he'd dress up? It was today. For the first time in his life Tobias was going to meet a Royal from elsewhere. It was something of an event in his mind, to meet this Alycia Saitta-Sevryn, daughter of Empress Katherine of Norsos. He knew little about her, and only had a vague recollection of what she looked like from an old photograph years ago. He felt like he was at a disadvantage- he had no idea what the world beyond Prydania was saying- or even what it was like- but soldiers from Xentherida, Andrenne, Goyanes, and Dax had arrived in earnest. People knew of him, however uncomfortable that made him feel. Surely this Alycia would too?
And that's where he felt himself get self-conscious. He hadn't been to court since he was seven- there was no court to go to. He'd been raised, among soldiers. What would this foreign Princess think of him? He shook his head. It was a silly notion. The war had sped up, the Syndicalists had been pushed to Hadden. It seemed silly to focus on his own insecurities at a time like this, but even focusing on the realities of the world did little to calm him. What Alycia saw here, and did here, would inform what her mother did regarding the conflict. Would she remain neutral? Would she support the FNU? Norsos' support could end the war quickly, and once again Tobias felt self-conscious. This time at the prospect of him screwing up his part in an important diplomatic meeting.
He sighed and ran his hand through his freshly cut hair. He didn't have a suit, but William had told him to get his hair cut. His usual mess of blond hair trimmed down to something far more manageable. He looked at himself in the mirror as he tried to discern if the haircut was actually an improvement, but his train of thought was interrupted. It was Axle.

"The Norsian Princess is here" he said as he opened the door to Tobias' small room.
"She's meeting with William and Stig now. You should come though. It's important she meet you."
Axle didn't really care for the pressures exerted on the Prince, but he did understand them. He just tried to make himself available if the lad needed a talk. Or a drink. He seemed to be in good spirits today though. The importance around Princess Alycia's visit even managed to pull him out of the funk he fell into every September.
"And don't worry about your bloody hair. You look fine" he added before leaving, making sure he left the door open as a not so subtle hint to Tobias.

"Hey Toby, cheer up" he told himself.
"How many people get to meet an actual Princess?"

---

7 December 2019
12:29 pm
On a Saturday
Astissa, Norsos

It wasn't odd that he thought back to that day, today of all days.
As for Princesses? He'd ended up meeting four before he was married, Alycia included...and that's when he thought of Alice, and blushed a bit. Tobias had met Alycia in the fall of 2015, and he was smitten soon after. He suspected she was too, but he'd always been too nervous to pursue it. He didn't need anyone to tell him why- he was afraid of losing people. That much was clear. It was the fact that, when he was with her, he felt at peace. Yet he was also terrified of losing more loved ones...and losing the way he felt when he was around her.
Alice had come along a few years later. After the War. After the peace had been won, and the Kingdom re-founded. Princess Alice Dorsett was another wonderful woman, and thinking his own skittishness had cost him a shot at happiness with Alycia? He'd asked her on a date while she was in Prydania as part of a trade negotiation delegation. She'd turned his advances down and he, like any young man in his early 20s, felt like his romantic life was in tatters in a way that could never be repaired!

It wasn't until that Samhain celebration that Tobias and Alycia each confessed their love for each other. Maybe it was just the right time for both of them? Maybe Tobias taking part in the ceremony had allowed him some measure of peace regarding the loved ones he'd lost. Maybe it was the Merillian wine. Regardless...after first meeting Alycia Saitta-Sevryn in a war-torn hotel building's lobby he was here. In the White Palace. About to marry her. That both Astissa and Haland sat along the same coastline was fitting, in a way. His thoughts were interrupted, however, by a knock at the door.

"Your Majesty." It was the voice of the captain of the guard.
"The ceremony is about to begin."

Tobias smiled and grabbed the Thaunic ceremonial deer mask and placed it over his face, before opening the door.
"Let's go then" he said softly, the guard captain nodding before he led him to the altar.

"We come here today" Cecilie Steen, Bishop of Sarum, began "to congregate as many faiths and peoples but for one purpose. To celebrate the love of two people, their holy union, and the joined hopes of their peoples. It is with great honour that I, as Primus inter pares of the Laurenist Messianic Church of Prydania, bless this union in the name of the national church before the Messiah and God Almighty."

