"Letting the first light over Roma bless you?"
"Blessed rays for a blessed day, oh blessed Founder. Did you sleep well?"
"That should be my question, my child. A grand day awaits where exhaustion shall be welcomed only at its end."
Caesar smiled, anxious but calm. "Then it's a good thing I'm a servant."
Romulus' laughter boomed in the quiet Roman Atrium, basked in the glowing amber of the illusionary landscapes. The sound of chirping birds had wavered, as if to listen in on the lounging pair of toga-wearing leaders. Though the sun had yet to crest the landscape, the glistening clouds reflected on the lake before them. Its air remained mesmerizing. Calm.
"If you're this nervous, I wonder how Cleopatra feels," Romulus commented softly, earning the saber's gaze. "It's alright. For such an occasion, I would be unsettled if you weren't. It shows how much you care."
"I do. But I feel it's silly of me. So very silly," Caesar returned as he plucked a grape from his adjacent tray. "Our trip along the Nile was more elaborate. Such a stately event held far more eyes of the world."
"Oh? But does Chaldea not house the eyes of more important figures?" his divine ancestor joked. Even if not all were to attend the ceremony, he had a point. "If nervousness over the ceremony is all that troubles, my child, Roma is pleased. No trouble will come, no matter how much you may fret."
Indeed, Caesar agreed wholeheartedly. After her arrival, and their reconciliation, the number of his secret doubts and self-criticisms grew out of control. A cunning plotter and master strategist, he knew very well of potential holes and what could lurk in the shadows of hearts. But to think he'd even come to question if she truly saw him in such a grand light, or if old feelings for other lovers, like great Mark Antony, would one day spark strife. It was silly of him to fret where confidence often boomed, but his concerns were fanned by devotion.
One by one, as the doubts came to air in private, Cleopatra proved why she enamored him, again, again, and again. Her diplomatic edge was softened so perfectly when it came time to reassure him. Her patience was without blight, no matter how many times his insecurities blossomed. She was a jewel of the Nile on first sight, and remained so even in Chaldea. Even if he couldn't quite say the same about his own grace, he reaffirmed he'd do everything in his power to be deserving of her commitment.
What better step than today?
Letting out a long breath, Caesar drew Romulus' attention. His growling stomach drew it further, enticing the lancer into booming laughter. "The grapes fail to appease you."
"I mustn't gorge at breakfast," Caesar noted ridiculously. There was no gaining weight by food, but his frustration over his continued size remained a lingering plight. "Nero said dinner would be a feast worthy of greatness."
"The prestigious kitchen is involved in full. Thus, it shall be," the lancer agreed. "But there remains far more to look forward to before then."
Of course, for their long overdue marriage awaited.
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Fragment 112: Dearly Beloved
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While the rest of Chaldea was starting breakfast, the Stitch Witches' backroom was… controlled chaos.
"Please don't worry! All the dresses are already lined up and ready!" "Please, this way. This seat's for you." "Has anyone seen my purse?"
Among the chatter and rattle of countless products, a shriek flew from a panicked sphinx kitten, followed by comforting coos.
"There's that comb." "Forgive me, Pharaoh Nitocris! We're running a bit late but I'm not rushing your makeup!"
It was hard to make out anything through the organized bustle, more so because her mind was partially in a blur. One infused with anxiety and nervousness Cleopatra never knew. Clad in a simple white robe labelled "bride" in gold filigree, she stared at herself in the mirror before her. Her heartbeat was loud and erratic. A thousand thoughts travelled in herds across her concerned mind. As much as she trusted Nero's planning, the noise around her only seemed to add to the sea of excitement and anxiety.
The sun was barely peaking over the horizon on the long, panoramic Sunscape window, yet the bridal orchestra was playing loud. Though only five of the beauty stalls were occupied, it seemed each was taken. The bright lights made it feel like midday when coupled with the rush of the many helpers. No matter how many times Cleopatra had visited their new store, she always marveled how large this little clothing group had grown in number.
Nevertheless, their two exquisite leaders led by high example. Medea's voice snatched her mind from the floating void. "What'd you think about that article?"
'Article…' It clicked, and the soon-to-be-bride smiled. "A lovely idea. To see what has become of the Mediterranean aboard a tallship? An elegant mix of new and old."
"We thought you'd like it," Naomi noted as she manipulated three curling wands at once. She looked a touch unrecognizable in her simple blue blouse and white skirt, but she remained a blur in the assassin's vision. "There are others too, but this one had the most interesting sights. Did Venice exist in your time?"
Cleopatra giggled elegantly at Naomi's unfamiliarity; It was only to be expected by many, these days. Without moving, the pharaoh offered a smile and glance. "Venice was founded a few centuries after our time, dear."
"Oh… Silly me," Naomi chuckled out of embarrassment, earning a quick laugh from her best friend at Cleopatra's other side. The pharaoh glanced to the caster, who manipulated an equal number of curling wands with practiced ease. Sharp, focused eyes remained on the task at hand, but her expression was otherwise reassuring and calm. Tranquil and content.
Medea's voice held no intent other than continuing their chit chat. "I'd like to visit it someday. The gondola appears lovely, but that singing might get to me before long."
"Aw, why? It's traditional," Naomi prodded. "We'd at least ride the gondola, right? When in Rome?"
"I didn't say I wouldn't ride one," the caster spoke lightly. "I still feel it wouldn't be as immersive as they make it out to be."
"What do you mean?" Cleopatra questioned curiously.
Medea's lips quirked to a small frown. "There's a major airport only a few miles from Venice. Then there's all the chatter, other boats. Maybe loud modern music?"
"You're overthinking it, Medea. I'm sure they prize their immersive tourism," Naomi tackled with a smile. "We should add it to our trip list to prove it."
"Or if I arrive first, I'll be sure to tell you," Cleopatra supplied. "For free. Gods know you two have been saints for us fashionistas."
"It's always a win-win," Naomi smiled as she finally finished the first of many wavy strands. Cleopatra eyed the section and felt her lips tug into a brighter smile. Already, she could imagine the rest of her hair in such a glamorous sight, but that'd still be hours from now. As fast as the Stitch Witches worked the fashion show, everyone was adamant nothing would be rushed with the wedding preparations. Cleopatra had that to ease her hectic mind, at least.
…And now that she thought about it, these two were doing it too. The pair were providing her the best, personal treatment while her bridal train received the others; The staff were far from incompetent. Instead, her diplomatic senses finally clicked after being drowned in a sea of emotional worry: They were distracting her nerves with delightful conversation.
A good deflection she was more than happy to accept. Cleopatra smiled, "Have either of you ever thought about wavy hair?"
"I wanted curls when I was nine, but I think I'd just look messy," Naomi sighed sheepishly.
"It's all about how it's done, Naomi. Just like clothes. A change of hair every now and then can catch you a few eyes," Cleopatra surmised as her smile to a sly tinge. "Maybe even one you've been eyeing?"
