A/N: I'm back on my bullshit with more Max/Mariam in this chapter. Surprise surprise.

Day 4 | Max/Mariam, Saint Shields, Mariam's parents (as envisioned by myself and RedWheeler) | Rated: K+

Jewelry

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" Mariam teased, tenderly tucking Max's hair behind his ear. She took her time, making sure there were no strands left in the way. Her body brushed his shoulder with every breath, she was standing so close.

Max subconsciously leaned into her touch so she was practically cradling his face.

"I always want you to hold my hand," he replied with a smile. Tilting his chin up, he made eye contact from the chair he was seated in. Mariam raised one eyebrow at him that he knew had everything to do with his cheesy statement. "Your dad doesn't even have to be coming my way with a needle."

Mariam rolled her eyes fondly.

To prove his point, Max laced their fingers together and kissed her knuckles.

There was soft laughter and a few coos from members of Mariam's family who were scattered throughout the room. Max noticed the apples of Mariam's cheeks flush the littlest bit. They weren't usually this open with affection around her extended family, but today was different.

Max squeezed her hand to ward off the butterflies in his stomach.

"Oh come on!" Dunga's exasperated voice effectively cut through the clamor of the rest of the room. Anyone who might not have been paying attention definitely was now. He crossed his burly arms over his chest and said, "Cut the lovey-dovey crap – I want an appetite for dessert."

Mariam shot him a glare. She was saved from making any biting replies by her mother; Ilea appeared at her side, conveniently blocking Dunga from view.

"You might want to stand on Max's right, Mariam – your father is going to need his left," Ilea advised, shooing Mariam in that direction.

Max felt his fiancée's hand glide over the back of his neck and shoulders as she relocated. Dunga groused again, which was probably Mariam's aim, but Ilea spoke over him as if she hadn't noticed.

"I'm just going to sanitize the area, Max," she said kindly as she tore open an alcohol swab. Max held his breath as she swiped it over both sides of his earlobe. "Don't worry – I made sure Tobias sanitized the needle ahead of time." Her eyes sparkled with amusement and she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Ha! Should let him get tetanus like a real man," Dunga joked as Ilea stepped away to discard her trash.

"Give it a rest, Dunga," Ozuma said with a roll of his eyes, "I'm sure Max has all his shots." He was smirking, but took a sip from his cup to hide the fact.

"I sure hope so." Joseph took his mother's place on Max's left. He was carrying an over-sized towel that he made a show of wrapping around Max's shoulders. "Don't want Mariam catching anything weird from him." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his sister, making Max flush and Mariam reach out and smack him upside the head.

"It's way too late for her!" Dunga laughed at his own jab and even Ozuma almost choked on his drink.

"There's nothing wrong with me, Dunga," Mariam sneered. "I didn't fall into any radioactive sludge or whatever made your face grow like that. And Joseph," she addressed her brother now, clearly fed up, "what is the towel supposed to be for?"

"All the blood," Joseph said so solemnly that Max almost believed him. That was, until Mariam yanked the towel off, balled it up, and chucked it straight at her cackling brother.

"There'll barely be any! Stop trying to freak him out!"

Max felt a smile worming its way onto his face. With the Saint Shield's bickering around him and Mariam's more distant relatives chuckling and conversing in the background, he was already starting to feel like a part of the tribe. He couldn't wait for his own friends to join them the next day and add to the chaos.

Suddenly the noise started to taper off, bit by bit. That could only mean one thing. He didn't have to crane his neck to see Mariam's dad making his way into the center of the room – anyone in his path automatically stepped aside to clear the way.

Tobias came to a stop directly in front of Max and everyone else fell silent.

Mariam stood behind him. He could feel her knuckles brushing gently up and down, between his shoulder blades. Max fought not to lean into the touch. Suddenly he was more nervous than he'd been all day – he didn't even get this nervous thinking about the wedding. Something in the frenetic movement of Mariam's hand told him that she was too.

"Mariam?" Tobias's voice was surprisingly gentle when he addressed his daughter.

As if they'd rehearsed it, Mariam lifted her hand from Max's back and held it out. Her father set a small box, bound in rich, brown leather with golden hinges, into her palm. Max tried to ignore the way the rest of the room was forming a tight circle around the three of them, everyone eager to witness the moment.