She stepped aside as the progression began, and Tobias found his palms sweaty. He breathed deep, through the Thaunic deer skull mask he was wearing. He found a sort of equilibrium, where his racked nerves in his palms were a mere faint buzzing. He was thankful the mask obscured him biting his lower lip for a moment.

He made his way down the aisle, scanning the faces he saw. Some he knew, others he did not. Truth be told he'd have preferred a simpler ceremony, but it didn't matter. He loved Alycia. And it didn't matter who was watching. Be it the whole world, or no one. He approached Rylond, who was serving as his best man. He just smiled and nodded and Tobias moved past him to Elodie, his fiance's sister and head of the Norsian faith.

Elodie took her place in front of Tobias, her thick robes a series of dark browns and greens adorned with flowers. Her ghostly pale arms, neck and face is covered in contrasting black markings that look like tree branches and leaves; the markings on her forehead resembles a large tree. She gave Tobias a reassuring smile.

Alycia entered guided by Pashek. She was wearing a traditional long gown in a lovely shade of dark blue matte velvet; complemented by silver crushed velvet lining. Her sleeves were made to hug her arms by black armbands gilded with silver. Alycia was fine until she started to make her way down the aisle. Her eyes wandered a bit in front of her before they locked onto Tobias. Pashek squeezed her hand reassuringly as it started to tremble a bit. In spite of her nerves she couldn't help but smile brightly, for the first time in years she was genuinely scared and yet without a care. A part of her was hoping for this ever since the Samhain Celebration. Pashek let go of her hand as she stepped up to the altar, she looked to her sister then to Tobias before gently lifting up his mask with both hands.

"We are gathered here today," Elodie began. "To celebrate the joining of Tobias Loðbrók and Alycia Saitta, and the strength of their love for each other; and it is strong. Love itself is strong and that is the reason we are all here today; love. Whether you hold in your hearts any gods or not, the one thing we all hold; is love in our hearts." Elodie looked around the audience as she continued to address them. "And today we can celebrate that together," She looked to Alycia and Tobias. "And we can celebrate their love for one another." Elodie looked to Alycia. "The Gods no matter who they are celebrate freedom and revelry, do you Alycia come here of your own freedom and with joy in your heart?" "I do." Elodie looked to Tobias. "And do you, Tobias come here of your own freedom and with joy in your heart?"

Tobias smiled as the mask was removed, lowering his head just a moment as his fiance lifted his mask. He heard Elodie speak, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Alycia. All of the nerves and worries...the fear...it melted down his back, feeling a sense of relief he'd felt so rarely in his life. Elodie's voice became a calming song that helped him relax. He thought back to Haland, and when he first met Alycia. How he felt so...unworthy of meeting her, but how quickly they'd connected. And how happy just being here with her made him feel. Elodie asked him if he came here of his own freedom with joy in heart, and he nodded. "I do" he said firmly, his eyes tranquil for one of the few times in his life.

"While Marriage is a sacred and serious tradition." Elodie continued again. "It will bring tremendous Joy, married life will be full of surprises, adventures and memories; good and bad. When Tobias and Alycia finalize this union, they will begin a new life of partnership, one defined by shared hopes, dreams, and successes." Elodie looked to the couple again.

"Tobias and Alycia, as you learn to live together you will face many challenges that will help you grow. These challenges may dishearten you and make you question, spend time together doing what makes your life precious. Cooperate with each other, always make time to laugh together and never lose appreciation for the love that you both share. Remember to adhere and cherish the bonds and vows you will both make today. Find strength in each other and give hope to one another and no challenge will ever defeat you. The strength of your bond will give you protection to life's difficulties, always make your relationship a priority, and continue to nurture one another. You may now take hands."

Alycia reached out and took both of Tobias' hands and held them in front of them, her hands were still trembling a little bit but holding his hands helped put her at ease. Elodie began to speak again.
"On this holy day I bear witness to these matrimonial proceedings, I shall now finalize the sacred covenant you enter into on this day. The rites of marriage are sacred and ancient institutions, important rituals that binds two people together for the rest of their days. Today, as you form this union, you’re choosing to take vows that is as sacred today the same as it was to our ancestors."

