#god idk why but dialogue is just such a nightmare for me rn it's Hell

[captusmomentum]

@theladypirate @feynites

Okay so! Here’s the Immediate wedding day stuff fic, though I did kinda leave some of it a bit vague so it could get spotlighted more later on if people wanted that for whatever reason and you know, keeping it from being Monstrous in length. 

Finally finished this since I ended up avoiding as much dialogue as I could B) apparently me and dialogue are not friends rn hahahaah weEPS. 

Inanallas’s older sisters, Imshi and Eth’Menala, and Keeper Durgenara are the ones who see to their clothing, styling and dressing them for the wedding. Their sisters are both very good at sewing and had done the bulk of the work to make it themselves, making sure it was just so, making sure that no one would mistake where they came from. Among the clans, Clan Anurlal was unique, having settled the furthest south on the mountains above the dwarves where little magic or comfort was found, and down in the basin the mountains concealed. Their clothing spoke of hard climates and practically, usually involving fur and many layers. Even this, one of the most elaborate things they’d ever seen was simple in structure but richly embroidered with patterns, symbols and pictures of important to the clan and that spoke distinctly to them and their achievements. The short overcoat was almost like a ornamental chainmail— cloth with hundreds of metal medallions sewn into it that combined with the large necklace, silver bracers and headpiece was the most jewelry they had ever worn.

Durgenara braids their hair after their sisters are done manhandling them into their clothing like a child, somehow the old woman manages to get all their fly away ends to stay slick to their head— secret ancient magic they assume, what else could managed that. When she is done and the veil has been placed on their head, covering said braid and rendering all that work pointless, they finally hazard a glance at themselves in a mirror.

It’s an odd sight. The headpiece covers their forehead completely, it’s beaded threads cover the side of their face, masking much of their tattoos and in doing so makes them look much softer, which they suppose is good, they don’t really want to look menacing. The surcoat is long but still short enough to hint at the other skirt and pants underneath and show their leather boots, also embroidered. The overall look…….. Somehow makes them look more mature and like a baby at the same time, though maybe that’s just them. They certainly feel like a child right now, with everyone doing everything for them as they get ready for something someone else is making them do.

The spirit of Dignity who had been so kind as to agree to handle the brunt of this debacle however is very pleased, and thinks they both look very fine and appropriate for the occasion. So there’s that.

The wedding itself is a mix of Elvhenan and Free Elf customs, mainly their own since it is their wedding. But overall there is not too much difference between all parties when it comes to weddings, at least structurally, once you got to everything that surrounded the spells and such things varied intensely. It does help in the planning of it all at least, that they can get the most important parts agreed upon fairly painlessly then stress over all the more decorative elements instead.

They let Dignity take the wheel with increasing frequency as they get closer to the wedding. By the time they’re finally relevant in the whole event itself Dignity is in complete control while Inan only has about a foot inside themself, the rest of them looking for just about anywhere else to focus than what’s going on around their physical body.

They can’t help but peek though, to see who on earth they’re actually marrying. They know they are marrying two people instead of just one, which was even more horrible in their opinion even if it was something clever politically.  They knew the basics about them but had never actually looked into them because it was just too terrifying a prospect. Now, they were filled with a sort of morbid curiosity, like if they looked at them they’d die instantly but hey you know, that’s life.

The first one they see when they turn their gaze back to reality is the red one, drawn in by Dignity’s noting that while armor was not incorrect fashion for such an event it was also not the most mood appropriate choice. It is at least, very fine, ornate armor so that placates the spirit on that front. The person in the armor is not too much taller than Inanallas herself which is oddly comforting for no logical reason. Their face is very striking, very sharp —like a hawk turned into a person, or a knife in disguise— and marked with Andruil’s symbol in intense red. So this is Uthvir then. They don’t see it so much as feel it, like an anxious ball of vibration in their solar plexus that keys them to the fact they’re not the only one who has a spirit inside them, though they get the sense that the hunter’s is more permanent. Fear, they think, or something similar from the feel of it. Not their first choice of a roommate but it’s not any of their business.  

They’re not so bad— ominous, scary looking hunters Inanallas could deal with, old hat really. They’d met tons of people in spiky armor who stabbed things. Even if this time they’d be marrying them and not fighting or arguing with them. It was totally fine, really. That meant by process of elimination the other one was Thenvunin. Dignity seemed infinitely more enamored with him, having already turned its attention there, so Inanallas followed Dignity’s lead and —

Oh.

OH.

OH NO.

Instantly they panic from their little bolthole blessedly tucked dimensionally or some such away from this dark carnival of endless misery.

