Papalymo didn't know how he got all wrapped up in this but, in the end, they both know it is something that has to be done, but that doesn't mean either are happy about it. The good news is that they were allowed to do a traditional Eorzean wedding. The bad news, however, is that Yda would have to wear traditional Garlean wedding attire — including the most gaudy headpiece she has ever seen to frame her Third Eye. The idea of the dress, though, is much, much worse.

It is awkward and forced, but Yda pens the letter to the Garlean Sect that includes her family, agreeing to the terms. Then all that is left is actually planning the wedding.

"So...how do we go about this?" Papalymo asks finally. They had been ignoring the whole situation for days. Not even bring it up to the other Scions. He is holding the reply Yda had gotten from her family. She just briefly glanced over it before shoving it towards him earlier. Yda wants to go back to the training she had been doing but instead lets her shoulders slump, leaving her back turned to him.

"I guess we go to the Sanctum of the Twelve to get it all planned out," a pause as she swings a punch at the sandbag, "Are you really sure about this?" she finally glances back at him.

"We do what we must. Even if the circumstances are...rather strange."

"For Eorzea..." Yda whispers.

It's raining when they arrive in the Shroud and, while not uncommon, it does little to lighten the mood. The two trudge through the mud and rain until they arrive at the Sanctum. Claribel is a bit surprised to see the two Archons but ushers them inside to dry.

"Oh my, is there a problem, Scions? Usually we don't see you two this far in the Shroud."

Papalymo shakes his head, "Gods no. We..." he clears his throat, "Yda and I are looking to arrange a...ceremony," he lowers his voice like it's some forbidden spell.

Claribel looks at them in shock for a few moments and then she laughs, albeit awkwardly, "Twelve! Two Archons getting married! What an exciting day it will be!" She has to catch her breath, "Have you obtained the rings?"

"R-rings?" Yda sputters dumbly. She knew that usually there are rings but she had hoped it could be skipped. Papalymo shoots her a glare.

"Yes, rings! You have to have something to symbolize you're eternal bond! You'll have to pick out a nice one so that the Twelve can bless them!" Claribel chuckles again, "You two are really new to this, aren't you?"

Yda and Papalymo exchange looks but neither rush to answer. Claribel clasps her hands together.

"Don't be nervous! Here, you two go get your rings and then take them to the Goldsmiths Guild in Ul'dah. When you get back, we'll have your wedding attire ready to be fitted!"

Yda turns, quickly, to leave but Papalymo catches her arm.

"Oh! Before I forget, is there any specific style of dress you would like, ma'am?"

Yda grits her teeth before digging into her pocket and pulling out a crumpled drawing. It is an extravagant dress and she hopes Claribel doesn't know enough about Garleans to recognize the style.

"Something like this, maybe?" A blush tints her cheeks and she looks away as she hands over the paper. Papalymo tries to get a look at the picture but Claribel holds it up to her face too fast.

"Oh my! What a beautiful dress! We'll get right on this," she smiles sweetly.

The drawing is missing the headpiece but that will harder to obtain. She will worry about that later. Yda and Papalymo leave the Sanctum, making their way back through the rain.

"Ring, huh?" Yda says finally.

"Aye...Rings."

"Were are we going to get them? We don't exactly have very much gil."

"I have an idea..."

To say Prisusu isn't enthusiastic about making a pair of wedding rings for her two teachers would be a lie. At first Prisusu is shocked and can barely speak. Yda has to interrupt Papalymo's blunt request for a pair of flawless bands to explain that the whole thing was an arranged marriage.

Prisusu is still just as happy. She could think no better two to help bring peace. She sets to work quickly and although she usually used her crafting abilities to keep the Aether Meters in check, they couldn't deny she had skill.

Having Prisusu make the rings helps ease the feelings of doubt they have. Prisusu always did that for them. She makes them feel at peace; humming as she works on the bands. The three of them talk and it makes them all miss how simple it all used to be. Yda and Papalymo would be lost without Prisusu.

When the rings are done, they are elegant but simple. She presses one into each of their hands. They both hold onto her hand for longer than necessary. She smiles before rushes off to find something to wear to the ceremony.

Yda and Papalymo meet each others eyes and Yda tries to ignore the tightness in her chest. She looks down at her ring before putting it into her pocket. The two set off to Ul'dah. The Goldsmith is expecting them because word of two Archons getting married travels faster than they would like to admit. He takes their rings and engraves them carefully with the Twelve's runes. The rings are still warm when they get them back.

At the end of the day, they are, at least, happy it's not raining when they return to the Shroud.

The next day, the make the walk back out the Sanctum of the Twelve, rings in hand. Claribel is happy to see them but before taking their rings she ushers them into separate dressing rooms to have their garments fitted. It's chaos and Yda can barely tell what is going on. The fabric is too soft and the boning on the corset is too tight. She can't breath, can't walk with the fabric pooled around her feet and she sure as hell can't fight. She hates it.

"I am not going out there in this!"

"You have to show you're husband-to-be your dress!" One of the weavers say.

"Absolutely not! I look ridiculous!"

Papalymo tugs at the stiff collar of his suit. He has been done with his fitting for a while now and is simply waiting for Yda to be done. Skarn and Prisusu are sitting on a bench, giggling with each other. There is another loud commotion from inside Yda's dressing room.

"Fine! At least let me wear this!" Another loud bang, some cursing coming from Yda and a sigh from the weavers. Papalymo turns to talk with Prisusu.

The door creaks open and he doesn't turn around at first but both Skarn and Prisusu's faces light up.

"Don't look at me like that..." Yda growls.

Papalymo turns around to look at her. His breath gets caught in his throat and he feels his cheeks light up. Yda is, without a doubt, beautiful. Even with her damned mask and turban still on. He can't speak and he can't deny she cleans up well. Yda takes him in as well. His suit fits well and he looks good in white. She had never really seen him in anything but robes — no matter how fancy the robes were.

Skarn stands and walks up to Yda.

"Don't suppose you'll let me walk ya down the aisle?" She grins widely, breaking the trance Yda and Papalymo where in.

Yda laughs, "I'd love that!"