This very short story was inspired by the FAQ on Marianne Curley's website. Someone asked if Isabel would marry Arkarian, and Marianne replied, "I imagine she would marry Arkarian, and the ceremony would be beautiful, with her brother Matt happily officiating." After reading that, I couldn't resist writing a tiny pre-wedding scene.

I am also working on a possibly multi-chapter fanfiction featuring Arkarian and Rochelle, but as I have been suffering from some mild writer's block, I thought I would bust this out to get the creative juices flowing. This is nothing more than a short, light, hopefully sweet scene. I may add to it if there is interest.

As always, thank you for reading.

"Not bad," I hear a voice say from the doorway behind me. "Not my type or anything, but even so."

I tear my attention away from the full length mirror, and whirl around to face the newcomer. "Like I would ever want to be your type, Ethan," I reply with a serious look.

For a few seconds, we stare at each other stoically from opposite sides of the room. I see his lips begin to twitch at the corners, but it is I who breaks first, an uncontrollable grin spreading across my face. Ethan follows suit, and then we are running towards each other, emitting squeals completely unbecoming of two war heroes of the Guard. He wraps his arms around me when we meet in the center of the sunlit room, and spins me around in a flurry of flowing fabric. "Today's the day," he tells me excitedly, as if this fact may have slipped my mind.

"Is it?" I ask, as he puts me down. "Thank goodness I happened to be wearing this old thing." I grab the voluminous skirt of my white dress, and give a twirl. Ethan's smile widens impossibly.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day Isabel 'Tomboy' Beckett would be caught dead in a dress. My money was on armor."

"Don't think I didn't consider it. In the end, my childish fantasies won out." Although, I silently muse, these past years with Arkarian have been better than anything I could have imagined in a fantasy. "And how is my dearest soulmate?" I ask Ethan. I was forced to abide by the torturous tradition of not seeing my archaic fiancé the night before our wedding, despite my protests that, as we already live together, there really was no point.

"He is also in a dress," Ethan says cheekily, and I punch him in the arm. He laughs at this, shaking his head while he rubs the spot where my fist landed. "Some things never change. At least you and Arkarian don't. I'm getting old."

I step back to regard him. He's looking dashing in a black tuxedo, but I do see what he means. Arkarian, of course, is ageless as ever, and I stopped aging ten years ago. Ten years that went by alarmingly quickly. We've all had our work cut out for us maintaining the peace that was finally possible after the fall of the Order. "I would hardly call twenty-seven old, Ethan. Although… is that a wrinkle I spy?" I lean upward, squinting, in mock examination of his face, and lean in for a peck on his cheek at the last moment. "I'm glad you're my best friend, Ethan, no matter how old and decrepit you are."

He smiles warmly. "You really do look beautiful, you know."

Just then, we hear a knock at the door, and it opens just a second later. Neriah enters, looking ravishing in a full golden gown. Ethan and I turn to her in anticipation. "We're ready for you out here, Isabel."

Suddenly, the nerves that I have been battling all day bubble to the surface. I feel the color drain from my face. "I'll… I'll be ready in a minute. Thank you, Neriah." She leaves, and I grip Ethan's arms to steady myself. I peer up into his face, my eyes wide. "This is it."

"You're going to be amazing, Isabel. I'm so happy for you. For both of you. No one deserves happiness like you two. I…" He trails off, and I can see tears threatening to stream down his face. "I'm just so glad you two are able to be together."

I know he's thinking of one person who did not survive the final battle, who did not get to be with the man she loved. I reach up to wipe away an errant tear from his face.

"Don't mind me," he says. "This is your day." He reaches behind my head, and takes hold of my veil, draping it over my face. "Are you ready?"

I nod hastily, and grip his hand tightly as we walk towards the door, and towards my future with the man I was born to love.