A/N: Rough ages are as follows: David at 73, Johan at 72, Daniel and Antoine 55, Clara and Alida at 53, Martha at 50, Olly at 28, Lena at 22, Astra and Tara at 20, Sterling at 16, Oriana and Maglina at 14, and Seren at 8 ¾

Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Union

Before long it was time for the wedding that would bind Olivier and Astra in body, soul, and law. The bride wore a dress of silver, honoring a traditional Rhyllish color, whilst her groom wore a suit and cape of brilliant Gallifreyan blue. There were plenty in attendance, from the lesser lords and ladies of the area, to common businessmen and guild heads. It was Astra's status as the Earlessa of Gallifrey's heir that ensured the ceremony and guests were as grand as they were, for not a one wanted to miss the marriage of their potential liege lady, and therefore the large governance hall was filled with wellwishers as the young couple exchanged vows and kissed one another for the first time as husband and wife.

It was soon after that the party really began, for another hall had been prepared for dinner during the ceremony, allowing family and guests alike to seamlessly go from the ceremony to the feast. Astra and Olivier wandered the crowd, thanking those in attendance personally. They had only just finished when it was announced that the meal was soon to begin, prompting them to rush towards the table atop a dais where both of their families sat. Olivier took the seat next to his mother and Astra her father, though the latter noticed that her parent did not seem to be completely aware of his surroundings.

"Papa? Hey, are you alright?" she whispered. She touched his forearm gently, causing him to snap back to reality.

"Yes, starlet. This is just…"

"You don't need to say it." Astra leaned in and kissed her father on the cheek. "Thank you, for being so kind about this."

"It's not a matter of being kind, but one of being prepared… and I'm not sure if I will ever truly be prepared to watch one of my starlets vow themselves to another, no matter how much I approve of the match," he explained. He glanced over her shoulder at his new son-in-law as he covertly stared at the silverware in an attempt to remember which ones to pick up first and not embarrass anyone. "He is a good lad who loves you, and he tries for your sake. That is all I can ever want for you or any of your siblings."

"Well said," the Marchioness agreed from her husband's other side. She held his hand as he turned his head to look at her, an expression on his face that only she could read. It was one of immense pride and happiness, yet one of sadness, fear, and anxiety as well. She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles tenderly. "You've always had a way with words, Johan. Be careful, or else you might worry away your appetite."

"…and how do you think it'll look if the cook finds out that you didn't eat and she comes all the way up to scold you?" Astra added with a giggle. The Marquis deigned to not respond, for he did not need reminding that their cook—a stout, headstrong woman hired back when her predecessor quit a week before his coming-of-age ceremony—felt no qualms about approaching her employer when he did not eat in order to question his health and should she make him something else. It was not a problem normally since he knew her intentions were purely good-hearted, yet he also knew that there were some in the hall dining with them that would balk at the idea of a servant acting in such a manner, calling it impudence instead of worry.

"Besides, you don't have it nearly as bad as Papa," the Marchioness mentioned. She nodded towards her father sitting on the end of the table. "This is his granddaughter's wedding feast; there's only a year between you two, but he's not in as good shape because he's average… it was a blessing he could make it at all."

"That is true," he admitted. His father-in-law had needed to arrive a week in advance in order to rest from the traveling, something which he would have never done ten years prior. He did not yet look feeble, though the knowledge that the man would possibly not be around for all his grandchildren's marriages was on the forefront of more minds than just the Marquis and Marchioness's. It was clear to the Gallifreyan lord that Lena, who sat by her grandfather's side, was asking him stories about her grandmother, about her mother's childhood, about Blackpoole in bygone days, simply by the expression on his face alone. Passing on knowledge was important, and he was glad that it was still a possibility.

The food came and dinner began. It was delicious, as was expected from their kitchen, and before long it was time to return to the governance hall. A few tables and chairs had been set up around the edges, with the center clear for dancing and an orchestra sitting expectantly along the side. The guests formed a makeshift circle around the open floor, enclosing Olivier and Astra as they prepared to begin dancing. Music swelled up and the couple twirled around the floor in sync; everyone watched in delight at the new husband and wife's blushing ecstasy, enjoying themselves.

"It makes me so happy seeing our Astra's face," the Marchioness whispered in her husband's ear.

"The sight reminds me of our first dance, and how neither of us smiled genuinely before, during, or after," the Marquis murmured back. "You did not deserve that, not in the slightest."

"I still found happiness though," she reminded him. "Sometimes the best things happen to people completely on accident and they wouldn't change that for anything."

"We squandered those first years…"

"…not if they led to this moment, or any of the other moments we've had and will have. A lifetime with you is not a squandered one by any means."

She held out her hand and he took it, the pair edging their way onto the dance floor. They were soon joined by the Baron and Baroness Coal-on-the-Hill, and Serdar Peladon and his sister, and before they knew it the hall was filled with dancers. Eventually the Marquis and Marchioness found themselves next to Olivier and Astra and they switched partners. Waltzing away with his daughter, the Marquis found it difficult to remain dry-eyed.

Yet it was alright, he told himself as he guided Astra along the dance floor. He did not mourn Tara's first deployment and he would not mourn this marriage. The young woman in his arms was intelligent and wise beyond her years and was ready to leave the nest; it was merely something he had to accept.