"Oh, uh. I didn't think about that," the supervisor smiled, though her eyes screamed she was embarrassed; Medea's smirk was both a tinge insecure and playful.
Cleopatra remained calm and decisive. "Just something to think about. Your usual hairstyle suits you, but it's like wearing the same wardrobe every day. Don't I always compliment you when you let your hair down? It's no light suggestion from a pharaoh, I assure you."
"…Okay. Thanks, I'll have to consider it. Maybe for a nice occasion," Naomi admitted, and Cleopatra had to remember not to nod. As much as she had the eye, and as diligent as she was, Naomi was still fairly locked in her regimented shell in some regards. There was no need to tear her out of it, but it was simply another hopeful push to get her to shine a bit more. After all, those who caught Cleopatra's appreciation deserved to shine at their best too.
Speaking of shining… Again, Cleopatra had to force herself not to move as she examined herself in the mirror above a fortress of beauty products. The growing number of beachy waves was fueling her excitement. Across the room at another booth, Carmilla's laugh echoed out. "You look like you're about to jump out of your seat, Cleo."
"I'm not ruining their art," Cleopatra laughed back as she glanced at the nearest curling wand. Medea was whispering the count under her lips as she held it locked in place. "Gods… What will I owe you all for all this?"
"Your best smiles during one of the best days of your life~! Umu~!" Nero called out.
"New life," Semiramis answered from somewhere behind her. Now that Cleopatra thought about it, she felt bad for the several staff who were handling that assassin's tresses. If hers were Angel Falls, the Assyrian Queen's was Niagara. It was no wonder she was mostly out of sight, and surrounded by the most bustle.
"Don't worry about anything, Cleo!" Nitocris called out from yet another stall in support.
Even so, the chorus of chaos grew again while their delightful conversations continued. It was a strange balance, and a unique internal war. Excitement tried to trump anxiety. Worry tried to smother enthusiasm. It was all just a bit silly, to be honest.
It was likely because… after a lifetime of plotting, manipulating, and decisive maneuvering, she was now at the whims of another's planning for such a precious day. Maybe it was the feeling after too long of so much going wrong, that her nerves declared she was overdo for tragedy in this life. Yet all the signs proved otherwise, and a negotiator knows to balance gut instinct with informed rationale. In this case, she only had to wait patiently until nervousness was proven wrong.
A long, beautiful day awaited, but this jam-packed schedule was scratching at her nerves. She only hoped her fiancé was faring better.
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ III ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
"Then he says to me, don't tell anyone about this or I'll have to execute you. The look of disapproval on Enkidu's face could shake the gods! I never saw Gil's face pale so quickly! He said he was just joking but Enkidu wasn't buying it!"
The booming laughter of five powerful men filled the Roman atrium. On the massive Sunscape setup, the morning sun was already rising higher on a replicated Rome. The chirping of birds and pleasant ambiance was crushed beneath the mirthful conversation within. Among the cushions, the groom and his chosen groomsmen lounged and talked. Countless plates of breakfast hors d'oeuvres rested before them, mostly untouched save for the platters of fine grapes.
Ozymandias, clad in a gifted toga with "Groomsmen" in elegant latin font, reached out to pick another grape before finishing his story. "And there we find it at an end! The tale of how Gilgamesh admitted Ishtar was a beautiful, but still useless, goddess! Not to be uttered to another soul!"
"Are you sure you should be telling us this, Ozy?" Caligula pointed out, even if a smile remained on his face. "Would this not put a stain on your friendship?"
"Hm? How so? I was informed by Astolfo that often the greatest of friends are those that can jest rudely with each other and remain friends forgiving," Ozymandias confidently stated as he held up his branch of grapes. "Indeed! There is wisdom in such a statement! If two powerful leaders are able to prod at each other without ill intent and recieve it as a strange form of appreciation, then that shows the strength of their understanding and trust. Thus, I merely put it into practice!"
"And if you didn't say it, I would have!" Iskandar bellowed before the room found themselves surrendered to mirth once more. "As far as he's come, Goldie needs to learn to take some jokes better! He wouldn't hold his temper for five seconds in the Arcade."
"Your lot tends to grow rowdy," Caesar added as he spotted the opportunity to talk. "Modern entertainment seems to be quite the colosseum."
"I keep insisting you should try it!" Iskandar instantly offered as he readjusted his oversized, yet still fairly tight, groomsmen toga. "Though our true armies may not march beside us, the possibilities are endless. Did I not tell you of the time I marched on Genghis Khan with my alliance of Russians, Polynesians, and Germans?"
"Indeed, you spoke of it before. You spoke of the victory claimed and the bounties of the honesty. You've spoken much of this video game of… civilization?"
"A fine field for us to test our mettle. Many others too!" Iskandar offered, and though his curiosity grew with every week, he remained mostly uninterested. In the end, this Civilization was just a video game for entertainment. It wasn't true conquest he'd known before, but now shied away from. Despite his and Cleopatra's small side wish of seeing the Roman-Egyptian Empire bloom in homage to the great King of Conqueror's time, that was a mission that was unreachable.
Then again, maybe this game could offer a fleeting glimpse… 'If Ozymandias and Gilgamesh can play certain games, than what is one to exercise my wits…?"
"The offer forever remains, Caesar! I look forward to the day I may challenge you, Scipio, Barca, Napoloen…" Iskandar paused before letting out a cry of excitement that drew Ozymandias' signature laugh. "If only they'd arrive! There's too many leaders I want to challenge on the virtual field! …Ah. I'm getting carried away again and leaving others out of our conversation."
"But it is a fascinating one," Romulus pointed out graciously before taking a bit of a croissant.
Caligula nodded. "It reminds me of the excitement of Romans after leaving the colosseums."
"I suppose that's one way to relate it," Iskandar scratched his chin. "A large audience is possible with this twitching service."
From one topic to the next, the conversation swirled. It was… a lot less hectic than Caesar thought it would be. Usually these ceremonies were filled with a far stricter timeline with armies of servants to prepare the venue, but Nero's chosen modern blend was rather relaxing. Very relaxing.
Perhaps far too relaxing for the First Emperor's liking.
A long, beautiful day awaited, but this calm waiting was starting to rake at his nerves. He only hoped his fiancé was faring better.
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IV ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
Snap.
They say the big day centers around the bride. That carried far more weight for a fashionista. Far taller for a Pharaoh. With such high expectations for her prestige, not a thing would be allowed to go wrong.
Snap. Snap.
With every flare of George's external flash, Cleopatra swore she saw the near-future. Would the pranksters try their most blasphemous attack yet? Would the Tamamos get into their bi-hourly scuffle and ruin the wedding cake? The possibilities flashed before her, stretching her nerves erratically like a bungee cord.
Snap. Snap.
George's camera was hardly helping. She trusted his skill, of course, but she second guessed her flawless appearance. The suited man walked away to snap shots of her bridesmaids, and for a moment she missed the attention. Solitude had a brief stay.
