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galadrieljones · 10 months ago

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Daryl's Arrows: Symbolism, Pt. 1 (Green and White)

It has been a while since I've made a TD post. I'm hoping to make a comeback these days, and in my first attempt to do that, I'd like to talk about a topic I've been paying attention to for several years now: the symbolic nature of Daryl's arrows.

Daryl's arrows change color over the course of the series, as I'm sure you've noticed. In the past, we've seen colors and color combinations including red, yellow, green, white, and black. Sometimes they're dirty. Sometimes they're tattered. Sometimes they're pristine. Sometimes they're seen and not used. Colors in TWDU always mean something, and Daryl's arrows are no exception. In this series of posts, I want to look at how Daryl's arrows are used as foils for his psychological state, and how they often reflect his relationship and symbolic proximity to Beth. As one of the most visually compelling characters in the series, Daryl and his vast inventory bear many clues in terms of how he feels and where he's headed. With Daryl, who is a stoic character, what we see is often much more important than what we hear.

First, just for reference, in case you're unfamiliar with the anatomy of an arrow, I'll be referencing two key parts in these posts: the FLETCHING (or feathered "wings" around the back of the arrow), and the NOCK (the, often colored, slotted tip at the end of the arrow, opposite the arrow point, aka the arrow tip, or arrowhead).

The changing color of Daryl's arrows is not confined to just the fletching. His nocks change color as well and are equally important.

The Prison: Green

As is everything with Team Delusional, this analysis originates with Scott Gimple, and like so much else we are still striving to understand, episode 3.12 "Clear."

If you look closely at the shot from above, you'll see Daryl's *new* crossbow, leaning against the gun rack on the righthand side of the screen. Daryl begins the series with a much simpler design. The pictured more advanced compound crossbow is given to him by Michonne and Rick, after they bring it back from Morgan's cache, which is like Gimple's magical well full of hints and symbols. Beginning in the very next episode "Arrow on the Doorpost," Daryl trades his old crossbow for the new one, which he will use *almost* (more on that later) exclusively for the remainder of the series, and which he still uses now (or did up until recently, when he lost it in Portland, ME).

Daryl's *new* crossbow (pictured above) is special, because when it's given to him, it contains arrows with special, alternating green and white fletching, as well as green nocks. It's important that this crossbow and, more specifically, THESE arrows, are gifted to him, as opposed to being choices he made for himself, and I will talk more about choices soon.

"Clear" immediately follows the mini-arc in season 3 in which Daryl leaves the prison with Merle and then returns. The theme of coming "home" is pervasive in TWDU, particularly with Daryl, who, for much of his character arc, has seemingly been without one. Further, the act of making a decision to settle down, to stay in one place, to commit himself has unabashedly occurred to Daryl only two times over the course of the series: 1.) In the episode "Home," when he chooses to return to Rick and the prison, even if it means leaving Merle behind, and 2.) in the episode "Alone," when he chooses to stay and to "make it work" in the funeral home with Beth.

Every other time Daryl has decided to "settle down" or to "stay" somewhere, such as Alexandria, the Commonwealth, and the Nest in France, it's either been because of inertia, coercion, obligation, or some combination of the three.

Perhaps you can see by now that Daryl and decision-making are important factors to this character analysis. The truth is, Daryl is a passive character. He doesn't make many decisions that are driven by a strong internal motivation or code. He makes decisions because they're easy, because they're what he *should* do, or because they're what someone else told him or asked him to do. Very rarely does Daryl make a choice based on his own desires or his own code. He is reactive at times, ie: He makes emotional decisions driven by rage, revenge, annoyance, etc.. But these are not deliberate choices. They are passionate, in the heat of the moment, and he may even come to regret them or to change his mind.

We can see this clearly at the end of Daryl Dixon season 1, in which we really have no idea whether Daryl desires to stay in France or if he desires to go home. We don't know if he's going home simply because he thinks he should, or because he truly wants to, or because he just has some chip on his shoulder about staying. We don't even know if he considers the Commonwealth, or Alexandria for that matter, to be home, because he didn't choose either of those domains for himself. They were chosen for him, and he's just sort of been drifting in and out ever since. If anything, in the first season of DD, we learn that Daryl seems to be a man without a home, and a man without strong motivating factors to make choices, or to act.

