Solo Log: Elopement

**Fall 68, 501 AOV**

It had started as a joke.

Why bother waiting? Neither of them had family to invite, Xi because she was supposed to be dead and Hoya because she'd not been in touch with hers for decades. Friends were harder, but Hoya had been surprisingly shy about even telling those she was closest with about the engagement, asking Xi to keep things quiet.

It first comes up a few weeks after Marcel and Dreues' wedding, while the newly married couple was away on their honeymoon and Hoya was helping cook dinner at the orphanage.

*"We could elope," Xi mentioned, quietly. She knew their conversation was free from prying ears, considering the screaming children still at play in the yard.*

*Hoya glanced her fiancee's way briefly, still stirring the pot of soup. "That's--"*

*"I'm supposed to be* dead*," she presses, gentle. "Unless we found someone who agrees to keep quiet, I would have to get married under a pseudonym. And that's just the start!"*

*"I...don't think I would want to have a big party like Marcel and Dreues did," the gnome finally concedes. "So many people watching…"*

They don't talk about it again for several days. This time, it comes up as Hoya is flipping through her stack of music in search of some piece she swears she has. Somewhere.

*"You could ask the King to do it."*

*This brings her to a complete stop, dropping her armful of music as she gapes at Xambria. "Are you* insane*? We can't ask the King for a whole bunch of reasons, starting with the fact that you're supposedly dead and we made your body with the assistance of his personal scientist and* not *his permission."*

*"Why? Those Rulership powers he has, I bet he knows I was around when you met. And Tinker didn't use any resources he couldn't get his hands on legitimately." Xi reaches to help gather the scattered sheets of music, a brow raised.*

*"Yeah-- but-- don't you think the King has more important stuff to do than marry some people?"*

*"Hoya. You were knighted in front of all of Flint. You're all figureheads for the monarchy. He has at least some vested interest in keeping you all happy, or at least content," she presses. "Plus he seems like the kind of person who'll get a kick out of it."*

*Finally, Hoya snatches the collected sheets of music from Xi with a scowl; Xi laughs at the other's obvious flustered expression. "I'm not asking the king to do* anything*!"*

It's late in the fall, just days before their scheduled departure for Crysillyir, and in the middle of the night when they talk about it again.

Xambria doesn't need to sleep, technically. Still, she spends every night resting with Hoya, allowing her conscious mind to relax and drift. Tonight, she's startled from her cognitive dozing by Hoya pressing up into her chest, burrowing her face over where her heart would be. The dampness of tears soaks into her shirt, and she shifts to get a better look at the creature curled up against her.

*"Xi? Are you 'wake?"*

*"Mmmhm," she hums quietly, pressing a hand to Hoya's head and wrapping her other arm around her.*

*The sensory input from the mechanical body is remarkable; she can feel the gnome's tired exhale across her simulated skin, the slight shiver that runs through her. "I don' wanna wait."*

*That gets her full attention, and she tilts her gaze down to see Hoya curling up as close to her as she can. Xi holds her just a little bit tighter.*

*"What's even t'point to waiting," she murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. "What 'f somethin' happens while we're away?"*

*Xi smoothes Hoya's hair, once and then twice and then again, gentle. "Nothing is going to happen to you."*

*"But-- what 'f somethin'* does*?"*

*Xi is quiet for a few moments, fingers still gently brushing through Hoya's hair, soothing. "That doesn't change anything that we feel, you know."*

*"I wanna marry you now. I love you* now*." Hoya shifts, and Xambria can feel the stutter of her chest as she cries.*

*"Then we'll figure something out." She kisses the top of Hoya's head, easiest to reach, and pulls her just a tiny bit closer. "Love you too. Try to get some sleep."*

Which brings them to this moment, standing at the door to Daewin's Home for Orphans the day after Marcel and Dreues have returned from their time away. In consideration of the gnome's nerves the archaeologist is the one who knocks.

Hoya is gripping Xi's hand, tightly, when Dreues appears in the doorway, smiling. He looks as if he had been in the middle of some chores, considering his apron and slightly disheveled hair. "Oh, good morning, Hoya," he begins, quirking a brow at the somewhat unfamiliar person beside her. He thinks for a long few seconds, and then, "...and...is that *Xambria*?"