"Wow… You're looking so gorgeous, Cleo!" Nitocris breathed. As Medea and Naomi prepped the next stage of her perm, the assassin carefully turned to her fellow pharaoh. Usually straight-haired, Cleopatra was impressed to see Nitocris looked stunning with lavender beachy waves. To no surprise, the caster flinched, and the assassin easily caught the shiver that raced beneath her friend's bridesmaid robe.
Cleopatra's worries of Chaldea's usual chaos slipped as Nitocris stuttered. "I-I mean you're always very gorgeous, but-!"
"I know what you mean, Nito," the bride smiled. It'd been well over a year since they met, and the caster was still ever so stiff and fidgety around her peers. Amusing and cute, really. A quirk of insecurity that faded, but never truly vanished. "You're a blossomed flower of the Nile yourself. As you should be."
"Thank you," She blushed, and twirled a wavy strand. "But not more than you! Especially not today! That'd be blasphemous for a bridesmaid to outshine the bri-"
"Miss Nitocris! Please refrain from touching your hair or we'll have to start from the base again!"
At the call of the staffer, the Pharaoh froze in fear and quickly released the strand. She stared at it like she'd run over a puppy, making Cleopatra giggle in delight. George's camera froze the moment for eternity too. Oh how much better it was that Nito had become almost as likely to be openly embarrassed, rather than trying to shield it behind an offended glare.
"It's fine, Nito. It's not ruined," the assassin reassured. "Whatever Naomi and Medea put in this hairspray, it's almost like glue."
"But washes off easily," Medea reassured as she returned with a hand mirror. She held it up for the fashionista to examine herself without lifting a finger. "We're only missing the highlights and a few accents, then all that remains is the tiara to frame it properly."
Cleopatra's smile grew as she examined the side and back of her tresses. The wavy strands weren't overwhelming; She was insistent she didn't look Victorian. She wanted a twist of modern with rightful tinges of her cultural ancestry: The kind of which ignited a fashion craze in Rome when she'd visited. To her delight, with all the work done so far, the Stitch Witches were proving their peerless mettle again.
That was one more worry settled among the thousand that remained.
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"Reverse Uno!" There was a bit of grumbling.
"Draw four!" There was far more grumbling, coupled with laughs.
Hours had passed since the groomsmen came to keep the groom company. For Caesar, it felt like time passed agonizingly slow. That the time was being wasted while a small contingent was preparing his bride for the big day. The voice in the back of his head said he shouldn't be playing games, eating, and talking with his closest companions.
Nero's words were consistent and insistent. 'Men take less time to get ready, so just relax and don't get stressed! You'll look your best!'
Despite wearing his favorite cultural attire, he didn't feel anywhere near his best. He even felt a bit insecure whenever George would come in to snap a few shots of 'them getting ready'. The saber had to wonder just how all of this would look in their wedding album, but he put his trust in them. He had to trust.
"Draw four, Caesar!" Iskandar bellowed with laughter as Romulus groaned lightly.
"Be nice, Iskandar! It's his big day!"
"But he was winning!" the King of Conquerors countered with a smirk and crossed arms. "A true adversary can't afford to go easy on his rivals! That's disrespectful."
Shaken from his thoughts, Caesar quickly ascertained the situation, nodded, and smirked back. "Wise words. Have a reverse uno."
"I deserved that."
Though Caesar couldn't quite get into the simple strategy of this card game, it was keeping him from pacing the atrium. His companions were doing a far better job of keeping him distracted too. At least, as best as they could. The promised time ticked closer to don his suit.
It just didn't arrive fast enough.
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It was highly unusual for a man to be allowed to photograph the bride while she was getting her dress on. In this case, there was no question George embodied his saintly title to such an extent no one held reservations. Especially not Nero, who was insistent it'd make for more intimate memories Caesar would get to see later. It warmed her smile just thinking about his expressions and how long he'd stare at some of the photos.
Though he'd left as she changed into her undergarments, George returned on cue and quickly began snapping away. "Just pretend he's not here!"
"I try, but he's no assassin," Cleopatra joked, earning a sheepish chuckle from the rider. A quick reassuring glance his way eased him. In the middle of the changing rooms, her bridesmaids, Medea, and Naomi were quickly getting her dress safely prepared for her. For a brief few moments, she was left in just her lacy attire, making her skin prickle with every snap of the shutter.
It was strange how the big day could make one so self-conscious. She'd done a few lingerie shoots which were sultrier than the ornate stockings, garter, and underwear she wore. She almost wanted to hide away from the camera, but she was quickly noticed by a fellow fashionista. "You have that look like the dress will be ripped in half. I'm sure you didn't gain weight."
"How flattering, Semi," Cleopatra mouthed back, though they shared sly smiles. "I know they won't even scuff it. Everyone but Nero, at least."
"Hey! Have trust in your Maid of Honor!"
The laughter massaged her shoulder where she stood. Cleopatra eyed Semiramis' long, wavy tresses again, then to the floor where it usually dragged behind her. "You were fine letting Jing cut it?"
"It's your day, not mine," the queen reassured as she gently flicked her head to adjust her hair. "And it's not like it won't grow back in a second."
"Fair, fair. Thank you, Semi," Cleopatra proclaimed, and without further mention, the two took a step closer to share a hug. Few would get such high intimacy from either prideful royal, but they were friends. It even felt like they'd known each other far longer than just a few months with how well they got along.
They separated, uncaring George was quickly snapping away. Semiramis smiled reassuringly. "I can feel your nerves. I thought you'd be used to this sort of thing?"
"How scandalous…" the bride mock glared. "Those days are behind me."
"I'd hope so. How many centuries has it been?" They shared a gentle laugh as Nero motioned her over. Semiramis quickly took Cleopatra's hand and led her a step closer to her big day.
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
A few full body mirrors had been moved to the atrium for their convenience. The suits, once stored in Caligula's abode, were now opened and ready. The servants buzzed in and out of certain rooms to each change and prepare their tuxedos for the big occasion. The boxes of pristinely preserved boutonnière awaited at the center of the cushions, replacing the platters of food and water.
At long last, the time had come for the groom and groomsmen to prepare. Nothing fancy or extreme. Nothing crazy. All he had to do was get on his ivory colored tuxedo, which was no way foreign compared to a suit.
Yet his hands shook as he readied his tie, and George had returned to record it for posterity.
Battle never did this to him. None of the ceremonies ever prodded at his anxiety since his early, inexperienced days as a rising star. His first wedding felt more business like and straightforward. Now here he was, fumbling with a modern garment of all things. Tying a simple tie, as if he were making his own noose. And not a tie.
Caesar stared at himself in the mirror. He cursed at his shaking hands. He looked on regretfully at his overweight material body. The one he and Cleo desperately hoped would change before the big day. It was not to be, but they were still to be. Despite any small disappointments, this day must be.