We learn in Daryl Dixon that one very important potential motivational factor for Daryl that is entirely missing from his life is that of a family of his own. And no, I don't mean friends, or found brothers and sisters, or nieces and nephews. I mean a wife and children (his OWN children, not Rick's children).

SO what does this have to do with Daryl's new crossbow? Well, first of all, Daryl's crossbow is gifted to him, a bit of "supernatural aid" to help him along on his hero's journey. The arrows, as well, are a gift. In the second half of season 3 and the first half of season 4, we see Daryl display unprecedented feelings of happiness and a focused purpose. He is given this chance, but ONLY once he chooses to stay.

In 3.10 "Home," Daryl makes his first major choice, which is to return to the prison, aka to return home. Once he starts using his new crossbow, he will then use the green and white arrows exclusively for the rest of season 3, all of season 4, and some of season 5 (until the episode "Spend"). The one major common denominator to this run is his proximity to Beth.

The color combination in these arrows is green and white, which parallels clothing and jewelry worn by Beth in the first half of season: Beth's earrings and her outfit in 4.1 "30 Days Without an Accident," and Beth's outfit in 4.2 "Infected."

The "Beth lookalike" dead girl in "Infected" shows an interesting juxtaposition as well.

In 4.4 "Indifference," one of my favorite examples of foreshadowing for Daryl and Beth, in a scene in which Daryl's arrows look very green against the verdant landscape, Daryl finds a rare piece of green jasper on the ground. As he's cleaning it off, Michonne initially responds suggestively, smiling, as if she knows something we don't. She says, "It's a good color. Brings out your eyes."

Daryl responds quickly, correcting her to say that it's for Mrs. Richards, who has become ill. But this surprises Michonne. That's clearly not who she thought it was for.

The piece of green jasper that Daryl finds looks suspiciously like the stone Beth wears in her earrings. Toward the end of the episode, Daryl can be seen studying the jasper pensively in the car while the rest of the team gets ready to go. This moment is rarely discussed, but I believe he is actually thinking about Beth when he holds the jasper that day, ready to return home from a long, hard journey. I also think Michonne might have known that something was going on. Of course, we may never know the truth on that, but Michonne is a romantic character, and if anyone was going to notice Daryl's feelings for Beth, it might just be her.

Remember that green jasper is rare. It was chosen here for a reason. It is viewed as containing powers of protection and healing, as well as relief from obsessive behaviors and compulsions. You can read more about the properties and historical significance of green jasper here.

In any case, the color green is, of course, easily attributable to Beth, whose last name is green. This is specifically true when it's seen around Daryl. When it's seen around Rick, we might alternatively associate green with Hershel. But while Hershel might be Rick's "Greene," Beth is Daryl's "Greene." And when Daryl's arrows "trend" green, that means that her story and her relationship to him is creating psychological friction with his character on screen. It means, not only that she is "with" him, but that he accepts her there, and he is still the man he was trying to be at the time that he first chose the prison, and the time after the prison that he spent with her.

The connection between Daryl's arrows and Beth begins literally, but after "Coda," the connection becomes symbolic. We'll get there soon.

I also do want to point out that though this connection is somewhat subtle in season 3, once we get to season 4, with Gimple at the helm, the connection becomes much clearer and more overt. This supports the hypothesis that Beth and Daryl are Gimple's "pet" creation, something he always wanted to explore but never could, because they and their relationship are not a part of the comics. But via Daryl's arrows, he is able to keep their relationship alive in the background.

After the Prison: White

After the prison, when Daryl and Beth are physically together, and then we transition into Daryl's search for Beth in Atlanta, Daryl's arrows remain the same: alternating green/white; however, some unique shifts occur, in terms of emphasis.

Here's a shot from "Inmates," as Daryl pulls an arrow out of a walker's head near the train tracks.

This shot is from "Alone."

And here's one from "Consumed." This is one of my favorite shots of Daryl in the entire series.