Elodie took a step back taking the large medallion that was hidden under her robes and held it above her head in a tight grasp. "Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be a shelter for the other, Now you will fear no blizzard, for each of you will be warmth to the other. Now there will be no loneliness, for each of you will be a companion to the other.. Sagiila, daughter of Dalagni the All Father and Cavaria the Great Mother, we invoke you in all of your names, may you bear witness and bless our celebrations this day in your name. May your presence be felt as you partake and celebrate with us, hail!"

Elodie continued in the same measured voice she's had this entire ceremony. "I call again upon the Gods to witness this ceremony. I call upon Cunigni of Asdon, hallow and protect this holy stead. I call upon Aheyar and Kareia, Atesios and Rematia.. And of course I call upon Dalagni the All Father, and Cavaria the Great Mother. I call upon our ancestors to protect and guide this couple, and to partake and celebrate with us and the gods!" Elodie lowered the medallion and stepped toward the altar. Wine was poured into the ornamental chalice on the altar and she picked it up with both hands and walked towards the couple.

"Tobias and Alycia, I invite you to share this sacred wine, and like it, may your love and devotion to each other sustain and leave you without want. Tobias, you may start." Elodie holds out the filled chalice for him to take. Tobias took the chalice and drank. It was just a bit of wine, not nearly enough to have an effect, but the act of drinking itself was enough to calm him. He handed the chalice to Alycia, smiling as he looked her in the eyes. Alycia returned his gaze as she visibly relaxed, she finished the chalice and handed it back to Elodie who set it on the altar. This was the first time even Tobias saw Alycia so unguarded, soft and happy and without a care.

"You may now express your sacred vows to each other,"Elodie continued again with a softer voice now. "Tobias, you may go first one last time; as you declare your vows in the presence of the Gods, your ancestors, friends and family."

"Alycia" he began. He waited for his heart to stop racing, but it never did. And something about that was reassuring, in a way. He smiled. He wasn't going to hold back. "It's because of you I knew I had to stand tall, and not be afraid of the trials before me. It's because of you that I became not just brave, but noble. When I'm with you I feel like I'm flying high enough to see the boundless face of Eras, and the sun above reminds me that you were one of the first bright spots to illuminate what was my dark and grey world. And you remain the brightest there is."

He smiled, blushing a bit as he held Alycia by her hands. "You're so much more than that though...I love you. And that means more than anything else I could ever say" he said, his voice dropping a bit as he bowed his head, yet still smiling wide.

Alycia gave his hands a slight squeeze the blush on her pale face clear as the smile. The shakes were gone by the point she took a quiet breath. "You gave me the strength, Toby. You were the inspiration, you showed me that the darkness was not natural, not normal. You gave me the strength I needed to banish it, you saved me...You saved my people. When I am with you, everything is so much better; there is no feeling true equal." She gave his left hand a rub with her thumb. "I love you, Toby. I love you more than anything else."

When Alycia finished Elodie smiled again. " In witness of the Gods and Ancestors. Alycia, do you take Tobias to be your lawfully wedded Husband? Do you promise to support him completely and love him unconditionally, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do." Alycia responded with no hesitation. Elodie looked to Tobias.

"In witness of the Gods and Ancestors. Tobias, do you take Alycia to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to support her completely and love her unconditionally, so long as you both shall live?"

Tobias felt a certain calmness come over him, the nerves he had previously gone, yet the after-effects of their tension still lingered. His ancestors. That's what Elodie had said. And while such a sentiment usually caused him to think deeply on the family he lost? It didn't now. This wasn't the time to mourn endings. It was a time to celebrate the future.

"I do" he said, likewise without hesitation.

Elodie nodded silently "Then it is time to exchange the rings. The circle that is formed by these rings is a symbol of your love and eternal commitment to one another. May these rings forever remind you of the sacred promises you’ve made to each other here today in the company of your family and friends. In the view of your Ancestors and the Gods." Alycia's bridesmaid came up quietly and gave her Tobias' ring before stepping back away to her spot. Rylond would have to supply Tobias with Alycias ring.

"Alycia, you will go first, as is your right as a free woman." Elodie nodded for her to go ahead.
"I Alycia, give you, Tobias this ring as a symbol of my love, commitment, and the eternal vows we have made today to each other. With this ring, I am forever yours." As Alycia finished she gently slipped the silver ring onto Tobias' finger. Alycia looked back up to him giving him a warm and relieved smile.