"By the gods, did you shake this much crossing the Rubicon?" Though the berserker's words were in jest, they prodded at his pride. Caesar glanced over as Caligula, already sharp in his black tuxedo, calmly reached to his mess of a knot. Conceding, the saber allowed his friend to quietly undo the terribly executed double-Windsor. A camera snapped.
Bizarre but focused, the berserker's ebony and crimson eyes calmly moved back and forth between the tie and the groom. He smiled, paused his tying, and patted the saber on the shoulder. "It's reassuring to see the greats can also be nervous over something so simple. Proves you're human."
"We're supposed to be heroic spirits," he commented.
Caligula only shrugged. "Some wraiths, phantoms, and pseudos too. But we all came into this world from the dark, screaming at the light. Humanity is hard to let go of."
Caesar nodded in admittance, but remained staring at those ebony and crimson eyes. Though crazed by appearance, it was comforting the madness was terribly weak. He was family, and watching family suffer was terrible for any. Though he felt this shared namesake and emperor was like a younger brother at first, these days the wise ruler felt more like the older one. Amusing how the roles can change in a blink of the eye.
Caligula took a step back to check his work, nodded, then motioned to the mirror. "Crisp and sharp. You could slice a hair in half."
"As handsome as I can be." For today at least. It was a far cry from the chiseled jawline and manly, Iskandar-esque physique he'd paraded in life, but what could he do? "I can't wait to see Cleo."
"Not much longer until the photoshoot," George commented with a knowing smile. "Your reaction will be immortalized too."
"If I'm to admit… That concerns me," Caesar chuckled low. "The resort is?"
"Completely reserved and vacant for the shoot. We've got a long afternoon and lots of time, so I won't let either of you ruin your look for the ceremony," George grinned. "It may be my first wedding, but I had a friend give a lot of advice and tips."
"I trust you," Caesar nodded simply as Ozymandias walked over holding the groom's tuxedo coat. He spun around so the grand pharaoh could perform the menial task of slipping it on the groom. Perhaps he should've thought far more of the act than he did, but Ozymandias didn't seem to mind in the least. He adjusted his coat, began buttoning, and steadied his breath.
"And we're set! The royals are ready for a night on the town!" Iskandar bellowed, and it was a bit of a miracle his well-fit tuxedo wasn't bursting as he did. "See, Caesar? What did you have to worry about with such a fine entourage?"
"Silly things," he admitted plainly as he looked himself over in the mirror. His eyes scanned for any possible hitch or fray. His mind beckoned to invent a mistake. Overwhelming stressful experience suffocated it with a pillow. All was well on his end.
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VIII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
They were on time, but she felt like she was late. Every single moment for the past several hours was constant prep work with no precious alone time. Despite her servant status, she was already feeling a bit exhausted. Perhaps it was because her heart ran from Cairo to Rome and back.
"You should relax or you'll miss the beautiful blur!"
Nero's voice seized her from the haze and returned her to the changing room. A quick glimpse to the clock, and not her Maid of Honor, showed only nine minutes until the anointed meeting. The ceremony was hours away, but the big moment she was waiting for loomed just ahead. Already, she was steadying her breathing while Nero held the bouquet before her. Behind her, the bridesmaids kept her train ready and prestigious for George's flashes.
Cleopatra stared into Nero's beaming face. With hair down and wavy, she almost felt like a different person. Those haughty, eager green orbs dashed any doubt. The strapless, ivory dress with white satin sash glowed in the soft light, as it did on all her other bridesmaids.
She could only hope her dress shined with the might of the desert sun. 'Why is there doubt? It will do better.'
"Hey you." Again, Nero's voice hooked Cleopatra's mind before it could wander again with uncertainty. Her warm smile anchored the pharaoh in place. "I guess that's how I looked like when I was marrying my praetor. It puts things into perspective, but there's nothing to worry about~!"
"It's only natural to," she concluded before Nero could say it. Again.
"Umu~," Nero beamed. "Time passes slow, so take advantage of that! Let this moment last an eternity!"
Feeling cheeky, she smiled slyly to her chosen friend. "Did it last as long with Tamamo?"
The exasperation painted itself onto Nero's face with one brush stroke. "It wasn't as bad as it could've been…"
"Yet the proud Empress allowed a dual marriage. Very generous of you," Cleopatra teased as Nero gently handed over the bouquet. She looked down at the array of beautiful white flowers, brought them to her nose, and sniffed gently. George snapped a shot, and Cleopatra opened her eyes again to enjoy the brief respite from her concerns.
She smiled to her Maid of Honor and gladly accepted the quick, warm, and very careful hug. It was brief, but it went miles to ease the bride. "…Thank you for today, Nero."
"You thank me at the reception! Not now!" Nero giggled gleefully. "Make it extra long?"
"And embarrassing," Cleopatra smirked. "Very embarrassing. I might even tell them about that time I caught you watching youtube singing lessons to sing at our-"
"Shush shush! Not another word!" Nero's flustered and horrified face was now inches from hers. "That never happened! You had too much wine and saw things when you came into my room and not yo- Stop laughing, Cleo! Is this how you repay me!? This is your gratitude!?"
The Empress flailed, unable to lay a single playful poke on the bride so she wouldn't mess anything up. Invulnerable, Cleopatra let her happy laughter echo out to join her bridesmaids' giggles and George's flaring camera. With a flash of apologetic eyes to Nero, the Empress began to settle amid the flashing pictures. She sighed, "I'm sorry… It didn't work out. I'm…"
"You'll get there. Your ambition won't allow you to stop," Cleopatra reassured without doubt. When Nero wanted something done or seen with her own eyes, she'd do what she could to make it a reality. Her and Caesar's reunion was one such example, which the pharaoh could never truly express her thanks for. Between that, the fashion, the closeness of their cultures, and more than she would try to list, they'd wound up the closest of royals and best of friends.
She was glad that friendship made this day very possible.
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IX ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
It was rather unsettling to see the resort completely empty in the early afternoon. Most guests were getting dressed, and lunch was served in the salon. The forged wildlife still went about their business as usual. Even the small troop of monkeys paused along the shoreline to stare curiously at the lone saber among the tropical flower garden, wondering why everyone else had vanished. They marched on, while he remained alone with a thundering heart.
The blue iridescent rose shimmered freshly on his suit. The golden lapels of Rome and Ancient Egypt glinted on his tuxedo collar. Ready and waiting quietly among the largest patch of grass, he controlled his breaths to try and settle his worries. Excitement was blooming within, but the hidden battle thus far could go either way.
How many seconds had passed like hours before George's voice echoed in his mind? "Please remain facing forward, Caesar."
Like a spell, his heartbeat accelerated. His ears perked up, catching the snaps of George's camera from the Memorial Hall entrance behind him. The clicks of her heels on pavement made him want to turn, but he held patience. The moment for his lover's decisive strike must not be spoiled.