In all of these shots, the arrows, which alternate green AND white for fletching, are specifically arranged in front of the camera so that the fletching looks entirely WHITE. White arrows are angelic in nature, protectors. They accompany Daryl and Beth’s discovery of the deceased innocents from the bus, imploring faith that not all hope is lost, as some of the children lived. They accompany Beth as she shoots Daryl’s crossbow near the cemetery, once again calling on us to "have a little faith," as even though Beth is caught in a trap, she is rescued by Daryl. And as you can see in the shot above from “Consumed,” the two white arrows literally resemble the wings of an angel, balanced delicately on Daryl's shoulder as he gazes out over the city, eventually seeing the Grady van in the distance, a major clue.

Note that per the "Consumed" shot, we see this same arrangement, double-white, from two separate angles, showing its purposeful nature. The first, just Daryl from the side (above), the second, both Carol and Daryl, head-on (below). Though they mirror one another in body language, Carol looks down, unsure of her fate. Daryl looks straight ahead, a man of conviction.

In "Consumed," Daryl is communicated as a hopeful, motivated man, helping Carol through her crisis of faith and disconnection from her purpose and identity as the two of them search Atlanta for signs of Beth. He finds and takes the book about overcoming child abuse, a clue that he is making conscious choices to get better, and he is entering a real path to renewal and self-improvemet, all thanks to his time with Beth. Note, too, that angels do not only flock to Daryl via his arrows. He is also protected in the falling van, by the crucifixes on the back windows, and the holy Mother Mary, watching over him from the dash. In the shot below (right), you can also see, once again, the duality of body language between Daryl and Carol. Daryl is braced, staring straight ahead, ready for anything, while Carol, in her crisis of faith, breathes heavily and cowers in fear.

Carol endures bad injuries from the crash, which are worsened when she is hit by a car. Daryl, however, emerges without a scratch. This theme of protection and indestructibility, for Daryl, will return in the future. In the episode, Carol tells Daryl that he has "become a man" now, and we see him perhaps as driven and committed to any cause as he will ever be. That cause is finding Beth. You can see this once more very clearly in the final shot of the episode, in which even Noah notices, looking at him like “WTF did I just walk into?” For the third time, too, we see Daryl noticeably squared up, facing straight ahead in the shot, showing commitment and determination, while Noah's expression is unsure.

Also, if you look closely at the shot above, you can see, one more time, a single white, angelic arrow, perched just above the dash.

Daryl shoots one more white arrow over the course of the series, but it's not for a very long time. In 6.15, "East," just before the group is ambushed by the Saviors, Daryl, angry about Denise, having had his crossbow stolen by Dwight in 6.6 "Always Accountable," goes out searching for Dwight to take his revenge. In the scene, Daryl wanders a clearing as the bright sun shines down upon him, directly reminiscent of the sun coming through the trees in "Them." So reminiscent, in fact, that it is the same exact shot, just inverted both horizontally and vertically and adjusted with a red filter. Quick aside: Below, you can see the original two shots, the lefthand shot from "East," the righthand shot from "Them."

Now, here are the shots again, with the shot from "East" on the left, inverted once, horizontally and vertically. You can also see the red in how it colors the light filtering through the trees. This communicates that since Beth's death, which he was directly morning underneath the tree in the shot on the right, Daryl's character has been "upside down." He's messed up. What was right is now wrong, and what was wrong is now right, and his descent lies ahead.

Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn come after him, to try and dissuade him. When they do, Daryl shoots an arrow right past Rosita's face and into a tree. That arrow, the last of the green/white arrows we will ever see, appears entirely white in his hand and foretells that in the confrontation to come, Daryl, unlike two of his brethren, will be spared.