Rylond gave Tobias Alycia's ring and stepped back. Tobias took it, looking down at the ring for a brief moment, before returning his gaze to Alycia. "I Tobias, give you, Alycia this ring as a symbol of my love, commitment, and the eternal vows we have made today to each other. With this ring, I am forever yours" he said, slipping the ring onto her finger. He felt like a massive weight had vanished from his very soul.

"By the power vested in me, I pronounce you, Tobias and Alycia as husband and wife, lawfully wedded before the Gods and the world. Tobias, you may now kiss the bride." As Elodie finished Alycia wasted no time standing on her toes, wrapping her arms around Tobias she gently pulled him into the kiss.

" Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great honor that I officially present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Tobias and Alycia Loðbrók!"


(Cowritten with Prydania)

Amias couldn’t keep the tears from his eyes. It was a beautiful ceremony and the oaths he had heard had swept across the hall. The love he could see that the newly wed couple had for each other was rich and full of life. He couldn’t help but clap gleefully. Everything had come together perfectly, it was almost a fairytale. The palace, the décor, the rituals, the couple themselves, a picturesque version of what royals should look like. Fearsome! Beautiful! Keeping to traditions! Their future together was bright.

He very subtly took out his handkerchief to clear the tears and clean up his face. It would be unbecoming to be caught sniveling at a wedding. Yet no matter how many times he wiped, the tears kept coming. So much maintaining the decorum of a King. Amias could only clasp his hands around his handkerchief like he was holding onto a loved one and wish only the best for the future for the newlyweds. He almost felt like he was watching theatre for the first time like he used to as young boy. The magic he felt in this moment was electrifying and overwhelming. It was hard to see the magic through watery eyes though. Amias still made the best effort he could.

Augustus was clapping, the ceremony was unlike anything that the Imperium has had. It was sweet, it was more personal than what Sanguine marriages are like. He clapped as everyone else did, and after when everyone was leaving he stood in the empty room with Beatrix. He began to speak with her holding her close

"They looked happy up there, no one even started a fight between the families. These other cultures seem so much more, open than ours. But now that we're alone I wanted to ask you what you thought of the wedding? Do you feel more at home among Royals yet?

She looked up at him and said: "I thought the ceremony was beautiful and Alycia was beautiful."

The two held hands as they exited the the room and entered where everyone else was Augustus took a look at Beatrix and thought to himself that one day he would marry her, however he would wait and enjoy the night with the other Royals. This was the time to meet Royals and get the Imperial name out there, but first Toby and Alycia needed their presents.

Diego smiled as the traditional Prydanian and Norsian wedding rituals took place. Many of them were somewhat alien to him, and he was fascinated. There were a few points throughout the ceremony where he wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next. He smiled again as the bride and groom exchanged rings. As this happened he was reminded of his own wedding six years prior. Six years prior, the world had been very different. It had been in the time since then that he had gotten to know his cousin. Now, his friend and cousin was having the best moment of his life.

It was a happy moment. Diego was happy for Tobias, happy for Alycia, happy for Prydania, happy for Norsos, and happy for Craviter. He loved weddings; this one was no different. He was surrounded by other world leaders and important figures, many of whom he knew but many of whom he did not. He stood and clapped with everyone else in the palace. It was a beautiful moment.

The marriage of Tobias and Alycia had attracted quite a lot of attention. Not just from political figures, but from the clergy as well. In fact the First Pontiff of the Thaunic Communion, that is, the religious body heading the Thaunic faith as a whole, had arrived just for the wedding. Samijra (III) was a well admired woman. Seen almost as a grandmother by many of the Thaunic households in Andrenne (and likely in others abroad), her very presence demanded respect. A clergy of Archdruids followed her every step, though her holy Knights of White Ash, typically seen shadowing her, were not present.