Soft giggles of the bridesmaids, and chuckles from groomsmen, tried to hook his eyes. His heartbeat roared so much he thought he was having a heart attack. As he got a feel for her familiar aura, he held firm. He had to hold firm. All so he could hold her firmly in his arms when the chains were lifted from both of them.
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"You're doing fine, Cleopatra. I'll tell you when to stop."
Muffled and quiet, Cleopatra felt his presence as she approached. Her bridesmaids carried the train to ensure no snags, but her eyes could only see him. Everything was a haze save for the back of her groom, standing patiently yet impatiently in the grassy patch ahead. She was just as shaken. The sea of flowers waving in the gentle breeze made her feel like she was losing her balance too.
Her heartbeat was impossibly high, just as his was. She could feel it in his presence. The nervousness. The excitement. They matched perfectly.
She breathed in rough, but let it out slow. Still and pristine, the bouquet was clutched like a lifeline. Her legs sallied forth at her whim, all while George snapped away from different angles unnoticed. With every click and step, her insecurities seemed to bloom further. They were rivalled only by the growth of her warm smile as she eyed her lover.
Cleopatra cared not this day wasn't as perfect as it could be: They'd make it so.
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"When I say so, you may turn around." George's words were the absolute crescendo.
Caesar could feel her just behind him. His lover was mere paces away, staring right into his soul while he could only gaze across the phantasmal resort sea. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and pleaded for his heart to rest. It lent him no ear. His nerves failed to settle. The giggling of the bridesmaids only made it worse as they rushed away.
An eternity later, he heard Ozymandias' and Iskandar's booming laugh. He wished he knew what the joke was; Not him, he hoped. The bridesmaids giggles came after. Then Cleopatra's… His dear Cleopatra's royal, warm, and inviting giggle. His patience was empty. The restraints broke like thin tethers to a mighty stallion wishing to gallop free. Yet somehow, he remained steadfast.
One more eternity later, George stepped into view. Caesar almost wanted to curse the pure saint for photographing him in such a terrible struggle. If not for how much effort he put into restraining himself, he might've ordered a few sarcastic words forth. Another of Cleopatra's warm, impatient giggles tried to massage his form into rest. They did the opposite. Praying to whatever gods saw fit to torture him, he pleaded for permission to cross this long-desired Rubicon.
After eons, the wait was over. "Your bride is ready. Please turn around, Caesar."
He spun around so fast, the bridal party erupted into loud laughter further away. They were drowned out by the rapid-fire flares of George's camera, seemingly on the verge of overheating. None of it registered. Only the tranquil silence that emanated from his bride's beauty reached his ears.
Mouth agape, he took her in. Flowing beachy curls all the way through, directed loosely behind her by an lavish, Egyptian-styled tiara. It was joined by baby blue roses laced perfectly in her tresses. The bouquet was held before her bosom, where the grand, lacy strapless began. Ivory filigree danced intricately along its edges and flanks. Its silky waves hugged her upper half, only to extend into a large train behind her that could rival the Sistine Chapel; A carpet of diamonds was duller.
Yet, his eyes remained focused on her face. There was no veil to hide her beauty, nor scores of makeup to mask what was already perfect. What little dusting she had was the perfect complement, as she always ensured. Though he was always insistent on looking his best, it was Cleopatra who ensured a flawless appearance. For both of them.
And there they stood, both smiling at each other speechlessly as George photographed them. Too lost were they in each other's eyes that they failed to see their heartbeats fell to dance steadily in tandem. The anxieties had been cast away and seemingly forgotten in the birth of the moment. For a final eternity, they stared in awe as the sun shined upon them.
The bridal party watched on until Caesar finally found his lips could move. Cleopatra watched him amusingly as he tried to voice something. Anything. Finally, he… chuckled. A bit nervously, maybe a touch awkwardly. But some noise was a start.
She eyed him, but her smile nearly faltered despite knowing him so well. "You're not laughing at me I hope, Julius. That's not what a bride hopes for..."
"N-No, no, forgive me, Cleo," he stuttered quickly, as only few could make him do. With a smile, he jested. "I just wondered if 'you'll be pleasantly surprised' meant you'd be rolled out on a rug again."
Cleopatra barely got a breath before she burst into laughter. He joined her, as she clutched the flowers to her chest. "Maybe Nero would have planned it if that wouldn't ruin the dress."
"You alone make everything more beautiful," he quickly commented as his tone fell confident.
Hers grew appreciative and cheeky. "Are you saying I could've settled for lesser rags?"
"Would the rug count as a rag?" Again, they laughed as Caesar closed the final few steps to his lover. Taking one of her hands in his, he held it gently. Caressed the top of its slender form with his thumb. Cleopatra stifled her mirth, then found herself gazing once more into Caesar's warm eyes. Holding her hand was more than enough to settle any last worries that tried to slip back in.
She looked eagerly into his eyes, and though they said it all, his words engraved the air. "You've outdone yourself again."
"Of course." Though a glint of tears welled in Cleopatra's happy eyes, she beamed blissful and free. So much so she had to clutch the bouquet to her chest. "It's only natural for a pharaoh."
"This will be a hard one to outdo, but I'm sure you'll try," he chuckled warmly. "With no offense to your future wardrobes, I feel today's will remain my favorite."
"…Of course," she sniffled, and he reached over to gently wipe the tear from her eye before it could try to damage her image; Impossible as that may be. She giggled in gratitude. "How bold of you… making me cry before the ceremony."
"You love it when I give speeches, and I hate it when I'm speechless," he appeased, letting the mirth slide back onto both their faces. "May I not speak praises of you? You always love that."
"Do I?" she chided back playfully as they fell silent. Whether or not it was right to do so, new or old traditions be damned, they felt compelled to lean in. They gently closed their eyes. A quick peck, as they always shared; The best one would come soon. Further away, the bridal party clapped and cheered.
With hands entwined, and the bouquet between them, they gazed for seeming hours before paying heed to George's once-forgotten presence. After a glance to each other, and a warm smile, the cameraman took their first non-candid shot of the session. George glanced at the back of his screen, smiled, and nodded. "Shall we begin the bridal party shoot? We'll take our time, of course. We've plenty to spare."
"Direct us, George. You're the expert on this," Caesar relinquished with an eager smile. George nodded, then beckoned for them to stay put. He began framing them perfectly with the sea to their backs, and the flowers covering the foreground. His camera flashed soon after, but not brighter than the couple's smiles.
As he led them through the first pictures, they both wondered just what they were worried about in the first place.
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"Horse and carriage with the just married sign?"
Cleopatra hummed and clicked her tongue. "Mmm. That's a safe guess. Nero did say something would move us about while they readied the reception."
"If that's the case, I'll carry you onto it."
"And my train?" There was a small pause, and Cleopatra turned coyly to her lover beside her. "Dear Julius… loosing your touch? You plan for everything."
"I pray for a moment to sort out the logistics!" he clamored as they shared another warm laugh. Their faces were definitely going to be sore before the night's end.
