"And it came to pass … that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul… Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul. - 1 Samuel 18:1-3
It felt like it had been two days, not two weeks since they'd last been in Idris. Still, as he looked around at the grandiose architecture of the Council Hall, he couldn't help but be grateful that their reason for being here was a happy one. Members of the Council milled about the space as they waited for the ceremony to start, and he could see Trip across the room trying to distract Ward from glaring at his brother. He'd remained glued to Skye's side until the last possible second before she and Jemma had run off to change into their ceremonial gear.
"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" He heard Trip ask as he approached them.
"The last time you and I stood in this room together we were surrounded by fire and being glared at by my father. I doubt many mundanes would include something like that in their list of favorite days."
Trip's smile widened. "I guess it's a good thing we aren't mundanes then. They've got no sense of adventure anyway."
Trip's mom had offered to look after the Institute for the day so everyone could attend the ceremony. Fitz had it on good authority that they should expect to come home to a very large supper. Good thing too, formal events always made him hungry.
It was easy to pick out the rest of the D.C group since they all wore vibrant shades of red instead of the black robes of the Council members. The Consul was standing near the center of the crowd talking with Coulson while Hunter introduced Bobbi to his father on the outskirts of the room. Fitz still couldn't figure out exactly what the two of them were to each other, and they hadn't exactly put any sort of label on the relationship, but they seemed happy with it and that made him happy.
May was standing with a larger group, listening intently as they spoke, but not offering any insight into the conversation. He found himself thinking that if he ever needed someone to keep a secret, May would be the person for the job.
Trip and Ward had moved on to talking about the first time they met when the Consul started ushering people towards their seats. When the floor had been cleared, a door on the far side of the room opened and Jemma and Skye emerged in crimson gear.
To begin the ceremony, they lit two circles of fire on opposite sides of the space, symbolizing their lives as individuals. A third ring blazed between the two, representing their life as a pair of warriors bonded by an old and hallowed vow. The flames licked at their ankles as they came to meet each other, but neither seemed to feel them.
Skye's new family ring glinted on her finger as she offered her arm to Jemma, whose stele began searing a new pattern onto the skin as she recited the words of the covenant.
His mind flashed back to a dark basement and the tears she had shed as she said some of those same words to him. Then he thought about the Song of Solomon again and had to redirect his attentions. There would be a time and a place for those vows to, but this wasn't it. Instead he glanced over to where Coulson stood smiling proudly at the two girls. Bobbi may or may not have shed a few tears as Jemma finished speaking, but Fitz figured she had earned a few weepy moments after having spent so long with only Trip and Ward for company.
After the last words had left her mouth, Jemma put away her stele and smiled as she offered Skye her arm. Fitz thought back to the picture on his desk and smiled too, wondering if the particular smile on his girlfriend's face was a special one she saved for new beginnings.
As the flames in the room grew brighter, Skye raised her stele and let the words of the covenant ring through the cavernous hall.
Entreat me not to leave thee,
Or return from following after thee—
For whither thou goest, I will go,
And where thou lodgest, I will lodge.
Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.
Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried.
The Angel do so to me, and more also,
If aught but death part thee and me.