The lithe, slender woman wore a graceful, long black robe, accented with golden trim in beautiful, lacy patterns. A ram skull mask, the bone as pale as snow and with great horns as black as soot accented the outfit. Her black heels, hidden by the robe, clicked on the floor as she took every step. Grey hair could be seen tied into a neat bun on the back of her head. She and her entourage had simply been observing the couple from a distance, silently but keenly. To disturb a ceremony as beautiful as this, even if it belonged to a different faith, was sacrilege. Samijra had teared up under her mask during the ceremony, but luckily had brought an entire pack of tissues in her purse that was being carried by one of the Archdruids for her.

Of course the clergy had not been alone in attendance. The Kjellner royal family had arrived with them on the same jet and had sat in the same row as them. Lukas himself had been sniffling during the ceremony. They were far less traditionally dressed than their Thaunic counterparts, in standard tuxedos and dresses.

There was a second, smaller ceremony Samijra needed to hold for Tobias when she had the chance; that being an impromptu Thaunic coronation and the granting of this Thaunic titles as a Champion of Jägdar, Heir of Ash, and the Stormlord and King of Prydania. Tobias had never been properly coronated at a Thaunic ceremony, but being given his titles and marked with the white Ash of Thaunell (symbolic) at his own wedding ceremony by the First Pontiff was good enough. She'd have her time.

Thankfully, Petrikov was long gone when the ceremony began. Still... He won't be First Secretary at this rate when the mission finishes reorganization. A subject neither Lailani nor Marilag paid any further attention, or any attention if there was one in the first place, until the apparent inconvenience delivered in indisposition. Chemical indisposition, would be more apt a description if ever they have to answer any question about his presence here earlier. Let curious minds follow the meaning behind that, wherever it may lead them. So as long as it does not lead them back to the embassy.

But enough of trouble, and there is no trouble of any sort whatsoever. There is only beauty, love, and the promise of an intimate partnership unfolding before all gathered here. Of the royal sort, of course! Though stranger it still does seem, for two heads of state to wed and marry. Something Marilag and Lailani never thought they would witness in their professional lives.

Marilag was staring at it. The horns stood out. "Hmm. Is it me or is that an actual...? Du weißt was ich meine?"

"Rehschädel." They both said in a manner deserving of invoking jinx.

"...Ja." Marilag slowly nodded. Her eyes lingered on the peculiar mask.

Lailani clicked her tongue and glanced at Marilag. "Stag skull?"

"Doe skull? Wait..." Marilag put a finger on her lips. "Doe...a deer...a female deer-"

"Nein, nein, nein." Lailani shook her head. "Let's- Let's just say deer."

"Ja, dear." Marilag smiled as they returned their attention to this magnificent occasion. Their eyes began to scan the attire of the main event.

"That's the Empress's sister. She looks like a plant." Lailana whispered, careful not to be heard beyond her company at the height of this event.

"A flowering plant!" Marilag nodded in approval.

Lailani pointed at Marilag. "Very environmental."

"Very green!" Marilag did her best to whisper, suppressing her excitement through gritted teeth. "Adorable. Wunderbar!"

Conflicted humming, Lailani slowly nodded. "...And a bit pale."

The bride has begun her march. Among all the nations of the world, Craviterian tradition, particularly Messianist, have the most elegant of marital traditions. Its decorum so distinguished it has become quite familiar, at least in countries with a long history of immigration like Lawston—Messianist immigration to be exact. So many cultures, so many changing moods, it is no surprise two or three new things become familiar over time. With such a background...Lailani realized something.

"...Aren't they Messianist?"

Marilag glanced at Lailani. She would have looked longer and widened her eyes completely if not for the wedding about to take place.

"Of course not. The Norsians are Borseanist, remember?"

Lailani scratched her nose. "But isn't the King of Prydania...head of a Messianist church?"

"Ja... Well, if there was any problem, then they wouldn't have come this far now. Wouldn't they?"

Lailani nodded, pursing her lips in satisfaction.

At this point of the ceremony, the bride and sovereign herself deserves undivided attention. Lailani and Marilag would have either gasped or sighed at the sight of the Norsian monarch. If this day indeed will not proceed with Messianist rites, then there could be a new trendsetter in the wedding business.

"The Empress looks like a goddess." Marilag said.

Lailani nodded. "She probably might be an actual goddess."

"-In the Borseanist faith." Marilag emphasized with a nod towards Lailani.

"Ja. In Borseanism... That could explain Lèse-majesté. You can't insult a god, right?"