In my next post, I'll move on to Daryl's red arrows, focusing on Noah's death, 5.15 "Try" and 5.16 "Conquer," as well as 6.6 "Always Accountable," Denise's death and what this all means. I believe that, over the seasons, Gimple has found small ways in which to show that Daryl has been continuously protected by Beth's presence, but that, in his darkest hours, he is not always eager to accept it. 💫

I'm going to tag some other TDers in these posts, just for reference. If you'd like me to tag you in future posts, please just comment here to let me know, and I will! ❤️

@wdway @twdmusicboxmystery @frangipanilove @angelthefirst1

#the walking dead #team delusional #bethyl #beth greene #beth is alive #beth is coming #Daryl's Arrows

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morefictionlesslife · 2 years ago

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Till death brings us together

It is a continuation of my last story, but I guess you can read it as a stand-alone. Enjoy :)

Aoife/Niten

Niten was standing in front of a mirror wearing a black outer robe with white inner layers. His family crest was embroidered on both sides of his kimono – it was a discreet white crest with two arrows flying beside each other.

It reminded him of her.

Of his fiancée. They, too, had been flying beside one another for so long that he forgot to even hope to have his feelings returned. Until he died and was brought back to life by Tsagaglalal and Prometheus’ aura.

He remembered her strong small body embracing him, calling out to him, getting angry at him. The last one wasn’t surprising. It happened from time to time. But then he had taken the leap he had feared for so long. He had told her how he felt, because then at least, she would know the truth, if nothing else. She teased him, breaking his heart in the process, then she had accepted and kissed him.

Aoife had kissed him.

Niten smiled to himself when he thought about that moment. It was engraved in his mind forever.

He was so in thoughts that he completely missed the dressing room door being opened. Although, he would never admit to such a heinous accusation. He had a reputation to uphold.

“How fares the groom? Having cold feet?” teased Prometheus from the corridor leaning heavily onto the doorpost. When Niten turned around to look at the man, he couldn’t help but smile along. The Elder looked good for his age and the events that had occurred. His reddish hair was somewhat recovered, only a small portion of grey hair peeked through the red. His suit was…acceptable, not Niten’s personal choice, but clothes did not matter to the man. It was already than enough to have the elder man there, even though his orange suit made the groom’s eyes water.

“Never,” promised the swordsman, smiling even wider. How could he ever, when this was everything, he had ever wanted?

Prometheus huffed and straightened himself up. “Alright, alright. The first one out of the two of you, who would break this up, would probably be my niece.” Niten’s eyes betrayed his shock, and his hands trembled. Did Aoife say something? Do something? Was that why the older man was there? Had she changed her mind? Did she not want him anymore?

“Ah, you misunderstood me, my friend, I was merely being hypothetical.” The younger man gave the Elder a warning look. His shoulders slumped as his breathing became regular again. The swordsman had really lost a considerable number of years just from the teasing of this family. The number of times, he had had a heart attack, because one of the redheads or their uncle decided to be playful and lead him astray with their words, was astronomical. He could have grey hair just from those three. Not counting their grandmother, who said would show up for the wedding, making the Japanese swordsman sweat even more.

She had made her threat come true, because Niten had already gotten a glimpse of her when he had checked the garden if everything had gone according to plan. He had contemplated whether to approach the Witch of Endor and risk losing his head for asking Aoife’s hand or just pretend he didn’t see her and bolt. His immaculate upbringing hadn’t allowed him not to greet his fiancée’s family member. But the Witch had decided for him when she turned her back to him and went to greet her brother. Somehow the Japanese had known that she had known he was there. When he turned back to get dressed, he felt a big mirror to his left watching him.

The Elder moved closer to his soon to be son-in-law. He considered the twins to be his daughters so… “She is getting ready for the ceremony just as you are.” Prometheus bowed down to whisper into smaller man’s ear. “And, honestly, being even more nervous than you.” He pulled back. “She is fidgeting around the room like some ancient god is about to attack her. But then again, she would probably be even calmer if that were the case. Aoife can fight with everything…hold a decent conversation and talk about her feelings…not so much. The fact that she is doing both with you, means you are the perfect one for her.” Aoife talked with him about her feelings to a degree, would have the Japanese added, but kept it to himself.

Niten smiled for the hundredth time this day as he thought about his future wife. It was too good to be true, but over time the Japanese had learned to take everything given to him. It would only take a second to be lost, so he intended to make every moment count.

“And your purpose here is to make me even more nervous?” asked the Japanese with a grin as he straightened his kimono and pushed away dust particles, that had found a way to his robe.