Thenvunin is just as gorgeous as Uthvir only in a different, more refined way. Tall with perfect flowing blonde hair done perfectly and what looked like a body so close to the ideal it was comical under a stunningly gorgeous gown. It would be a tyrannical slaving empire that would have the resources to make an outfit so impossibly perfect, but the extravagance that would normally rankle them they can forgive when it’s on him. He seems made for opulence, and not in a vain, terrible way like greedy little egotist, but because he was someone who was regal looking and had fine tastes, —or something like that.

He did, sincerely look like the perfect example of a shining prince all dressed in glimmering silver accented by blue and green, like something out of a very high end dream. Almost surreal for how flawless he was.

In other words Inanallas’s worst nightmare.

If she thought she could handle Uthvir without at least looking like a complete fuck up she was already dead in the water with Thenvunin. He was clearly nothing like them and there was definitely nothing in common between them. They hadn’t even actually met yet and Inanallas felt tongue-tied, wrong footed and small comparatively. And they were getting married, so that was for the rest of their life. Doomed to an eternity of being married to someone they could talk about exclusively hunting with if they were lucky and another who made them want to go and live with the Children of the Stone never to return just on sight and also just die here instantly to escape. And that was the best case, that wasn’t even going in to the possible ways they could be terrible, terrible people or how this was all a loveless sham marriage for politics.

They essentially black out then for a while, actively shutting off much of their exposure to their senses as they try to beat down the hysterics now wracking them. When Dignity pulls at them for the vows and binding spells she comes back just enough to make sure it’s Inanallas who’s bound and not poor Dignity before retreating again for a while to marshal themselves again.

Inanallas is officially back and at least sharing the load with Dignity once the revelry and feasting start up. They’re seated between Thenvunin and Uthvir which is harrowing but they’ve moved so far past terror they’re almost fine and just fucking rolling with it, like a burn victim who’s nerves are just completely dead so they can’t feel the pain anymore. The first course that’s served is some of the food the clans eat done up as appetizers, which makes sense to them as they look over the array of fruits —dried and fresh, dried and pickled meats and vegetables, spreads of all kinds, crackers, breads, and whatnot.

Deciding to be a good host— and they suppose numbly, spouse— they move quickly to make up little plates of some of the better choices for the other two to make this easier for them. Uthvir takes their with no complaint and actually eats a bit with vague interest and then the average amount you’d expect for food which, they think is good. Thenvunin looks as dubious as someone can while working to look regal (as if he has to) at first but upon seeing that Uthvir doesn’t die or spit it out he tries it as well and seems to deem it tolerable at least, they’re not sure but regardless it’s Something right?

As the feast goes on and they transition more to food from Elvhenan Thenvunin decides to take it upon himself to guide them through the courses like they had for him for which they’re very grateful, there’s a lot going on with some of these dishes and some of them are so ornate Inanallas isn’t sure they’re even meant to be eaten. However, it’s Uthvir who finally gets them out of the polite small talk realms.

“Inanallas, I haven’t had much of a chance to learn much about your people — my people now as well I suppose, which is a pity I think. Spouses should know at least that much about each other I think.”

Inan chokes a little on their wine. “Well, to start we’re one of the few more stationary clans, we settled in the far south in the mountains —“

“The mountains?!” Thenvunin gasps.

“In them? Or at the base? I imagine that must be difficult with magic so thin.” Uthvir does not miss a beat.

“No, in them. Empire people wouldn’t be bothered by traveling or living around the bottom of them but no one wants to go up them except for the children of the stone and they’re not exactly best friends with your people so even if we run into them it’s unlikely they’d give us away.”

Uthvir smirked. “True. Was that why you chose to settle there?”

Inan shrugs. “Most likely it was a factor. We’d had a campsite there or in the area so we already knew about the conditions and it was where the Keeper took the clan when we escaped an assault, but they died shortly after getting us there. Durgenara was their First so after that she decided we would stay there—it’s defensible, remote and ignored so it was really the best choice.”

“Durgenara seems like a very wise woman.”

Inanallas barks out a short involuntary laugh they stifle quietly with a hand, tinging a little pink. “Terrifyingly so.”

“But surely you could have found a less hostile environment to live in after the clan recuperated? Or continued moving as I’ve heard other clans did.” Thenvunin asked, fingering his glass’s stem nervously.

“True, but that has it’s own risks as well. You can get spotted and attacked while moving from camp to camp. Or have your sites discovered and find an ambush waiting for you. Even the clans who found work arounds to those problems like Malarenan’s clan still has to deal with all kinds of potential environmental disasters, her clan especially, since they’re sea faring. At least in the mountains we have some consistency and a strong position in case of an attack.”

“I suppose that is practical, but it must be so cold—“

They can’t help but smile a little. “It is, but that’s what spells and warm cloths are for.”