Marilag was about to say something, a hint of doubt in the corner of her lips, but she opted to stop talking altogether. The marriage officiant speaks... If she is... Is she?

"Is she a priest?"

Lailani kept her eyes on the ceremony. "Nein...I believe she is the Head of the Borseanist Faith."

"Ja. So the Bishop of Sarum-"

Lailani tapped Marilag on her wrist.

"Shh. I think they're exchanging vows."

If there is anything that is particularly unique from the Borseanist vows, then it must be...well...what is it? Whatever it is, it is somewhat more personal and less religious in comparison to the Messianists. Or perhaps it is simply because they have never encountered any other religious ceremony like this? Apart from the fact that two different monarchs, heads of state, symbols of two very different nations, are about to get hitched...it is just...a wedding.

Perhaps the "pomp" has been put aside from ceremony for a more humble setting. It is also not inconceivable to consider that the ceremony itself did not design a greater ceremony specified for the union of particular betters. The Borseanist faith probably does not see a difference between wealth or position in society. Perhaps that is the beauty, the uniqueness of the Borseanist rites being performed before them. All of this went through Lailani's mind until...

"While Marriage is a sacred and serious tradition. It will bring tremendous Joy, married life will be full of surprises, adventures and memories; good and bad. When Tobias and Alycia finalize this union, they will begin a new life of partnership, one defined by shared hopes, dreams, and successes."

Marilag sniffed, smiling.

"Salute to the divorce lawyers." Lailani whispered.

Marilag elbowed Lailani on her arm. "I hate you. Heehee."

Then finally came the more religious part of the ceremony they thought they were missing. The Borseanist deities are mentioned a lot more times. And a chalice. Lailani could not discern anything about it other than recalling the communal wine used in most Messianist churches.

Lailani leaned on Marilag. "Remind me to hire a local historian. Or just a tour guide."

Marilag snorted. But she nodded.

"Is this televised?" Lailani did not check.

And Marilag did not answer. Besides, she is not sure either.

Then the declarations of mutual promise that comes with most marriages. Otherwise called the public climax. Very customized, personalized, and it makes for a very meaningful conclusion. Much more relaxed than most weddings they have encountered prior to this matchless...match. Thus making this new experience more entertaining and quite educational. Thought-provoking at the very least. There is still much to learn about Norsos and Prydania in their now intertwined national stories.

Lailani would lie if she did not admit she was quite jealous. Marilag and her were married in a courthouse. It did not help that the judge was the batch top-notcher back in her law school days. Stupid four-eyes and her stupid contacts and her fake lips.

"By the power vested in me, I pronounce you, Tobias and Alycia as husband and wife, lawfully wedded before the Gods and the world. Tobias, you may now kiss the bride."

Marilag looked around. "Was jetzt? Should we clap now?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great honor that I officially present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Tobias and Alycia Loðbrók!"

Lailani looked at the Prince of Highton and clapped. Soon, everyone else did. Marilag did the same in their little flurry of confusion.

"Sieh und lern. When in doubt, follow the lead of His Highness. They might think it's protocol...or something." Lailani said.

Tobias kissed Alycia, pulling back after a moment to smile as he was lost in her eyes. He didn't even notice that the banners that were unveiled, displaying a wolf and a stag, intertwined as a heart.

He and Alycia held each other's hands as the ceremony came to a close...

---

Grand Hall, White Palace
Astissa, Norsos

Tobias and Alycia sat at the head of a long table, enjoying drink and talking to various guests. The music was alternating between a Prydanian and Norsian music. Presently the band had shifted to a traditional Bayardi tune from central Prydania. Rylond Jórvík, himself of Bayardi extraction, took the opportunity to show a bride's made a dance to the tune. William Aubyn and Magnus Brandt- both wartime allies and then later peacetime political rivals- were happily catching up.
Tobias caught the eye of a table where some of his friends from the War raised glasses of Brennivín.
"RALTE!" Fylkir Kaldbak called out.

"RALTE!" Tobias replied, calling out across the active room, holding his champagne glass up. He turned to Alycia and grinned.
"You married a Prydanian" he chuckled.
"You're going to get a Prydanian party" he said before giving her a soft kiss.