The camera snapped behind them. They remained at the boardwalk rail, having just finished the flower garden shots. The bridesmaids and groomsmen would join them again shortly for this segment, but for now, it was just them. Perched alone at the railing, with her against his chest and leaned back in his arms while talking about the rest of the wedding.
Or whatever the conversation turned to next. Cleopatra eyed the marina in the distance with a curious glint. "…Is that a miniature corvette? Hm, its colors. A French corvette?"
"I fear Marie wasn't content with just her salon all along," Caesar blinked as Cleopatra giggled. "But a warship? A gift for a future war hero?"
"I need to ask Marie about this one," Cleopatra noted as she instinctively reached for her purse and phone. Which wasn't at her side like it should be because today was her wedding. Embarrassed, she flushed lightly as Caesar chuckled at her. "It's muscle memory. I guess I'll have to inquire about it at the reception."
"That's fair," Caesar hummed as he stared at the ship. George quietly moved closer, but the saber's eyes never left the strange new addition to the Chaldea fleet. "Now that I think about it, didn't the young ones say they needed more firepower against pirate raiders?"
Cleopatra blinked and gazed back into his eyes with mirth. "Are you saying those are water cannons?"
"Water balloon cannons?" he shrugged and his bride laughed. "What? They need all the firepower they can get to best the legendary Drake."
"I think a fire hose would have sufficed, but I think you're right."
As George quietly directed them from time to time, their casual chat shifted again. It almost felt like just another romantic date.
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"Uno? You were playing Uno?"
Caesar lifted his hands in defense, even if Cleopatra was giggling. "There was little else to do but talk! And I said no to monopoly!"
"A very strategic decision, my love," the assassin pointed out playfully. "Wouldn't want to cause a grudge between groomsmen on the big day."
"That's what I told Iskandar," Caesar chuckled back, nearly unaware of the camera shutter behind them. George was remarkably adept at remaining subtle during their little shoot. It helped they currently took a slow walk across the beach, a safe distance from the waves. Behind them, the groomsmen and bridesmaids carried the train safely above its grains now that some of the stationary beach candids were complete.
Moving slow and steadily towards the forest groves, the sea breeze tickled them. A few birds resting in their way offered some unique moments for their photographer. The rather curious parrot seemed content to sit in their path. Their warm excitement bought extra patience for the lingering avian.
"Alright, little bird. You had your chance. Move along please," George ushered as he gently shooed the bird out of their path. The pair giggled as the hyacinth macaw unfurled its wings, waddled a few steps, then took off to join its companions. George shook his head with a smile. "Fearless before such powerful majesty. They act like they own the place, hm?"
"They own the cabana after lunch is served," Carmilla joked. With obstacles removed, they marched to the forest.
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"Marie! This way! We're not supposed to be watching this!"
"Awwww but I wanna watch~! Cleo looks so beautiful!"
"I'll talk to you in time, Marie! I have to ask you about that yacht!" Cleopatra proclaimed between her laughter. By the edge of the forest clearing, Marie, comfy and pretty in her red summer dress, was dragged off by well-dressed Mozart and Sanson. The guests were already headed to the cape's ceremony sight, but some, like Marie, just had to sneak a peak. It was hardly the worst Chaldea could throw at them, and nothing worthy of minding.
"Well, now that the French Queen has surrendered, more bridal party shots?" George smiled as he motioned for the two groups to come closer. "Let's start with the bridesmaids again. Carmilla, if you please?"
They may have taken over a dozen photos in different spots already, but this was par for the course in wedding photography. As if Cleopatra minded. While Caesar moved aside to join his groomsmen, Carmilla sauntered over with perfect grace. Clutching her own set of flowers, she smirked on final approach. "Take nine?"
"I lost count," Cleopatra chuckled as the two looped their arms around each other in well-versed fashion. "Next stop, the venue."
"And your destined runway," Carmilla said as their pearly whites gleamed with every camera flash. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind getting this over with."
"Iskandar isn't a bad guy," the bride whispered back, though the rider heard them. He simply flashed them two thumbs up and a cheeky grin.
Carmilla rolled her eyes but smiled. "No, but he's far too boisterous for me to handle."
"I try," he yelled back, making Ozymandias chuckle.
"I would've preferred Tosh, but… well, C'est la vie," the pale royal sighed amusingly. "Your day, not mine."
"We're fashionistas. Every day is our day," Cleopatra countered, and her friend shrugged and smirked in agreement. "Thanks for being a part of this."
"Like Nero said. Save it for the reception," Carmilla rolled her eyes, but accepted Cleopatra's quick embrace as the camera flared. "A royal doesn't simply turn down another in good standing. That's curt."
"You're a good friend too," the bride replied as they posed one final time like divas. If they weren't both enthusiastic fashionistas, she felt a friendship may have never sparked. Carmilla's extreme measures weren't to Cleopatra's tastes, and the pharaoh's proud demeanor eclipsed her friend's own. They had nearly as many disagreements as mutual interests. Yet, they found ground and capitalized well.
Bloody history as she may have, she made for a surprisingly good friend with her walls partially down. An even better bridesmaid and fashion rival. Sauntering off, they shared a little goodbye wiggle of slender fingers before Semiramis approached for her turn. And with every step her friend took, Cleopatra realized her heartbeat was rising yet again.
Her anxiety grew even worse than before as the minutes ticked by, but she felt Caesar's nervousness was not far behind.
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The outdoor venue was classy, prim, and rather simple. White banners and blue accents wreathed trees and tables alike. Folding chairs stood rank in file along the small cape, staring out to the phantasmal sea. A beautiful red carpet with golden accents led to a porcelain trellis covered with roses. From small to large, every detail was meticulously placed and accented for the ceremony and its guests.
There were only so many invited. Cleopatra ensured the Urukians were honored guests. As traditional for royal ceremonies, other noble houses, and prestigious groups were sent invitations. Family and friends went without saying… Well, it started small for sure. By the time Caesar and Cleopatra crafted the list, nearly all of Chaldea was on it.
It gave some anxiety to the couple. As civil as they were at face value, some coals only awaited a spark. Social politics was a glass floor carefully manicured on the surface. Relations between New Camelot and the Urukians was one such example, and Caesar was more than worried Gilgamesh may not hold his tongue when the fine wine started flowing. Reassurances from many said much, but anxiety was a cockroach squeezing beneath doors. Only the ceremony would tell the truth.
And as the traditional music played, they were already a minute in.
The groom marched down the aisle as every eye swept to him. Even a minute after it happened, Caesar felt his heart beat in his throat while his groomsmen joined him one at a time. Amakusa, battle-clad with a bible in hand, waited with Caesar at the altar, and though both appeared calm, the saber's once-lost nervousness had grown deafening. The ruler sensed it easily. "Excited too, I hope?"
"Must that be asked? If I wasn't, Cleopatra would never let me live it down." The two shared a quick smile and turned down the aisle.