Sheepish, Hoya waves; Xambria smiles and nods. "G'morning, Dreues. Did you and Marcel have a nice trip?"

"Very nice, thank you…" his eyes rove up and down the robotic body once, and then twice, visibly confused. "When we left you two were still sharing," he finally elaborates, stepping aside to give the two women space to come in.

From down the hall, a booming bark echoes. A second later and a very enthusiastic Squirrel bounds towards the newcomers, claws tapping on the floor and tail wagging so enthusiastically his entire body is shaking. Hoya squeaks in alarm, shrinking behind Xi who steps between them; clicking his tongue Dreues stops the dog mid-stride. "Come on, Squirrel, you know she's scared of you."

A big hand pats the ginormous dog's head; the dog in question whines as he is again denied the attention of the small visitor who never wants to play with him. From upstairs, "Honeybear, who's at the door?"

"It's Hoya," Dreues shouts in return, inhaling to add presumably *and Xambria* to his reply; he stops quickly at the tiny fingers on his wrist, the small gnome shaking her head quickly. 'It's a surprise,' she mouths.

"Tell her I'll be right down!"

(Quietly, Xi nudges Hoya in the side. "*Honeybear*," she whispers, "maybe I *should* call you green bean.")

In time, they’re herded to the kitchen and coffee is brewed as Xi surreptitiously helps Hoya into her seat while Marcel gathers two mismatched mugs from the cabinet and places them on the counter. It’s strangely domestic, watching him work around the kitchen, but it’s familiar and homey and at least that helps Hoya’s nerves, at least a little.

"Can you promise to keep a secret?"

Marcel considers the two of them, sitting at the small kitchen table as he pours two cups of coffee. He plops a single sugar cube into Hoya's and adds a small dash of milk before sliding the mug her way, preparing his own before settling across from them. It feels rude, not offering anything to Xambria, but...well, they all *understand* the circumstances.

"I can't believe you're asking me that," he huffs. "Of course I can keep a secret."

Hoya hides her lips behind the mug, nerves driving her to silence. If Marcel can sense it, he's gracious enough to say nothing of it, instead focusing on his coffee and his teammate's guest. "I wish you would've told us. Someone should've been with you when you tried that spell."

"It went fine," Xambria replies calmly, one hand settling gently against the gnome's forearm, the gaze she directs to the human bard sharp. She's no skilled liar and is more than aware of that--between the stern expression and furrowed brows, she is making it clear that she expects Marcel to say nothing of it. "Hoya is an excellent caster, even if she thinks otherwise. Besides, I know it isn't the same...but I am glad she's gotten to try it at least once before you all go galavanting after high ranking officials to borrow their bodies for a few days."

He huffs a laugh, "you make it sound like it's nothing."

"Helps me worry about you all a little bit less."

"Teach Dreues how to do that."

Xambria snorts, quirking a brow; Hoya abruptly sets down her--untouched--coffee and ignores the splash of it that lands on her blouse.

"We want to get married."

This brings the previous good natured chatter to an abrupt halt, and the other two turn to her, surprised. Xi was expecting something like this, considering it's her fiancee's general approach to uncomfortable conversations, but Marcel looks somewhere between shocked and pleased. For a minute, excitement flits across his expression, before he schools his features into something a little bit more composed.

Instead, he abandons his coffee and restraint, crossing around the small kitchen table and sweeping Hoya into a hug, abrupt and enthusiastic--and sincere, if the barely muffled squeal is any indication. Surprised by his unusual affection and now lifted completely from her chair, the gnome laugh-sobs into Marcel's shoulder.

"It's-- I--"

Xi reaches up, pressing her palm to the small of Hoya's back and rubbing soothing circles into it. The night before had ended up like this, and though she was very much in favor of eloping and being done with this engagement nonsense, she hated that part of the driver--

"--'f somethin' *h-happens*-- I j-just--"

It's Marcel who seems to understand her fears the most, eventually setting Hoya back on her chair, kneeling uncertainly in front of her so he can catch her eyes. It's typically his *little* but not little sister who is prone to big displays of emotion and the associated wisdom; this time he just holds her hand and offers a gentle squeeze. "I understand."