The banquet beginning signaled to Tony that it was now the time. He looked at his bodyguard, Reidar, pointing at the bartender with his eyes. He got up from the table as Toby and a friend yelled “RALTE!” at each other, the Prydanian for cheers. It was very obvious he had to begin drinking. Before leaving the table completely though he asked Claire what she wanted.
“Dukka, what do you want to drink? I’m heading to the bar with Reidar.”
“You know what I want.” She looked at him with a smirk on her face.
Tony gave her a half smile back, and they walked across the banquet hall to the bartender.
“Jaktmester, peach schnapps, and cranberry juice please. A Nærøy Iced Tea too please.”
“Yes sir.”
Tony scanned the room as the bartender began pouring and mixing behind him. His eye caught the box sitting beside his chair. Inside was a gold, railway specification pocket watch, engraved with Tobias’ personal monogram. For the groom. There was also an Osanhalt Oyster pearl necklace and a set of pearl earrings to match. For the bride. He wondered when the right time to give them to the newlyweds would be. Maybe Claire would have to tell him.
“Here you go, Sir.”
“Thank you.” He slipped a thousand-dram banknote to the bartender and an expensive cigarette.


Reidar tapped Tony on the shoulder. “Perhaps we should give the gifts before you and Claire get too hammered.”
“Good man. Just what I was thinking.”

He set down the drinks on the table, Claire looked back at him nodding in approval. She had been talking to another woman at the table.
“We’re going to take the gifts now. I don’t want to be handing these over when I can barely talk.”
“Alrighty Tony.” She picked up the boxes from the floor, they had been wrapped by her quite tastefully.

They walked over to the head table, and presented the gifts to the newlyweds. Tony began:

“To you both, I only wish the best. You both have grown so much, and now is a time you will never get back, cherish it. Before you know, you’ll just be remembering it.”

Claire handed them the gifts. “We hope you enjoy them. We love you both.”

They started off back to the table, and Tony raised his glass back and nodded at the couple from his table. The taste of his Nærøy Tea was just what he needed.

King Amias unscrewed his flask and poured more absinthe into his champagne glass. It wasn’t that the drink wasn’t good. However, he sensed he might get another fit of emotions. Better to drown them out now. The burn was a good distraction. He looked towards the newly weds at the head of their table. They were a family now. Amias took a sip. He pondered about his own family. Guess it was time to find cousin Anthony. He knew one of these Emperors had to be him. Surely he could find the man. Maybe he could ask him how to talk to people. It might help in the gift giving.

"To the newlyweds!!!" Gaiseric roared as he and Magnar clinked mugs and drank to the dregs

Gaiseric glanced over at Anegrette, she was busy conversing with other guests, a longing filled him for a moment, then he was jolted out of his sudden melancholy by Magnar pressing another ale into his hand.

"No time for moody thought tonight Volkmann! Tonight we drink!!!" he yelled in a jovial tone as he poured ale down his throat

The Hureg chieftain was enjoying every minute of the celebrations, Magnar always had been good at making the most of any joy he could find. Gaiseric suspected that this was why Magnar had lived so long, the old man loved life and took his pleasures wherever he could find them, he squeezed every drop of joy from existence that he could find.

"This reminds me of my second wedding!!! granted the hall is larger and my brother hasn't vomited on anything, but the mood is the same!" Magnar beamed with a broad grin

"I hope my wedding is as memorable," Gaiseric said almost in a whisper

"Aye it will be, but I thought we were keeping that a secret until the right time?" Magnar replied with a knowing look

Gaiseric nodded and took a long gulp from his mug, Prydanian beer was good stuff and the banquet table was heaving with kegs of the it, Gaiseric decided to take the old mans advice. tonight he would ignore the troubles of the wider world and focus upon the joys of the hall.

Alycia returned the kiss Toby gave her and smiled before lifting her own glass up. "Ralte! Evíva!" she chuckled a little bit as Alexandros and some other Norsian party-goers returned the cheers.
"And you married a Trien Norsian. I can handle loud, my love."

Alycias smile only grew bigger as Tony and Claire came up, this really is the best day.
"I'm so glad you two could make it, you being here makes this day that much more sweeter. Thank you for coming, and the gifts."
When Tony and Claire go to leave she turns to Toby with a bright smile. "Should we open them now, or later?"