It was amusing to watch all of them march down with graceful precision like it were a runway. No doubt, the fashionistas always put on a show… And then there was Nitocris. Otherwise calm and collected, the constant twitches of her headband drew some chuckles and giggles from the audience. That only exasperated her self-consciousness further; An ouroboros of embarrassment. Par for the course for the pharaoh.
Then all stood at the music's cue. Every eye, especially his, was on the final leg of the train. Nursery Rhyme, with a blend of childish glee and prim sophistication, waltzed down the aisle in her white gown spreading the flower petals. Every one that touched the ground bloomed into a white rose. It was mesmerizing to watch, but not as much as his bride a few paces behind.
Her father couldn't walk her down, just as he had no mother present to assist. But this was a blend of new and old, and not an ounce of disappointment rested on delicate features. She strolled forth, commanding the approach like a proud pharaoh. Grace of a fashionista. Optimism of a blushing bride.
His heart swelled again, and the nervousness grew silent with every clack of her heels.
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"Dearly beloved, we gather here today…"
The ceremony strolled along in a blur after those first words. The entire time Cleopatra felt like she stood before the afterlife's promised gates. The rehearsal laid everything out simple, so they moved like clockwork. But it never laid out the honest words from all. Amakusa's lovely opening remarks were just the first teary sparks to her proud, happy heart.
Already on the verge of tears, she wondered how she was going to survive her personal vow speech for Caesar… and then his to her after. Still, holding his hands as they faced each other, she mustered her strength. Her friends, several noble families, dozens of servants… She wasn't about to embarrass herself before all of them.
"It's alright to cry today~." Though Cleopatra didn't show it, she silently scolded her Maid of Honor for such a cheeky poke at a critical juncture.
With a deep breath, she began. "A pharaoh is blessed with everything upon birth. We are looked up to, honored, beloved, and respected by our people. Our word is divine, and our pride justified. We embody everything, and though some say we may act in arrogance or vein, we do so because it's our birthright. Let no one mistake. Among pharaohs, I am beautiful, well respected, and blessed, but carry no shortage of humility for my station. Emperor Julius Caesar, you should feel blessed and privileged I picked you."
Caesar finally broke into chuckles at the end of her first part, joined by the audience in no small number. Her smile turned sly and playful, but it barely hid the growing glint. But she held her sniffles. She breathed deep, and walked on.
"…But I'm far more blessed. The day I was unfurled on that carpet, I aimed to impress. I wished to shock, but you were the one who did. Your poise which I'd first glimpsed and came to love. Your stature and pride. The overwhelming confidence you exuded with every breath. You were a pharaoh in Roman colors. You became my savior shortly after. A cunning leader, but a surprising romantic. Devious and ambitious at times, but thoughtful and humble in others. When I thought I knew all about you, you always kept surprising me."
She sniffled, but her smile held like her gaze. "Even after our parting and reunion. After the terrible superficial and shallow words I struck you with. You remained loyal to me. It was another blessing. A devotion I didn't deserve after what you showed, but you proved your endless patience. Everything else from our past is long gone, but you still wished for me and Caesarion. And again, I saw a side of you I never knew, and the first I never wanted to see again. Your pain, desperation. Your regrets. Your strong but wounded heart."
Caesar gently squeezed her hands, but she saw no look of pain in his eyes. The waves of disappointment flowing through his hands into hers were obvious: It was over himself. No matter how many times it was raised, he never blamed her. She hated and loved that. It made the last words more important to her.
"They say behind every strong man is a stronger woman. I'd like to prove those words true, if only to never see you in such lows where you never belonged. If you are to belong anywhere, I wish for it to be at my side, for better and worse. Through the most grueling of times and greatest of triumphs, just like those long-lost days beneath Ra's blessed gaze. Let me be at your side so I may help you stand at your full height as the great Julius Caesar, the man who continues to mesmerize me with every passing day. All this beautiful pharaoh wishes in return is the endless love you bless me with each passing day."
It was a miracle she made it through all that without cracking, but she was the renowned diplomatic pharaoh of Ancient Egypt. Even if it was alright, she didn't crack. Not now. Not as much as she wanted to.
Respectful silence followed as Amakura glanced to Caesar so he may say his words. Cleopatra held steady, hands in his, and waited. She beckoned warmth from her eyes to his. Steeled her heart for what was to come, so she may ride the rest of the ceremony out in full grace.
How futile… There was no way he wasn't going to claim victory over her attempt. He always found a way to make her weak. And with the great grace and sophistication Caesar was renowned for, he began his attack.
"Cleo, how am I supposed to follow that up?" the great orator half-gawked, sending Ozymandias into loud laughter. A giggle slipped from her lips. The mirth grew, even as Caesar's exasperated eyes fell soft and warm. Warmer than the hold on her hands. "Must you always leave me so speechless?"
He hadn't even begun his vow and already he had to wipe the first tear from her happy eyes.
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"And now, by the power vested in me…"
Their giddiness had grown apparent. Their enthusiasm was untameable as the wedding rings sat where they should. The crowd's anticipation grew thick alongside bright smiles and eager eyes. After so many words, all that remained were the blessed few lines from Amakusa. After a brief knowing smile to both of them, he tortured the couple no further.
"…I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now seal your promise with a kiss."
Hesitation was long extinct for simple kisses; Unfathomably so for the greatest one. Amakusa barely finished his last line before Cleopatra fell limp in Caesar's loving embrace. Eyes shut in heavenly bliss, their lips locked like countless times before. At long last, the first few tears Caesar failed to catch slipped from the bride's closed eyes. Their heartbeats entwined and skipped down a promising trail, all to the loud chorus of present Chaldeans.
Maybe it's because their lips had touched so many times before, but the moment didn't feel as magical as it could've been; Not that it wasn't. It was the peak of Everest, but they both quietly felt like it could've been to the moon. Nevertheless, it met their expectation regardless. Spectacular. Promising. Relieving.
As it's supposed to be.
Finally breaking for a breath, the two blushing lovers, now married couple, kept their foreheads touched. The cheers of jubilation were a muffled drone, but a pleasant one to the beat of their hearts. Their gentle breaths leaked with satisfaction that the last cause for anxiety was over. It was all finally over, and from here on, it was thanking guests and partying at the rece-
Loud wailing finally barged into their minds alongside growing chuckles. They were quick to glance to the cause just behind Cleopatra, but the bridesmaids were well trained. They had a plan well ahead of schedule. Well, as much of a plan as anyone has for an overly happy Empress.
"Nero! Oh for- Semi! Help me here!" Carmilla almost groaned as Nero clung onto her as support. "Nero! Nero! Cleo is supposed to be the one crying loudest in happiness!"
"Oh, she's just being herself," Caligula commented from his side of the alter, earning a snicker from Iskandar. The chuckles of those watching on grew into a roar. "Hold on and give her a few minutes."
"We have to return down the ais- Nero! You're getting my dress wet!"