Prometheus grabbed an apple form the wood cabinet standing near the door and took a huge chunk from it. “Exactly,” crunched the older, making both laugh. “No, actually I am here for the free food and alcohol, messing with you is just a bonus.” Niten heard him laugh in the corridor as he left the Japanese alone again.

The ceremony was about to start in 30 minutes. Niten couldn’t be happier and more rigid at the same time. In an hour he would be Aoife’s husband to take care of her, to be there for her and fight beside her. And she in return, would be there for him.

So why couldn’t he stay calm? His heart was beating like crazy; his hands were all over the place and his controlled breathing, he had worked for so long and maintained throughout his immortal life, was nowhere to be found. What a swordsman he was when he couldn’t handle his own wedding?

Perhaps, it was his biggest challenge yet. And the most rewarding one. Being Aoife’s husband was both terrifying and everything he could ever want. What if he disappointed her?

“Knock, knock,” said an angel or a demon, depended on who to ask, from the doorway. Though, the man was almost a hundred per cent sure, that he was the only one, who would call Aoife of the Shadows an angel. Even her uncle considered the twins to be little rascals.

Niten stood with his back to the door, but he could see the smiling redhead, when he looked at his fiancée from the mirror he was standing in front of. When their eyes met, the man gave her his biggest smile, which reached almost to his ears, and his dimples framed his already happy face.

“You know, in some cultures the groom should not see the bride before the ceremony,” said Niten to his wife-to-be, who had begun to sneak towards him with inaudible steps. His beloved wore a long black cape that covered most of her dress. Some of the green material still peeked through the opening in the front, leaving Niten no doubt that she will look gorgeous in it. The colour matched the green of her eyes perfectly.

Aoife smirked at him: “And there are cultures, where the bride will feast on her husband’s heart after the wedding.”

He chuckled and turned around just in time to catch Aoife securely in his arms, when she jumped at the man without much thought. The redhead put her hands in Niten’s combed hair, making a mess of it within seconds, and wrapped her legs around his body, taking him into her strong embrace. The cape and the dress underneath it, did restrict some of her movements, but both paid it no heed, while smiling to each other.

The Japanese proposed, while supporting his future wife with his hands around her back: “How about we disregard both of these traditions?” He caressed his beloved’s spine with his right hand, making the woman lean in even closer.

“Mm, and I so looked forward to the second one,” said Aoife slily, while sliding her fingers across his husband-to-be’s face making the swordsman’s face flustered, before finding Niten’s lips with her own.

Showing intimacy in public or even in their own home hadn’t come easily for the warriors. Niten could tell that most of the time, she was worried that she had crossed some lines, even if he had stated many times that she had a permission to kiss and hug him whenever she felt like it. Even the man was not sure, how much he could allow himself to do, what she was comfortable with. That required talking and while Niten had no problem talking to others, it seemed that every time he looked at Aoife, his breath caught, and his face started burning. She made him nervous. So, both held back in fear of hurting or insulting the other.

Some days felt like the old days, like nothing had changed, like they hadn’t gotten engaged or expressed their affections. Niten would wake up alone for Aoife needed very little sleep, Niten would make breakfast, they would go hunt demons or other creatures or the couple would practice or watch TV. The night would roll, and the man would go to bed.

Niten didn’t know how to break the cycle until one rainy day, he took a leap, because the last time he allowed himself to chicken out, he became to regret it a little too late.

The Japanese had sat on a couch and read a fairly good book, when he couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted Aoife to know the depth of his adoration for her. After that morning at the bay, when he had poured out his heart, and occasional words, he hadn’t really had a chance or rather given himself a chance to convey his devotion to her.

“Aoife,” started Niten carefully and stared at the woman training with her nunchaku inside their apartment near the pier, where his boat was. He sat in his reading corner as Aoife had once called it, while she destroyed yet another training doll in the living room. She wore black training clothing, not even a strand of hair out of place, when he drew her attention to himself.

She looked back at him with curiosity in her beautiful eyes. “What is it?”

“Would it be agreeable if I expressed my love for you?” asked the swordsman. He wasn’t satisfied with how the question came out, it left out so much, but it would have to do.

