Chapter Text
When Agnea and her sister Pala were young, they used to play dress-up with their mother’s clothes. She had so many beautiful dresses and blouses and robes, most of them lovingly stitched by their father. Garud made clothes for his daughters, too: colorful, flouncy, frilly pieces that made the young Bristarnis the envy of Cropdale. He would make their wedding dresses one day. He said that often, especially when Agnea and Pala pleaded with him to try on Cuani’s wedding dress, but it was always off limits. Wait another twenty… no, thirty years, and you’ll have a dress of your own , he would say.
Pala was enamored with the idea of a wedding. She had always been the more romantic of the two sisters. She fell in and out of love with all the pretty boys and girls in Cropdale so easily. But Agnea didn’t have time to pursue something silly like romance. She had to take care of her family and pursue her dreams–where was the time to go on dates and chase after boys?
Well, apparently she found the time during her mission to save the world.
Agnea isn’t drunk but she feels like it, swaying to and fro, giggling like a fool. Her feet hardly touch the ground as she waltzes through the packed, loud tavern in Oresrush. Partitio and his friends really know how to throw a Thank-the-Gods-We’re-Not-All-Dead party! Like he has a gravitational pull on her, Agnea ends up at Hikari’s table, opting to sit half on his chair and half on his lap, still giggling all the while. Maybe later, when the elation of defeating Vide and restoring day to the world has faded, Agnea will look back on this and be mortified , but for now, she doesn’t have a single care in the world. No one has a care in the world.
Hikari, maybe a couple drinks in, leans over to her ear and asks a bit loudly, “I love you. May I marry you?”
Agnea, still caught up in it all, smacks a wet kiss to his cheek and replies a bit loudly, “I love you too! Yes!”
Then, at the top of her lungs, she hollers, “TEMENOS!”
“I’m here, I’m here,” their resident holyman says, swaying upwards from where he’d momentarily passed out at the same table they’re sitting at. Half a dozen wine glasses lay before him, conscientiously drained dry. Temenos absently waves his hand and someone automatically places another in his hand. He throws back the red wine to the cheers of several people nearby. Neatly, he places this glass amongst the others. His eyes are still sharp despite the ruddiness of his cheeks. “Yes?”
“We wanna get married!” Agnea shouts, patting Hikari’s chest in case there’s any doubt.
“We would be… we would be very grateful if you could, uh…,” Hikari trails off as something else distracts him. Agnea gently turns his head back to Temenos. He blinks, getting back on track. “Will you officiate?”
Agnea isn’t very sure how they get outside, but in the next instant, she and Hikari and Temenos and all of her other friends are squinting their eyes at the brilliantly shining sun as it crests over the red cliffs. Little white flowers dot the arid landscape. Lovely birdsong harmonizes with the echoed sounds of the party still ranging back in the tavern. Exhaustion has fully settled into Agnea’s bones, making her feel like the slightest breeze will knock her over. But Hikari’s arm around her waist keeps her steady. He’s so sturdy and warm and nice, and Agnea is very glad she’s marrying him. She hopes she doesn’t fall asleep in the middle of the ceremony.
Behind them, Partitio clutches his hat to his chest and weeps big, rolling tears. He’s probably the most drunk out of any of them, but Castti is hardly better off, clinging to his arm and lamenting how they’re so young but all grown up and she can’t believe the kids are getting married.
Ochette and Throné decorate Agnea and Hikari with flowers and random pieces of jewelry that hopefully were not stolen from the lovely people of Oresrush. By the time they run out of things to give, Agnea carries a makeshift bouquet and Hikari wears a flower crown laced through with pearls and a golden chain.
Finally, Osvald grimly puts a hand on Agnea and Hikari’s shoulders and says, “I am so proud of you. May your marriage last forever.” Then, in a stunning display of sobriety, he wobbles backwards and almost trips over Akala.
Agnea wouldn’t have it any other way. She nuzzles her smile into Hikari’s shoulder, earning a kiss on her temple. That’s jumping the gun a bit– the kiss comes at the end! she wants to tease him–but really, who cares? They just saved the world! They’re in love! Agnea needs to marry this man right now before she explodes!
Temenos does not have a holy book or script before him, so, as he is wont to do with religious matters, he wings it. “Dearly beloved, we have gathered this morning to see our friends Hikari Ku and Agnea Bristarni wed.”
Partitio, even while sobbing, manages to whistle. Ochette cheers like they’re at the end of the ceremony, but when Osvald quietly explains the process, she apologizes in a faux-whisper, “Sorry! Keep going, Temmy, you’re doing great.”
