shadowsong26 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2023-08-11 07:37 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2023-08-11 07:37 pm
Vert #11
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Second Wedding Day
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Vert #11. Marriage
Supplies and Materials: photography, silhouette, life drawing, pastels (Year of the OTP event; June prompt, wedding/proposal), yarn, gift wrap, frame
Word Count: 423
Rating: PG
Characters: Taz
Warnings: Don't think so, nope!
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Taz and Dallu had technically married already, before they left the Islands to sail North. But it had been a quick, understated thing; just the two of them and a more senior Captain who owed her a favor, just the most important exchanges of vows and tokens.
And that had been--all right, she supposed. At the time. After everything that had happened in the last few days of the War; everything she’d lost, fighting with Kes…besides, it was how those few who married outsiders did it, for the most part.
But now…
No one ever accused Taz of being shy, of not liking the shine and the glitter and the spectacle of things. The fact that her wedding had been missing all of that, even if there’d been damn good reasons, was a little sad.
So, when Dallu told her that his Elders wanted them to marry again, in the Northern fashion, of course she agreed. His folk rarely brought outsiders home to marry, either, but there wasn’t a tacit tradition to keep things quiet and simple when one did.
Which meant she was here, in the soft wool dress, cut in the traditional style of a Northern bride, dyed her favorite turquoise (the North didn’t have a favored bridal color; so long as the gown was bright enough to stand out against the ice); plaiting her hair with woven leather cords and fragile Midsummer blossoms, carefully preserved at their peak.
Along with the best of the glittering gold jewelry she had gathered over the course of her career; her gown belted with her best belt; her sword hanging on her hip where it belonged.
She had a new sheath, though; decorated with a beaded pattern her mother-in-law had taught her.
All the wealth and sparkle an Islander Captain would bring to any important ceremony, let alone their own wedding--wrapped around the warmth and beauty of a Northern bride.
It was, she thought, exactly right for the day.
The last touch was a pendant, carefully carved from her best piece of mother-of-pearl; one she would wear until she gave it to Dallu as they said their vows. Traditionally made of ivory, but, well, she was an Islander. The shell seemed more fitting.
Careful not to disturb the flowers in her hair, she put the necklace on and took one last look at her reflection.
She adjusted one of the gold chains in her hair, then smiled, and turned to leave the room and join her husband for their second wedding day.
Story: Second Wedding Day
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Vert #11. Marriage
Supplies and Materials: photography, silhouette, life drawing, pastels (Year of the OTP event; June prompt, wedding/proposal), yarn, gift wrap, frame
Word Count: 423
Rating: PG
Characters: Taz
Warnings: Don't think so, nope!
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Taz and Dallu had technically married already, before they left the Islands to sail North. But it had been a quick, understated thing; just the two of them and a more senior Captain who owed her a favor, just the most important exchanges of vows and tokens.
And that had been--all right, she supposed. At the time. After everything that had happened in the last few days of the War; everything she’d lost, fighting with Kes…besides, it was how those few who married outsiders did it, for the most part.
But now…
No one ever accused Taz of being shy, of not liking the shine and the glitter and the spectacle of things. The fact that her wedding had been missing all of that, even if there’d been damn good reasons, was a little sad.
So, when Dallu told her that his Elders wanted them to marry again, in the Northern fashion, of course she agreed. His folk rarely brought outsiders home to marry, either, but there wasn’t a tacit tradition to keep things quiet and simple when one did.
Which meant she was here, in the soft wool dress, cut in the traditional style of a Northern bride, dyed her favorite turquoise (the North didn’t have a favored bridal color; so long as the gown was bright enough to stand out against the ice); plaiting her hair with woven leather cords and fragile Midsummer blossoms, carefully preserved at their peak.
Along with the best of the glittering gold jewelry she had gathered over the course of her career; her gown belted with her best belt; her sword hanging on her hip where it belonged.
She had a new sheath, though; decorated with a beaded pattern her mother-in-law had taught her.
All the wealth and sparkle an Islander Captain would bring to any important ceremony, let alone their own wedding--wrapped around the warmth and beauty of a Northern bride.
It was, she thought, exactly right for the day.
The last touch was a pendant, carefully carved from her best piece of mother-of-pearl; one she would wear until she gave it to Dallu as they said their vows. Traditionally made of ivory, but, well, she was an Islander. The shell seemed more fitting.
Careful not to disturb the flowers in her hair, she put the necklace on and took one last look at her reflection.
She adjusted one of the gold chains in her hair, then smiled, and turned to leave the room and join her husband for their second wedding day.
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