As expected, it brought more confusion than clarity. The redhead blushed, brought her weapon to a standstill, and stammered abashed: “Like right now or…?”

Niten stood up and placed the book on the counter. The Japanese offered the warrior a little smile while explaining: “I meant…always.” The woman put the nunchaku silently on the table and came closer her eyes searching for his. Have they always been that green? That beguiling? “Maybe not always, but more often. You accepted my hand in marriage and yet, sometimes I don’t see any difference, while I loved what we had before my death,” Aoife flinched, her lips grimaced at the horrible memory, “now that you know my feelings and aren’t repulsed by them, I don’t want to keep them silent, I would like to say, you mean the world to me, many worlds, I would like to hug you once in a while and…”

Niten stopped abruptly to shake his head. In his enthusiasm, he had completely forgotten that the redhead could decline any time and decide she didn’t want his affections to be expressed every day. To mend his mistake, he switched the theme and offered quickly: “If you don’t want, I, of course, will…”

Aoife wrapped her hands around his neck to put her head against his shoulder. Niten, while freezing for one second, recovered fast and pressed the woman as close as possible with his hands around her slim frame. He lowered his face into her soft spiky hair to breath his love in. While not having spores, Niten could swear she did have unique smell to her that he could recognize anywhere. To him, she smelled like home.

“Niten,” whispered Aoife, her warm breath against his neck making Niten shiver.

“Yes,” he wasn’t sure, he should add that little endearment, but couldn’t hold himself back, when his heart was overflown with love for his fierce warrior, who clutched him so firmly to her, “my love?” The swordsman had called her that also on that fateful day, when he felt, he could do anything.

The redhead blushed furiously against him, but the man didn’t miss the small smile that had crept up her face and refused to go away.

“What is it?” repeated Niten overjoyed with happiness of being that close to the one he loved.

Suddenly, Aoife looked up at him and removed her hands from around him, letting the cold air hit against his neck once more. She stepped a few steps back and began waving with her hands in no direction: “It’s just, I don’t know how to…to do all of this. I’ve never been engaged before; I’ve never had someone I…someone I…someone I love. Romantically at least, that much. You will have to tell me, what I must do and when I do something wrong.” Niten’s face lit up seeing her saying the words once more. He never doubted the sincerity of her feelings, but it was nice to hearing them out loud.

She remembered an error in her earlier words and added: “Well, there was Cuchulain.”

Niten didn’t think there existed anyone he hated more than Cuchulain. The human had lived hundreds, if not thousands, of years before he was even born, but that did nothing to quell his rage for him. Partly because he was the core reason for so much of Aoife’s sadness; this man had separated her from her beloved sister. While not entirely his fault; the twins should have communicated better or, from Niten’s understanding and few pieces of information from Aoife, at all; the Japanese found himself hating the human.

The second reason was a little bit silly and a lot more personal. Cuchulain had been in love with Aoife, the woman he loved. While Niten was busy pining over Aoife, the unattainable warrior, she had confessed that there were some romantical feelings involved from her part with this Irish warrior. Although Scathach seemed to have been the one that had been falling harder for the man, it had come as a shock to Niten when the object of his affections had said that she had feelings for this ancient fighter.

The night after this discovery was one of the very few nights immortal Niten, the fierce Miyamoto Musashi got absolutely wasted. He didn’t remember half the things he did the next morning, only the ugly emotion of jealousy that had clouded his mind and heart. Aoife made a few comments about his unusual behaviour but didn’t pry further. The man wished she had, maybe then he would have had the courage to state his feelings, but no, he sulked in the shadows and trained harder than ever, so his dreams would not revolve around the happy couple, making him sick and broken-hearted.

Niten really hated the man, this Cuchulain.

It was a few years back, when they heard about the Las Vegas incident with Scathach and Billy the Kid of all people. Cuchulain or Setanta, like he had called himself, had, in fact, survived and tried to kill Scathach, blaming her for his fate. Niten had to physically restrain Aoife from going to Las Vegas and destroying the entire city. The swordsman hadn’t the faintest clue, what that would accomplish, but he felt the urge to do the same. The man he had hated had somehow survived and going after the twins.