The three are quiet for a few minutes, Hoya collecting herself and Marcel breezing back to his seat as if nothing had just happened. Nonchalant, Xi pushes the abandoned coffee back towards Hoya with a singular raised eyebrow, waiting patiently for her to continue. When she doesn't, instead choosing to focus on gently swirling her drink in her hands, she sighs heavily and levels her gaze on Marcel.

"No big ceremonies or parties," Xi elaborates, quiet. "We almost eloped before you and Dreues got back."

"Hm," is the only reply that gets, Marcel thoughtful. On the one hand, he never thought the two were particularly reserved--and considering how Xambria ended up where she was *now* the archaeologist is hardly the type he would expect to be timid. Hoya...well, she'd always been friendly, even when her friendship wasn't exactly wanted. But she had been shy, especially when they'd first met, sheepish and uncertain when she'd approached him about his performance. It's so long ago now he's almost forgotten.

"You haven't even asked why we're here telling *you*, if we're planning on eloping," she quips, rolling her eyes. Xambria waits, exactly fifteen seconds, before pressing on. "I thought we should ask the King. He probably has *some* interest in keeping you lot happy."

Nothing. Not even a flicker of realization. The sigh is long-suffering as her gaze flicks to the heraldry that had come after the knighting, now carefully hanging on the wall in the Beaumont-Alexeyev household.

"But a Knight can act in his stead."

Understanding dawns quickly on his face, followed by shock. "Are you asking *me* to--"

"It's-- it's j-just, who else c-could do it, and k-keep a secret if we asked, and-- and who else *would* I ever ask b-but you, is all," Hoya stammers, sinking in her seat. "B-b-but-- if you don't want t-to, that's f-*fine*--"

She is abruptly cut off by another hug, this one from behind and much larger arms. Dreues' grip is surprisingly gentle for a man his size, and he always takes care with his husband's small not-technically sister. "What he was *going* to say is 'yes, I would be honored.'" He ruffles Hoya's hair briefly, grinning. "*Right*, Marcel?"

They've talked of this before. There's no shame in having strong feelings, in being swept away by the emotion of it all. Besides, what their friends needed now wasn't all the enthusiasm of a large wedding party. What they needed was their *support*.

Dreues straightens, pulling out the remaining chair at the table and taking a seat beside his husband. Without hesitation, he throws an arm around Marcel's shoulders and laughs brightly, pulling him close and ignoring the splashing of coffee on the table.

"Of-- of course I would be honored," Marcel finally stammers out, blinking at the two women, still clearly processing the request of the women sitting before him. "I'm just-- I'm *surprised*, is all."

Xi squeezes the small hand tangled in hers, smiling gently. "Thank you, Marcel." Hoya doesn't move to speak again, a furious flush creeping up her neck and shrinking in her seat. Even with those she's closest to, she is so easily flustered. (Xambria thinks to herself, as she often does, that it's *adorable*.)

"I don't suppose you'll be any more shocked if we asked you to do it today."

Dreues snorts, clapping a hand against his husband's back and grinning, glancing his way. To his credit, the bard has managed to keep a relatively straight face at this revelation, though his blue eyes have widened to bug-sized proportions. "*Today*?"

A nod. "Today. You are all leaving in two days, and we don't want to wait."

"Even though it's getting cooler out, the garden still has some lovely flowers blooming and it's quite secluded," Dreues begins, gently. There's a touch of understanding in his eyes, "you'll have some privacy. And we can keep the children inside for a little while without causing too much of a fuss."

Xambria's smile widens, and she squeezes Hoya's shoulders. "You see? No catastrophes."

Across the table, Marcel clears his throat, finally setting down his coffee and leveling his gaze on the engaged couple. "If I'm marrying you in our garden, it will absolutely *not* be looking like that."

The two have been exceptional sports. Neither are particularly interested in traditional wedding fashion, and absolutely can't be bothered with makeup or elaborate outfits. Dreues was responsible for tidying up Xambria, while Marcel spent time preparing Hoya.