Thenvunin pouts a little, brows furrowing. “I suppose.”

She smiles at him, he’s handsome even when disapproving. They slip one of the little fancy cakes onto the pretty painted plate in front of him, one of the fanciest ones with all the decorations the baker could cram onto it.

“You’re very sweet to be so concerned, you know. I do appreciate it.”

Thenvunin flushes very prettily, it makes him a bit less scary. They can see some of the fact that he’s just a man now— a very handsome, very proper, very fancy man but still.

Eventually they all have to dance together for everyone in attendance, it’s some kind of imperial thing and deeply terrifying, if it weren’t for Dignity Inanallas would be locked in place and they’d have to move them around like a board. But as it goes they manage to not embarrass themselves, Uthvir dances with both of them for as short an amount of time as they can manage without looking rude then quickly redirects them into dancing with each other which goes on for much longer. Partially as Inanallas uses it to cover for Uthvir —just in case that’s needed they have nooooo idea— and partially because Thenvunin seems to enjoy dancing and it seems like the spousely thing to do to dance more because your partner likes it.

The whole first day of the celebrations, with all the actually important bits,  feels like it goes on for for-fucking-ever and is mostly just a series of obstacles in the shape of things that’d be fun if there was less of it or less pressure to look like they were enjoying themselves. Eventually Inanallas decides to call it a night, there’s only so much stress and cake they can take in one day and they can feel Uthvir flagging beside them, tiny hints of physical discomfort starting to show, while Thenvunin is tipsy working on drunk— or just drunk, they have no idea how to gauge his drunkness yet. They’re worried about whatever might be wrong with Uthvir and if Thenvunin has anymore fun they’re worried he might not be able to walk out of here under his own power.

So Inanallas begins the extraction process which is much more full of “wedding night” comments then they’d ever wanted to even know of in their life and a lot of very unpleasant, creepy looks from Andruil that crawl over Uthvir and then get turned to them where they get all triumphant and smug, which are excellent for making them even more worried about whatever the fuck is going on there then they already had been. They’re about to act on a plan to all but manhandle their spouses out of there before Andruil gets a chance to keep over and seal the fucking deal on being a creepy fuck when they catch eyes with Féwena who proceeds to sit down in the seat next to the huntress and be her blessedly implacable self.

They’d get her some good booze or knives or something for that.

Mythal has been kind enough to supply Inanallas and Uthvir quarters in her palace for this whole fiasco close to Thenvunin’s own, though there’s an ominous assumption that they’ll all be in Inanallas’s tonight at least.

Yeah. No.

They all make it out of the worst of the crowd fine but Thenvunin begins to have real trouble walking as the alcohol and exhaustion begin to mix full force then they get to the quieter, more sedate living quarter levels, so Inanallas decides to just carry him the rest of the way to be safe. He’s surprised at first and makes a very indignant sound while turning a bright red, Uthvir chuckles beside them.

“How romantic,” They tease. “Very fitting to carry your husband to your wedding bed, I feel a bit left out.”

“Well then climb on. I’ll carry both of you up.”

Uthvir cackles at that. “Now that’d be a sight!”

“No! Don’t!” Thenvunin hisses, clutching on to Inan. “ If you do they’ll topple over! I’m already heavy enough as it is…”

His protest trails off into a murmur as he frowns, looking down at himself unhappily. Inanallas doesn’t like it one bit, Thenvunin is very pretty and shouldn’t feel bad about being made of bones and things that have physical mass. They give him a bit of a squeeze, holding him closer.

“Nonsense, you weigh as much as an armful of roses.”

“No I don’t…”

“Really, I’m carrying right now and I can tell, as light as flowers.”

“Our new spouse is right, I’ve never found you to be challenge to lift.”

“Th-that is because you are a horrible lecherous brute who gains strength from their libido!” Thenvunin sputters, shifting in their grasp and nearly elbowing them in the face. Sweet creators.

Uthvir has to really struggle to keep it together at that one.

“Hm. Possibly, but it could also be because you’re a pleasure to hold.”

“Wh-why you! That’s— I mean of course I am!— but not for you to hold! You savage! I’m sure you love this! Now that you have me trapped in your clutches!”

Uthvir’s resolve shatters and they can’t help but laugh as Thenvunin seems to forget to consider the poor elf keeping him up as he tries to turn to face Uthvir properly in their straining arms. Inanallas gives them a long suffering look that’s lost as their face is crushed into Thenvunin’s side. Uthvir almost feels bad for them. Almost.

“I will admit, it was pleasant to hear that you would be one of my future spouses.”

“So you admit it! You admit your devious schemes to claim me as your own!”