Ilea had said that the last outsider to join their tribe had done so when she was a little girl. It wasn't a common occurrence. People married outside the tribe on occasion, moved away, had a child or two, came back, but very seldom did their spouse seek out the honor of wearing their jewelry.

Max knew he wanted their earring as soon as he found out it was an option. He didn't want marriage to him to mean a sacrifice of Mariam's culture or the loss of her family. He wanted to belong to her as much as she belonged to him. He'd never forget the way Mariam blinked back emotion when he told her as much, or the way she kissed him after.

The knowledge that her father would be the one to pierce his ear, and officially welcome him to the Saint Shields with the earring, came later and only dampened his spirits a little bit.

"Is everyone ready to start chanting?" Joseph whispered into the pregnant silence.

Max's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Joseph…" Mariam warned.

She and Tobias fixed Joseph with twin glares and a laugh rippled through the audience. Ilea looped one arm through her son's as a means to keep him in line. The other members of Mariam's team were standing close by as well, Dunga laughing along with the crowd and Ozuma biting the inside of his cheek.

Max smiled at the sight of all of them together, his family for real soon.

"There's no chanting," Tobias said firmly, slowly sliding his attention back to the matter at hand.

Max had been warned that these things could go on for a while, with the relative in charge of the piercing grilling the would-be tribesman on their intentions for the better part of an hour before going ahead with it. Fortunately, Mariam's dad wasn't one to mince words.

"I have one question for each of you. If I'm satisfied with your answers, we welcome Max to the Saint Shields."

He glanced back and forth between Max and Mariam. The seriousness in his expression made Max wish they were still holding hands. The wish sort of came true when Tobias asked him to place his hand on top of the box Mariam was holding. She lowered her arm so he could do so with ease. Their fingertips brushed and they both looked to her father to start.

Tobias nodded to them and began.

"Max." The seriousness in his voice made Max sit up straighter. "I need assurance from you that you will conduct yourself, to the best of your ability, in a manner that reflects favorably on the Clan of the Saint Shields. You will uphold our values and cherish our traditions, holding them as close to your heart as you hold my daughter."

Tobias paused. Max heard Mariam inhale behind him, felt her fingers twitch. She and her father didn't always see eye to eye, but when they locked gazes over his head, there was a poignant moment of understanding between the two of them.

Shortly after, Tobias's eyes fell to Max's again. There was a trust in them that he hadn't noticed before.

"Will you promise me this?"

"I will," Max answered sincerely. "I promise." He maintained a steady eye contact until Tobias looked away.

"Mariam," he addressed his daughter, "can you attest that your husband-to-be is a man of his word? That he will protect you and the interests of The Saint Shields as he promised?"

"I can," Mariam answered. When she looked to Max, he looked back reflexively. "He will."

The invisible tension in the room dissipated. When Max finally tore his eyes away from Mariam, Tobias was smiling. Max could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen a genuine smile on his face, and it made him happy to finally have his approval.

"Then you may open the box together." He gestured to the leather box between their hands.

Mariam held the bottom steady while Max pried the top open. Inside was a long golden needle and a Saint Shield earring, laying in a bed of red silk. They kept it steady while Tobias took up the needle.

Mariam's left hand found Max's shoulder. He could tell she was holding her breath, just like he was, as her dad tilted Max's head to the side and centered the needle.

"Breathe," Tobias reminded the both of them. Then, with sure hands, he pierced Max's earlobe, clean and quick on an inhale.

It didn't hurt as bad as Max expected, and he barely noticed the earring going in with Mariam's family celebrating in the background and her own arms snaking around his neck from behind. What he did notice, above it all, was the "I love you" whispered into his ear and her kiss on his cheek.

"Welcome to the Saint Shields, Max."

A/N: This prompt was the perfect excuse to write about my Saint Shield earring headcanons. Full disclosure: I hadn't ever considered what exactly the piercing "ceremony" would look like, so this was all formulated as I went along, then refined in editing. I feel like it's one of those traditions that evolved over the years to be more chill than it began, but who knows what it will look like if I ever revisit the idea in the future.

Thanks so much for reading! See you all tomorrow. :)