He had managed to convince the gnome to wear just a touch of blush, after promising not to go overboard, and the splash of color brightened her eyes exponentially. As he sits behind her, working her hair into some order, he hums quietly to himself.

"Your hair's getting long."

She twists, peeking over her shoulder, not caring how the movement pulls her hair sharply. "I guess."

He uses a free hand to turn her face forward again to have access to her hair once more. Carefully, he twists hair back from her face, pinning it in place and glancing briefly at the few flowers they'd plucked from the garden to use. "You know we've prepared for this, right? It's going to be okay."

Even sitting behind her, he knows she's wringing her hands, stiffening in her seat, immediately tense and uncertain. "B-but--"

"I'm happy for you, and for Xambria. And I know you're not doing this now just because of the risk in Crysillyir. But it's *going* to be all right. We're going to be *fine*."

He makes a point to sound convincing, hoping to reassure himself as much as the bride. As far as he's concerned, he won't *allow* anything to happen to her--never again, after the one time he should have been able to intervene and didn't and the catastrophic outcome of *that*. Anything coming after his sister would have to go through him *first*. Still, Marcel is very unsure of what to do when she whirls in her chair to face him, eyes full of tears.

"It's-- it's r-really *q-quiet* in my head all the t-time now, and-- and what if we *aren't* okay? What if-- if s-something *bad* happens, or s-someone finds Xambria while we're g-gone and *takes* her? I-- I'm *scared*, Marcel," by the time she finishes, she's sobbing, tears smudging the carefully applied blush as she tries to hide her eyes behind her hands.

"Hoya, hey," hesitant, he looks her up and down, visibly uncertain.

"And-- and m-maybe we shouldn't've-- maybe it'd be b-better if I hadn't--" she inhales a great gasp of air, shaking, "when we m-moved her soul she was st-still for so long, I thought maybe I…"

Finally, he reaches for her, forcing his own nerves down as he wraps her small body in his arms.

"I th-thought maybe I did it wrong. And-- and now I have to do it *again*, and what if-- if--"

"Hoya, shhh," he holds her tighter, "stop. You're getting married, to the woman you love. We can worry about tomorrow *tomorrow*." He isn't sure that he believes this philosophy, as he holds his self-proclaimed older sister close, rocking slightly in an attempt to soothe her the way his husband has done for him.

"I l-lost my family once," she whispers, face burrowed into his chest. "I don't want to lose Xi too."

"Now you're being ridiculous," Marcel chides gently. "Where exactly do you think Xi is going? Nowhere, that's where. And you aren't going anywhere, either. Some Obscurati nuts can't stop us, and we'll be back before they can even miss us."

She sniffles, "you-- you're sure?"

Marcel is absolutely positively, one-hundred-percent *not* sure. He doesn't have the confidence of Xambria, or the usual lighthearted faith of Hoya, or Dreues' belief in their skill and luck. But saying so...that is the wrong answer. Now, and later, and at any point moving forward-- the best they can do is prepare, and be confident.

He squeezes her just a hair tighter. "Of course I am."

"Now we'll just wash your face, and finish getting you ready. It won't do for the bride to be so upset on her wedding day."

Down the hall, Dreues and Xambria are faring at least a little bit better, as they pick through a combination of Cleone's borrowed and Marcel's own clothes to find something more "wedding appropriate."

Holding up a plain brown skirt and blouse, the lycanthrope offers the outfit to the bride, "what do you think?"

"I've already told you I don't wear skirts."

To her credit, she's plucked a few simple shirts and set them aside, thoughtful. "Marcel says I should teach you how to worry less, but that's only because he's not currently living in my head."

"Very funny," he replies dryly. "You *do* seem awfully calm."

Xambria shoots him a glare, gaze on the hat he found somewhere on a shelf. "So help me, if you tell me I should wear that hat I'm walking right out that door." She surveys a frilled top that's currently hanging on a nearby hook with a frown. "Besides, if I think about the trouble they get into, I'll worry myself sick. I've seen them execute a 'plan', Dreues."