The celebration continued into the night with little signs of letting up. Seren was able to get in a song on his cello while Maglina sang before they, Sterling, and Oriana were told to head upstairs to the family's wing for the evening, while the newlyweds were able to sneak off towards the wedding suite before anyone else could notice. Guests socialized, danced, and frittered the night away without a care in the world—such a change from the quiet, bleak nights of the early days of the bride's father's tenure, that much was for certain.

Stepping out onto the balcony, Lena finally found herself able to breathe after escaping the overheated governance hall. With the party behind her, she glanced out over the gardens, observing couples who had decided to take a stroll in the early autumn night. The sky was red, the breeze was light, and it was the perfect setting for a romantic rendezvous… at least, so she thought. It was not as though she had a decent comparison from her own personal experience, but she could imagine well enough from stories both read and told.

"It's odd, isn't it?" Lena did not need to look to know it was Tara, coming out to join her. The younger sister leaned on the railing and gazed up at the stars. They could not have looked more different with Tara in her formal military suit and Lena in an elegant gown, though if one paid enough attention it was clear that they were sisters despite the fact one wore medals on her chest and the other on a sash.

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"Well," Tara shrugged, "Astra's married now. She's your younger sister and my twin—it's a bit of an odd feeling when I think about it."

"I suppose so, but we have time," Lena reminded her. "Lady Martha says that it's very possible for us to bear children much later than Mama did because of how long we'll live. There's no rush for us to marry."

"Chances are I never will; don't want to get tied down unnecessarily, especially since continuing a line is not in my job description. Astra will have her kids, I'll spoil them rotten like any proper aunt should, and then hand them back before returning to wherever I need to report."

"Aren't you selfish? All the fun and none of the work?"

"Expect anything less?"

"You always exceed expectations."

The sisters stood quietly and watched the people wandering around in the gardens below. They relished in the shared silence for as long as they could, simply glad to be there. It was only after a few moments, however, did Tara begin to chuckle.

"What…?" Lena wondered.

"Good thing it doesn't take much to get her going, because Olly's an amateur," Tara smirked. She glanced over at the confused Lena and tapped at her temple. "Remember when I first laid with Petra back in my Academy days, and Astra knew about it despite the fact we were nowhere near the castle?"

"Oh gods," Lena cringed in realization. "That's sick."

"That's being hypertelepathic, constantly-linked identical twins, one of whom is figuring some things out for the first time—I'll let her know in the morning."

"You could let her know now."

"…and then they'd be too nervous to actually enjoy tonight like they should. It's nothing I haven't experienced before. Actually, I've gotten up to worse…"

"…but what if her mind connects with anyone else's?!"

"It won't, trust me," Tara assured. "Astra and I can keep in contact from here to the Cyberan front in an emergency, but even in this state she's too well-controlled in her abilities to let her wedding night get the best of her."

"You are the one doing damage control if you're wrong," Lena warned.

"Yeah, yeah; don't worry." Tara turned her attention towards the gardens, where a couple was starting to become rather invested in their kissing session. "They remind me: how much you want to bet that Sterling will start courting Ori compared to her courting him?"

"Ha; I'm expecting nothing but a spare sibling to marry off in a treaty. He'll never work up the courage, not without some goading, because if he gathers himself on his own it'll be too late. Something I know for certain is that I'm getting married before he is."

"Can't argue there."

"Then what about Maggie or Seren?"

"Seren's too young to tell since he's still just a nip, but Maggie… she'll have men fighting over her."

"You think so?" Lena wondered, cocking an eyebrow.

"I'd be surprised if there wasn't at least one duel for the honor of courting her, and then she wouldn't even allow the victor his spoils," Tara snorted. "She just gets prettier every time I return home now that she's hit puberty. Lucky for us she's got a deceptively good head on her shoulders."

"Yes, and I would like to keep it that way. You've reminded me that I want her to start looking into political theory and court proceedings. Those green eyes of Grandfather Troy's, combined with Mama's mind and Papa's eyelashes, are going to be a force to be reckoned with one day."

"Heh, yeah…" The soldier then grew quiet, reminiscing. "I remember when we got the letter saying she was born. Papa wasn't… well, he wasn't in a good state for a while."

"I don't blame him considering I wasn't either. You know, I can still remember holding Maggie as Mama wrote that letter…" Lena stopped when she noticed her sister was beginning to giggle. "What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it," Tara laughed. "It's just… Olly…"

"Disgusting," Lena scoffed. She cringed as she walked away, leaving Tara to her unique and accidental voyeurism.

As it turned out, Tara was not wrong and the remainder of the night went without incident. Their father checked the wedding bed, as he was the highest-ranked guest at the ceremony and reception both, and he returned to his wife's side with the sense of melancholy only the father of a new bride could exude. Olivier and Astra showed up for breakfast a short while later, faces flushed in embarrassment; their marriage was now complete in the eyes of traditions old and new alike.

Greeting guests who had stayed at the castle, the entire remainder of the day was a flurry of thank-yous and glad-you-could-make-its, with barely any time for the newlyweds to spend by themselves. That night they began packing and two days later it was time for them to head towards Rhylls with Alida and Antoine. Seren begged them not to go; the only way to placate him was an offer for a sleepover at Sladen House upon their return the following summer. He sniffled dramatically, hoping they would change their mind, yet watched with the rest of his family as the new branch of the family rode off towards the south.

Without looking, the Marchioness reached for her husband's hand, only able to grab the finger with his wedding band. The Marquis closed his hand around hers in turn, both continuing to concentrate on waving the travel party goodbye.