I'm sure I've said this at least fifty times before, but whatever: I do not own Elsword or any of its corresponding characters in any way, shape, or form.
Note: This was actually never supposed to be mentioned, but due to someone asking (very nicely) for there basically to be a sequel to the sequel, I'll be making a story out of Aisha and El's marrried life. LET THE CHAOS COMMENSE!
Note Part 2: Thank you Tsurara-Oikawa Chan, Orithia WindBell, and Rinkushido for keeping up my moral and giving me some ideas. Both of which I'm usually lacking miserably.
. . .
"Do I look okay in this suit?! Too fat?! Skinny?! Should I switch the red rose with a white one?! It look like a bit too much red with the tie, doesn't it?! SOMEONE CALL THE FLORIST! Gah, and my HAIR! Had to be a cheapskate and cop out on a haircut, didn't I?! Probably look like I'm trying to impersonate my sister!"
Elsword runs around like a phoru on caffeine. He's been worrying about every single detail of his appearance since 5 o'clock in the morning. Frankly?
Raven.
Is.
Sick of it.
POW!
The Veteran Commander slams a random frying pan into El's head. His desired effect is achieved as Elsword slumps to the floor, stars circling his head. Chung, about to do the same thing with the butt end of his canon, gives Raven a thumbs up and a frustrated sigh. This is gonna be a long wedding.
. . .
Rena and Eve are having even less fun while dealing with Aisha. (In all honesty, they'd try to knock her out long ago, but the girl was simply too fast, even while she ain't trying.)
"I should have gone with sleeves, shouldn't I? You can see so much of me in this . . . and I don't have anything to show!"
"You look fine, sweetie. Your shoulders are your best part, and the dress does not have a plunging neckline. You look perfectly respectable."
"Ya mean I look like a college prof in a sparkly nightgown! How the heck should I know if it has a low neckline or not, anyways? It's impossible to tell! One look at me in this getup and Elsword'll practically teleport to get away from me!
"Please, be serious, Aisha. For one thing El wouldn't dare-"
"Ah, ha! There's another reason for him to leave me in the dirt! Who in his right mind would marry some psycho babe like me?! Elsword may be stupid sometimes, but he ain't crazy!"
"Aish-"
"WHAT?!"
"You're getting kinda loud . . ."
The Elemental Master lets out tired grunt, flops on a nearby chair, and looks like she's going to burst into tears.
. . .
Some hours of animal-like screeching and otherwise wild panic later, Elsword is wide awake and sweating at the alter. He's second-guessed himself to the moon and back again today, and is currently going for another round-trip.
Why the heck would Aisha want to marry me? I'm no living brain like she is. My specialty is a slice 'n dice with a side order of magic. I'm just some kind of freaky combo of swordsman and a mage! I can smell it. When she comes walking down that isle, she'll give me a second look, come back to her senses, run.
Our favorite Rune Slayer isn't the only one in pre-marital panic mode.
I'm not gorgeous like Rena and Eve. I never got out of the kid stage, mentally or physically. I'm impetuous, selfish, and a total redneck. Elsword's actually grown over the years. Not only gotten cuter, even to downright handsome, but he's a lot harder to rile up as well. And his powers . . . wow . . . being an A-class Rune Slayer is pretty darn impressive. But an Elemental Mage? They're a dime a dozen.
The two lock eyes while Chung tries to remember he piano lessons from way back when. 'Here Comes the Bride' is sounding a bit mangled, but the couple obviously doesn't care. Aisha looks like an angel to Elsword, and Elsword looks like a prince to Aisha. These observations only serve to deepen their depression.
. . .
When the pastor come to the "do you take this girl to be your lawful wedded wife" part, Elsword feels like he's going to faint. Raven's word of warning come flooding back to him: You could have a mate (did he have to put it that way?!) for life, or, if it ends badly, and Elemental Master out for your head.
El zones out for a couple seconds, his eyes going glassy. No one makes a move as the crowd draws in a collective breath.
"I-I . . . I . . ." suck it up and say it, you blasted coward.
"I . . . I do."
Still no one bats an eyelash. If anything, the crowd lets out an internal groan. The bride still has to answer, now doesn't she?
Aisha looks sheepish for a second. She looks at her friends and enemies a like. (Banthus and William showed up uninvited saying they'd done more than anyone to help level up El and Aisha.) She now studies Elsword's face. A thin sheen of sweat glistens in the sunlight, his jaw is tight, and his eyes are blood shot.
He, the kid who's faced countless monsters, survived on his own, and even survived ME, is nervous? She stifles a giggle, making her final decision in a split second.
"I do."
And the crowd goes wild.
. . .
No, really, I'm not kidding. They scream, throw mounds of confetti in the air, and otherwise make enough of a ruckus to wake the dead! The pastor, on the hand, looks down right insulted.
"Could we all please save the celebrating until after I'm done?" his words drip more poison than an infected rat. The crowd's celebrating comes to a halt, and the confetti proceeds to defy gravity by seeming to pause in the air. Everyone sits back in their respective chair as if nothing had happened, and the wedding continues undeterred.
We can only hope that this land, and its inhabitance, can survive such a marriage. Let alone the kids it's going to produce . . .