“ I admit I find you very attractive and exceedingly interesting and am not distraught to be wedded to you.”

“Of course you do! I am very handsome and charming and a wonderful husband!”

“Naturally. Perhaps even the most handsome and charming, and certainly the best husband I’d ever had. ”

Thenvunin seems a bit lost on how to make a good comeback to that at the moment and instead harrumphs and settles back into Inanallas’s arms. He’s somehow even redder, every inch of him blushing from Uthvir’s teasing.

“Well… Good.”

Inanallas’s face finally reappears looking highly amused and confused, they give Uthvir a look, ‘is he always like this?’. They return with a smirk and a cocked brow, ‘pretty much’.

They all make it to their rooms and Uthvir helps Inanallas bring Thenvunin into his, which they’re incredibly thankful for once it becomes clear Thenvunin thinks they’re actually going to do some of the things in the “wedding night” comments. Even if he weren’t drunk Inanallas would jump out of her skin at the idea, it’s about a thousand years too soon for that shit.

Uthvir also seems to not really be in the mood and has clearly interacted enough with Thenvunin in situations like this to distract him from trying to seduce them or whatever and keep his feathers from getting ruffled or feelings hurt. While Uthvir keeps Thenvunin on task, Inan sets to finding something for him to sleep in (which is Shockingly difficult, what even counts as what in here???), divesting him of all his jewelry and letting down his hair which greatly helps to keep things from getting awkward as once they start massaging, carding and piecing his hair for braiding Thenvunin gets significantly sleepier and more pliant.

Between the two of them they easily maneuver the drowsy elf out of his lovely gown, revealing some equally lovely lingerie in the process (…something to keep in mind for Later, hopefully…), and get him nicely in his sleepwear, then all tucked up in his bed safe as can be. It only take a little more soothing talk before he’s out like a light. Bless.

Inanallas sighs heavily, resting their hands on their hips and turns to look at Uthvir who gives them about the same look back.

“Welp, Good night.”

The hunter nods slightly. “Good night.”

They both head for their own rooms, happy to be done with it all, for today at least. But once inside Inanallas starts to worry, will Thenvunin feel bad waking up alone from his wedding night? They got the sense Uthvir was about as eager as them to get some rest but maybe Thenvunin wanted some kind of magical, romanticy wedding night— they certainly wouldn’t blame him for wanting one or hoping he might still manage one even with all the fuckery of this marriage. It’s the kind of thing marriages are supposed to have. He should want it. Will he feel unwanted if he wakes up and neither of them is even there?

It’s a deeply worrying thought that eats that them as they work at removing the veil and headpiece in front of the mirror. They couldn’t stay dressed like this even if they did stay with him, it would all get ruined and be very uncomfortable. First things first is to change into something comfortable, then decide on what to do.

At first, they resolve to be there when he wakes in the morning with a lovely breakfast in bed just for him. But what if he wakes up in the middle of the night, realizes he’s all alone on his wedding night and stays up crying? What if he’s heartbroken over it for days? Weeks? Years? What if it sets the course for him being miserable for the entirety of their marriage. Inanallas’s heart sinks and explodes in panic at the thought. No. It’s just too horrible, they can’t do that to him. They leave their room and head quietly back into his, dithering just past the threshold of his bedroom, not sure of what to do.

They don’t want to get into —or even on— his bed without his permission.  It just feels awkward and wrong, but they do want to be somewhere where he can see them when he gets up so they can’t sleep out in the sitting room. There’s a settee with a pretty blanket or shawl or scarf or something elegantly draped on it to the side that looks like they could curl up on just fine. Quietly they slip over to it, remove the fancy cloth and cover themself with it as they lay down to sleep.

They wake up to the feel of cold metal claws gently carding through their hair. Blearily they look up to see Uthvir, standing over them carrying a tray of  breakfast looking over at Thenvunin. Feeling Inan stir they look back down at them, smirking a little. Which might be their regular expression, they drowsily muse.

“Did you sleep there the whole night?”

Inanallas sits up, their potentially makeshift blanket—and another actual blanket?— falling down. Huh.

“Yup.”

There’s something in Uthvir’s expression they can’t quite parse. They smirk wider, showing rows of sharp teeth.

“How dutiful a spouse you are, better than a hound I dare say, you didn’t even get mud on the covers.”

Inan sniggers. “I always make sure to clean my paws before I get on fancy things. But really, I worried about how he’d react to waking up alone so…”

They shrug as Uthvir hums knowingly. “I had a similar thought, that’s why I came with this.” They lift the tray slightly.

Inanallas gets up and stretches a little before snagging little chunk of fruit from the spread.

“Truly you are wise and mighty.”

Uthvir grins boardly.