Not on his watch.

Their fury was unnecessary, because Scathach had already killed him. Niten didn’t want to know, what Aoife would have done, if the immortal had harmed or, even worse, killed the twin, Aoife’s baby sister.

So now, he took a deep breath and reminded himself, that Aoife loved him and not the dead warrior.

At the same time, he had contemplating bringing back Cuchulain so he would kill him himself, Aoife muttered quietly to herself: “Aoife, you coward, you can fight anyone, but can’t say Niten you love him?” She kicked a cardboard box lying on the ground towards a small ocean view window.

The man watched her adoringly. Niten told Aoife as she finally made an eye contact with him: “I love you, too, very much. I, too, have no previous experience in marriage or that kind of companionship. But…Every romance I have read or heard about is different, unique. I don’t think there is one right way to do things.” The Japanese began to cross the room with steady steps. “It is just us. Do what feels right because our relationship isn’t defined by someone else’s. It’s ours. So, kiss me when you feel like it, hug me when you like it or don’t, and I promise to do the same. If we don’t cross each other’s boundaries and talk about those things, it will be whatever we make of it.” He came to stand in front of red-faced Aoife and held his hand out for her. “So, would you like to learn and explore together?”

Aoife hesitated only for a second before taking his hand and pulling him down to kiss her.

After that, things got easier. Niten allowed himself to hug her from behind when he found her irresistible. Only when she knew it was him because he didn’t wish to end up dead. She kissed him sweetly when he made her a warm drink on a cold winter night.

It was good. Very good.

This was how things got to this point that these two ended up choosing January the 3rd as their wedding date.

“We are not having sex before our marriage ceremony,” told Niten breathlessly as he slowly and regretfully pulled back from Aoife’s relentless kissing, his lips swollen and his black hair like a bird’s nest.

Niten had stumbled, after the first few kisses, Aoife clinging to his shoulders and feet like vices around his midsection, backwards into an armchair, while losing his common sense and deciding that 30 minutes before the wedding would be the perfect time to have a make-out session.

But how could he deny her anything, when she looked at him like he was her world?

Aoife smirked happily and not flustered at all for she didn’t need to breath: “You want to wait until marriage?”

The man smiled slyly: “A little late for that, I think.” Aoife lowered her lips to his neck to bite there, being careful with her vampire teeth, and Niten would have let her; even when a horrible image of him standing in front of the altar with a visible hickey on his neck, came to his mind; when a shriek filled the room, making the woman hop to her feet in less than a second to fight whatever was coming their way. Niten was not far behind.

“MY EYES! I never want to see this ever again!” came an upset voice from the doorway. It was a pitch higher than Aoife’s. “You have 20 minutes to get ready and you two decide to…Never mind, you will have to come. And soon.” Scathach had covered her face and was grimacing while backing away from the dreadful scene that had unfolded before her very eyes.

“Well, you will have to because I am going to kiss my husband in front of everybody,” declared Aoife victoriously. The groom shook his head at the twins. She laughed at the sulking twin: “Nice dress, by the way.”

Scatty looked at the verge of killing the bride before the wedding in her pink bridesmaid’s dress. Niten didn’t think the dress was that bad, but clearly the Shadow thought something else, if her expression was anything to go by.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” muttered Scatty to herself and crossed her arms. Then, still upset from walking in on them, she directed her next saying at the man. “Niten, and I thought you had some sense of property. Clearly, I was wrong! I hate both of you.”

With that she walked away but was back half a second later: “You have 20 minutes, well, 19 now. Hurry up! Or you are not getting married!”

Then she was gone.

“Don’t worry,” murmured Aoife catching her fiancé’s arm, rising to her tiptoes, and whispering into his left ear, “I quite like this adventurous part of you.” She let her lips linger on the swordsman ear.

“Was I not adventurous before?” asked Niten with a sly smile. After all those wonderful trips to various Shadowrealms; fights, encounters with strange species and narrow escapes; he still wasn’t adventurous enough for his darling wife?

Aoife smirked close to his face. He felt her breath on his lips; that reminded him of the sweetness of her kisses. Unknowingly, the swordsman licked his bottom lip and Aoife’s gaze was taken over by lust.