“Yes, thank you,” Temenos says. He reaches down at his feet and snatches a copper mule mug and mostly-empty bottle of wine. Usually this would be a nicer golden cup and church wine, but with the short notice and the fact that he, personally, had dirtied practically every wine glass in Oresrush, they had to make due. As he pours the last drops, Temenos continues: “The good word tells us that marriage is a sacred binding of two souls. When Aelfric granted flame to the world, he placed an ember of the Sacred Flame into every soul. Lovers would kindle that spark into a unionous fire, keeping the couple warm all the rest of their days.”
Agnea likes that story. She can almost feel that flame already, steadily crackling in her stomach. Agnea closes her eyes. All at once, she is home, sitting by the fireplace with the one she loves, reveling in their peaceful, simple life. Warmth blankets around her as Hikari draws her even closer. She is safe, and happy, and more content than she’s ever been in his arms.
“This wine symbolizes a vow,” Temenos eventually says, clearly forgetting what, exactly, is the purpose of the cup in this ceremony. Agnea forgives him though. This is still a very beautiful ceremony, and not one she will ever forget. He hands the cup to them, and Agnea and Hikari must detangle themselves somewhat to take hold of it.
Agnea looks up at Hikari, lacing their fingers together. He’s so beautiful in the morning light. Sunlight bounces off his hair, revealing a tinge of midnight blue. Specks of warm brown and gold shimmer in his eyes. Nothing compares to the soft smile tugging at his lips. Agnea wishes she could capture this moment forever. She loves him so much.
“I love you,” Hikari murmurs, quiet enough that he does interrupt Temenos’s speech. But Agnea isn’t paying much attention to the ceremony anymore. She can’t, not when Hikari is so near. I love you, I love you, I love you , she thinks back, not trusting her words to do the job correctly. She wishes Temenos would get a move on so they can get to the part where they kiss.
Temenos chuckles. Agnea flushes as she realizes she said that part aloud. “I believe we’re losing them, so allow me to cut to the chase: Hikari, do you take Agnea to be your wife?”
“Of course,” Hikari says.
“Agnea–”
“ Yes ,” she breathes.
Temenos clasps his hands. “Very well. Let me take the wine back before there’s a wardrobe mishap–there we go. By the power vested in me by the gods, you are married. You may finally kiss.”
Thank Sealticge , Agnea hazily thinks, surging up to finally capture his lips.
Hikari wakes with the taste of spiced wine and peaches in his mouth, and with the feather-light weight of Agnea’s torso draped haphazardly across his chest. He has no recollection of how or when they arrived at this point. Hikari isn’t about to worry about it though. He wraps his arms around Agnea, savoring the chance to feel her snores rumbling through him.
“Nice” seems too simple a word to encapsulate this moment, but Hikari’s cloudy mind can conjure no other description. Laying like this with the woman he loves, unhurried and unburdened, is nice. Sunlight streams through the window, strong and sure, warming the room and his heart. The Long Night is truly gone. Hikari and his friends and all the rest of the world are safe. He is peaceful and comfortable and–
Well. Perhaps he is not too comfortable. Crinkling his nose, Hikari (regrettably) peels an arm away from Agnea’s waist to pat at his head instead, because something hard is poking into his scalp. What is that, a stick? When did he–
No. It’s a rope of braided flower stems. And it’s wrapped in a thin golden chain, horrifically tangled into his hair. This is too difficult a tangle to free single-handed, but the last thing he’s going to do is disturb Agnea. Hikari’s memories of last night are hazy at best and nonexistent at worst, but he recalls gathering with the rest of the drunken crowd to watch Agnea dance. She must be exhausted.
Besides Agnea’s performance, Hikari remembers a lot of alcohol. People kept handing him cup after cup, and he couldn’t turn them down fast enough. Eventually, Hikari simply gave up and joined the rest of the celebration by positively drinking himself silly. He thinks he went outside at some point–maybe one of his friends grew ill from drinking? No, all of his friends were there. Why did they all go outside? Osvald and Throné would have fared poorly in the rowdy crowd, what with all the noise and tight-quarters. Perhaps they stepped away to give them time to breathe while keeping them company.
But how, then, did this mess of… flowers and jewelry end up on his head?
Hikari is still too tired to worry about it for now. Doubtlessly, he will hear of whatever foolishness he got up to over breakfast. Or during lunchtime, judging by the light outside.
He wearily rubs his hand down his face–
And catches sight of something else very strange.
A ring on his finger, on his left hand. On the eponymous ring finger.
Hikari stares at his hand for a moment.
Then, as something cold and filled with dread clicks in the back of his mind, Hikari shakes Agnea awake.