Plan, very clearly, has quotation marks around it.

"They're plenty trained, you know," he replies, carefully putting the hat back and instead digging out a pair of dark brown slacks that he thinks belong to Cleone; he hands them to Xi without looking her way. "Try these. Anyway, I worked with Mona and Marcel, before-- well, before Cleone and Hoya joined them. And they are skilled at what they do. I imagine they've only grown *more* competent since I retired."

"I know they are," she sighs, taking the slacks and comparing them to the tops she had amassed before choosing a neat white blouse that is definitely Marcel's because she has seen him wear it. "But...I do still worry. Have you *met* Hoya? She'd probably let you kill her if you asked nicely enough, and I'm not just saying that because I've stopped her from doing it."

He huffs a laugh, "you haven't seen her when she really digs her heels in, I take it?"

Ever the gentleman, Dreues remains with his back to her as she changes. She still struggles with buttons and clasps, a byproduct of relearning how to be the sole owner of a body, but keeps her attention on the conversation. "Of course I have."

"Not if that's your take on her niceness," Dreues replies flatly. "You do know how she and Marcel met, don't you?"

"He was performing in some-- *shoot*, these stupid buttons…" not terribly concerned about privacy anymore (what's even there to see, now, but false rubber skin and mechanical parts? Far easier to hide than extraplanar eyeballs.) "--some local play."

He steps back, twice, until he can place a hand on her shoulder. "I don't mind helping, if you need. And yeah, it was at a play he was in. Evidently she was fascinated by his dulcimer and wanted him to teach her. And liked watching his acting, in the play."

Stiff, Xi turns, the fingers of her right hand locked, "damn fine motor skills. Yes, please."

"So, she came every night. For more than a week, she sat front and center and watched him, trying to catch him after. It was only because Gideon pushed him to talk with her that Marcel ever did. She wasn't exactly a *nuisance*, but she was starting to...stand out." When he turns to face her, his eyes are still closed. He's mumbling as he offers his hands. "Just help me find the buttons. I won't look."

"I didn't realize she harassed him into talking," she replies, guiding his fingers to the first button, tense. If he senses it, it doesn't show as he works to close them. "I can picture it, though. Already standing out in the crowd, and in the front seat every night for days-- I bet it drove him nuts."

Dreues chuckles, deftly managing the buttons and carefully making no comment on how the archaeologist kept just slightly pulling away. "He swears he was nothing but polite when they talked."

"Somehow I doubt it."

"Don't mock my honeybee!"

Xambria snorts a laugh, still trying to loosen her locked fingers. "If you two use those nicknames one more time I'm *really* going to leave."

As promised, the garden is beautiful even in the cooling weather. Gorgeous multicolored petunias in bright reds, blues, whites, and yellows grow around hardy evergreen ferns. Vibrant burgundy and orange blooming azalea bushes grow close to an old, sturdy maple tree that hasn't yet lost it's deep red leaves. At the base of another old maple grows a patch of peach camellias, obviously well cared for. Dreues herded playful children inside and posted Xambria at the base of the oldest maple tree.

In the end, they had talked the archaeologist into a frilled blouse with delicate white buttons down the front and loose, lace- and ribbon-decorated sleeves with a pair of deep green trousers. Marcel, with some prying, had managed to convince her to allow him to twist her hair up into a loose chignon, and he finished the style with one of the deep burgundy azaleas.

Limited to her own clothes due to her size, Marcel simply dressed Hoya up in her neatest brown jumper and blouse, then insisted that she borrow a delicate pearl and gold filigree brooch. Her hair, which he had been forced to style a second time after her outburst earlier, has been pulled back into gentle twists and pinned half up; he decorated it with a few small white petunias and a single matching azalea.

Now, he simply had the pleasure of watching the couple see each other for the first time since he and Dreues had separated them in the morning. Generally an open book, he's not surprised to find the gnome already near tears when she sees her bride; he *is* however a bit startled to see Xambria similarly emotional. Similarly emotional, and physical in a way he vividly recalled her avoiding when they had first met, kneeling in the grass to press her forehead to her bride's and brush a stray curl from her face with a small, affectionate smile.