She leaned closer so she could touch his lips with her own: her hand found a way to his hair. Niten drew the warrior closer by putting both his arms around her to flush her against himself. Had she always been this soft?

Aoife whispered: “Scandalous.”

Niten snapped. Their lips finally moved against each other, and their tongues danced together. The Japanese lifted the woman up and curling her into himself, while she threw her both arms around his neck and held onto Niten like she never intended to let go of him. The swordsman reciprocated the action. After all, she was his future, how could he ever let go?

A faraway gong brought the couple back to reality, only to realize that they had exactly ten minutes before the ceremony. And they, in fact, were still very interested in getting married; they had to control themselves. To some, it was easier (not easier per se, but they had more control over their desires), to some, it took a bit of persuasion and promises of making it up to them, to get them finally to let go.

The swordsman suggested quietly, while still holding her between his arms: “We should tidy up lest we make it very clear to everyone out there, what we did in here.”

“And how is that their problem? You are to be my husband, I can do what I want with you behind closed doors,” answered in her usual challenging way.

“The door was not closed, my love, as your sister demonstrated,” brushed Niten her unkept hair out of her eyes, “also, I believe I saw your grandmother. Do you want…”

“Tidying up is an excellent suggestion, husband mine,” said the woman quickly and letting the man slip from her grasp to take up a comb. Niten laughed.

Aoife hesitated for a moment in the doorway with a strange expression. The Japanese looked at her in worry.

“I’ll be the one in green,” stated Aoife a little bit wobbly. It was finally here! Their wedding. It was not happening in his dreams. This was reality.

He smiled blindingly at his one and only, at his love, at the reason he still felt alive after 400 years, at his Aoife. He knew that she was nervous. It was his honour to reassure her.

The swordsman placed the comb on the table to cross the room and take Aoife’s hands in his own. “It’s just me out there. Like I said, it’s for us. This wedding is a way of telling everyone what we already have. Do you plan on running away?”

“No,” came an instant reply.

“Do you think I will abandon you at the altar?”

“No,” came a strong answer, but Niten detected a look of fear behind those gorgeous eyes.

He smiled at his wife and didn’t bother on correcting himself because that’s ultimately what she was – his other half. “Alright then, we have nothing to worry about. The only essential people in the wedding are the bride and the groom. And the last time I checked; they are here.”

“Well, there is the one who conducts the ceremony…”

The swordsman sighed. “You have a way of turning my every romantic declaration into…something else.” He was loss for correct words.

“It’s just my charm,” smiled Aoife, but turned serious quickly. “Also, thank you.” She kissed his cheek sweetly.

The Japanese caught a glimpse of her forest green dress underneath of the black cloak. That reminded him. “Beloved, I don’t need anything to recognize you from the others. Never fear that.”

“You can’t just say things like that!” declared Aoife with reddening face. She pulled her hands free at his scandalous behaviour. Ah, so the make-out sessions are fine, but his darling drew a line at romantic nothings. Too bad.

“It’s my wedding day, I can say whatever I want to my bride,” said grinning Niten turning her earlier words to work in his favour.

Blushing woman grinded her teeth. Aoife said an ultimatum: “I still have a chance to not show up!” Both knew that to be a playful bluff.

Niten couldn’t help but take advantage of this. He sighed with a mournful expression: “Well, then I have to preserve them for someone el…” Before he could finish, he had an armful of furious warrior, who would make sure that every single one of his romantic sayings would be directed at her. She would just have to put up with those, because the thought of not having his love was too much, a reality she didn’t want to live in. As if he would ever have anyone else.

She was his forever.

“Don’t you dare! You are mine, Miyamoto Musashi!”

“I have been yours since the moment I met you, Aoife of the Shadows,” assured Niten to Aoife with all his heart.

#SINF #The Secrets of the Immortal Nicolas Flamel #Aoife/Niten #aoife #Niten #i may edit or change it as i put it on ao3 in the future #but i thought that now would be a good time to upload it #sorry for the mistakes #in these trying times i offer you a sneak peek into my next story #sinf #the secrets of the immortal nicholas flamel

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