"He even got you to wear a touch of *makeup*, I see," Xi murmurs quietly, amusement clear in her tone.

Between the blush and the embarrassed flush crawling up her neck and cheeks, the healthy pink is rapidly becoming a bright red. She fidgets nervously. "Don't laugh."

"I think it looks very nice, and you're welcome."

By now, her ears are also bright red and Xi can't help but giggle at her reaction. Marcel has to clear his throat to cover for his own chuckle, though the quick glare he gets from Hoya suggests that she noticed. In the brief silence, Xambria settles fully on the grass, legs folded beneath her, still eye-level with her bride.

"Anyway," he finally states, loudly, "we're-- well. It's just us and Dreues here today, to witness your marriage."

There's probably a script somewhere, but Marcel certainly doesn't know it and Hoya and Xambria don't seem to particularly care if he's reciting everything by the book. If they did, they should've picked someone who actually *does* weddings and not sprung the request on him two hours ago.

Collecting his thoughts, he is about to continue, then…stops, aware suddenly that he was currently standing above the both of them, as Xi had decided to kneel in the grass. He's very used to standing at twice his sister's size, but it very suddenly feels...wrong. After a quick glance at Dreues (who does nod approvingly), he kneels himself. Marcel makes a point of ignoring Hoya's surprised little noise.

"Marriage is a lifelong union between two people who have found that they can't and won't be apart ever again. It is a commitment to love, to care, to work hard, and to stay together through the good and bad, no matter what may come."

It becomes less intimidating as he continues...and far more emotional, not able to completely remove himself from the memory of his own wedding. He's grateful for the foresight he had had, to cast a quick glamor over himself before starting the simple ceremony. It wouldn't do for the officiant to be crying, too.

He offers a hand to each of them, and when the brides oblige he brings them together, folding both his hands over theirs. For the first time since he's met her, the archaeologist doesn't wriggle away; her focus remains entirely on the gnome standing before her, instead.

"As you exchange your wedding vows, you, Hoya, and you, Xambria, will declare your intentions for a lasting partnership in marriage. Are you both prepared to make this commitment?"

"Of course."

He takes Hoya's squeak and accompanying enthusiastic nod as a yes.

"Then we'll begin." He turns to Xambria, and though he still finds the woman intimidating at times, smiles genuinely. She's the woman his sister loves, and that's all he needs to set aside his own nerves.

"Please repeat after me. I, Xambria, take you, Hoya, to be my lawfully wedded wife. I promise to love and cherish you, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live."

She tightens her hold on the small hands in hers, dipping her chin just enough to lock eyes with her bride, before she repeats as instructed, "I, Xambria, take you, Hoya, to be my lawfully wedded wife." Though the technological marvel that she occupies hasn't the capacity for tears, her voice still swells with the accompanying emotion as if she could. "I promise to love and to cherish you, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live."

Beneath the glamor he finds himself easily as tearful as the two brides and pushes down the emotion, thankful for his ability to bluff. The memory of his own recent wedding only intensifies the feeling swelling in his stomach, but he refuses to allow himself the indulgence of the emotion he'd experienced in this exact position just a few weeks before--or, at least he refuses to allow himself the indulgence of *visibly* experiencing the emotion.

"Thank you. Now, Hoya, please repeat after me. I, Hoya, take you, Xambria, to be my lawfully wedded wife. I promise to love and cherish you, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live "

Hoya sniffs, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand; Xambria squeezes the hand she's holding tighter. "I, H-Hoya, take you, Xambria, to b-be-- to be my lawfully wedded wife. I p-promise to love, and to cherish you, for b-better or worse or richer or p-poorer or sickness or health, as l-long as we b-both shall l-live."

By the time she finishes--and it *does* take her some time, stumbling over her words and sniffling the whole way through--she's in enough tears that Xi pulls her close, rubbing small circles into her back.

"You have to *breathe*, Hoya," she whispers, gentle.

Just a head above them, Marcel shifts uncertainly, before resting a hand on the gnome's shoulder. "Do you need a minute?"

Hiccuping, she shakes her head. "N-no, 'm s-sorry-- it's j-just-- I'm n-*nervous*, and when I g-get nervous, even when it's f-for a *g-good* thing, I can't *help* it--"

Xi chuckles, squeezing her just a little tighter. "I know. I think it's cute," she rocks her bride just slightly, still rumbling with laughter. "Well, as long as it's not because you're upset."

Across the garden, the lycanthrope shares a glance with the younger bard, and they both shrug, a silent agreement to wait it out. Marcel isn't unfamiliar with Hoya's nervous stutter, though he was expecting less nerves and more excitement. Dreues' look suggests that *he* isn't surprised by it one bit.

So he gives his little not-little sister time to pull herself together, and she does eventually lean back from her bride and scrub the tears from her eyes. "M's-sorry," she murmurs.

"Don't apologize."

Xi just smiles encouragingly, taking both of Hoya's small hands in her own once again and miming a deep breath. The relief in her eyes is evident when her bride unconsciously mimics her; Marcel heaves a quiet sigh in thanks that Hoya would be kept from fainting. When the gnome is no longer hyperventilating and her mechanical bride has stopped miming deep breaths, he figures it's safe to proceed.

"Now. You have rings?" A pause, glancing between the two women, before Marcel realizes that he had never even asked the spur-of-the-moment brides if they had any. "--you…*do*...have rings, right?"

Breaking their gripping hands apart, Hoya digs into her pocket and produces a small box proudly. Inside is a silver band with small citrine stones embedded within; he senses instantly the magic of a ring of protection and finds his lips twitching upwards just slightly. It's so very much like her to choose something like this. Her own unique magic, too, he can sense emanating from the ring. She had enchanted it herself.

It's *disgustingly* endearing.

Xambria similarly produces a box, smaller than the one Hoya had and reveals a tiny silver ring engraved with delicate clusters of flowers and leaves, a plant he is unfamiliar with but that Hoya immediately recognizes. "They won't even *grow* here, how did you--"

"You told me how you choose your name, every time you change it," Xi explains quietly. "And that you'd last been studying--"

"*Flowers*," he breathes, suddenly understanding. "Those are *hoya* flowers?"

A smile and a nod, from both women, and Marcel is sure that in spite of all of the merciless teasing that Xambria and Hoya are *equally* as disgusting as he and Dreues. If he hadn't been sworn to secrecy, he would be teasing them just as much if not more, now because he has the chance. Maybe later, during supper, he'll have his chance.

"Rings. Right," he clears his throat, concealing the thickness of tears.in his voice, and takes the ring out of the box Xambria holds before offering it to her. "We use rings in marriage as the unbroken circle represents unending love and devotion. Xambria, if you would please repeat after me: I give you this ring as a sign of my love. With it, I join my life to yours."

"I give you this ring as a sign of my love," like fastening buttons, the movements required to slip a ring on her bride's tiny finger still elude her; the gnome helps and they manage to make it work, Hoya guiding Xi's actions with her own hand. With the delicate ring in place, she continues."With it, I join my life to yours."

As expected, Hoya sniffles again, her grip on Xambria's hands tightening. She pulls the enchanted ring from its box and sets it aside, blue eyes flickering to Marcel as she shifts her hold to be able to slide the ring on her bride's finger.

"Okay, Hoya. Repeat after me, please. I give you this ring as a sign of my love. With it, I join my life to yours."

With a motion that he's unfamiliar with, she gingerly works the tiny joints in Xi's hands. "I g-give you this r-ring as a sign of my love." She slips the ring of protection onto the offered mechanical finger. "With it, I j-join my life t-to yours."

Marcel clears his throat, taking the opportunity to swipe at his eyes while the brides were preoccupied; his husband's knowing smile suggest he's not as convincing as he would like. "Then by the power vested in me by the King of Risur, it's my honor to pronounce you wife and wife. You may–"

He doesn't even finish before Hoya springs across the grass into her wife’s arms, effectively knocking the two of them to the ground. Laughing a bit hysterically, the two kiss, nervous giggling much louder than their officiant’s final declaration: "–you may kiss the bride."