"B-B-B-B-B…" Apparently the Empress couldn't even say but. "It's s-s-s-so b-b-beu-t-t-t-"
"Beautiful. It absolutely was, Miss Empress, but you're not being very beautiful yourself," Carmilla rolled her eyes to the growing delight around her. As Semiramis tried to pry Nero off, the saber only pulled the other assassin into a hug to. "Nero! Oh for…"
And so the first 'hitch' of the day finally appeared, but it only left the newlyweds in happy laughter.
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After Nero sorted herself out in a timely fashion, she revealed the after-ceremony surprise. They'd returned down the aisles, greeted every single guest, only for the Egyptian felucca to sail up beside the cape. An ethereal bridge was summoned so the newly weds and bridal party could reach the vessel for a small cruise and a post-ceremony photoshoot on the Chaldean seas. It would allow the staff and robots to prepare the ceremony site for the reception.
So without hesitation, and with the long train held by the bridesmaids, Caesar swept Cleopatra into his arms and began his walk down the flowery bridge. His initial worry that Merlin was going to pull a joke was eased upon seeing how close Arturia and Mordred stood beside the caster in question: No attempts for certain. His earnest words helped too. As did the shower of ethereal blooms that rained from the sky to brighten their day, all at his behest.
What they didn't expect were the temporary crew: The Knights of the Round.
Bedivere looked remarkably sharp in the pristine white sailing uniform. He waited at the end of the dock to welcome them aboard, complete with flower necklaces in hand. Beside him, Tristan let his guitar play a soft serenade for their approach. It made the bride and groom glance to each other with raised eyebrows.
"They didn't skip a thing," Cleopatra noted plainly. "I wonder what awaits us on board?"
A rather loud call from somewhere on the vessel answered her. "Gareth! What did you do!? This isn't our property!"
"I didn't mean to, big brother!" came the younger knight's apologetic cry. "You said get the ship out of park and I did!"
"How'd you manage to snap off the brake lever!?" Gawain's panic was growing pretty evident. An amusing tone for a gallant knight. "The bridal party will be boarding any second!"
Lancelot's head appeared from a door on the felucca's flank for a split second before retreating. "Gawain, they're already here."
"We'll shame our King if we mess this up!" Gawain's panic was now very evident as the couple stopped right at the gangplank to the ship.
Tristan shook his head sadly while Bedivere chuckled sheepishly and bowed. "Please accept an apology on behalf of the knights. We didn't mean to…"
Cleopatra surprised Bedivere by waving it off with a giggle. "That lever is finicky. Nito's Medjed break it all the time."
Embarrassed bumbling from behind, followed by giggles and laughs from the bridal party, relieved Bedivere. He called out, "Gawain! It's fine! We'll just have to improvise!"
"Improvise? We're not versed in mechanics," the knight called out again, making Bedivere and Tristan share a glance of disbelief. They sighed for their friend, even as he called out again. "Uh, Bedivere?"
"It's a felucca, Gawain. A sail ship. It has sails. The ones you said would look beautiful unfurled before we weighed anchor?" Tristan finally voiced without a hitch of his music.
The long, embarrassed silence that followed was stifled by the bridal party's mirth and the first steps onto the ship.
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"A shame it's not sunset."
"I'm content with the finest of wines," Caesar commented as they leaned against the ship's railing. She glanced to their two golden cups filled with Gilgamesh's best drink. Caesar swirled his. "This drink isn't half bad either."
"Requesting one kiss after another, are you?" his wife questioned even as she leaned in for a quick peck. The breeze was threatening her carefully curated hair, but the key moment had passed. The final ship photos too. If the relaxing ride wouldn't doom it, then the reception would cause it to droop with all its promised activity.
"Hey, lovebirds! Let's get another toast in for good health!"
"You mean another excuse for a drink, Iskandar?"
The laughter behind them caused them to turn, but already the bridal party respectfully surrounded them at the rail. But why would they refuse? After a glance to each other, and a raise of their golden cups, they clinked it with the fine wine glasses their friends held. "Cheers!"
Their drinks went down smooth, but George had rushed elsewhere. Only Gareth's call broke them from a renewed conversation. "Ooooh~! The dolphins are playing~!"
Suddenly, their calm and sophisticated gathering turned into a mad rush to the bow to see the sudden treat. Thankfully her friends were thoughtfully helping with the train, which Cleopatra would be glad to finally remove before disembarking. Her poor hair was at the further mercy of the wind, but it should last at least half way through the reception.
At least she hoped.
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Royal weddings were serious affairs. By virtue of old, they were mostly business contracts: True love was a bonus, but unnecessary. The air would be soft with respectful chatter and further negotiations. Many in this time would call the reception a networking event and not the joyous occasion many knew. Honestly, Cleopatra and Caesar would gladly admit the lesser classes certainly knew how to make weddings a beautiful, happy affair.
Chaldea, being Chaldea, naturally dialed it into a proper party fit for heroes.
"Another toast to the newlyweds!" That was the seventh in the past ten minutes.
"Umu~! All gifts go on that table!" Even now, the overflowing gift table was resembling a mountain.
"This song is fire! Turn it up, DJ!" The modern beat was already loud enough to make Mozart nauseous.
"Blessed servant metabolism! If not for that, I'd be a hundred pounds heavier for the new year!" The food was definitely the highest quality.
"I think you need to cut back on the wine, Quetz!" It's hard to tell since she was always the chipper, avid dancer.
"This day was so emotional and beautiful, even the cake is in tiers!" The only groans of the evening erupted. It was a bit unfortunate, but pun guy was the only one with DJ experience since Tyler fell sick. Fortunately, it would be the only one of the evening. Whether out of respect or not, the couple would never ask.
But at least it was a rather good one this time, to which neither would admit.
They simply enjoyed the last bites of their meal at their shared table. The many others were filled and happy, while the designated dance floor was refilling with fun-seeking guests. The numbers would swell in time, especially with some of the bridal party already beckoning for the couple to join them. The few times it'd be cleared would be the first dance and other fun little marriage games that have become customary reception moments.
They were eagerly waiting to find out what 'the shoe game' was all about.
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ XXI ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
~~Take me as I am~~
~~Put your hand in mine now and forever~~
~~Darling here I stand, stand before you now~~
~~Deep inside I always knew~~
Cleopatra sniffled, but she wiped her own tear away. Her makeup had run a bit, but Medea and Naomi were quick to fix it at any beckon. She really did owe those two far more than she could ever fully admit. In another time or life, they would have been prized servants she'd reward handsomely. Friends and fashion associates were a fair tradeoff.
Dancing gently in Caesar's arms, with traditional ballroom moves of choice, they felt like stars among the flaring phone flashes of many watching. The sun set beyond the cape, and the amber hues glistening with every new angle they presented. Alone to Jeanne's cover song they first listened to on their first date in Chaldea, they relished the first dance of wedded hearts. An act long, long overdue.
"It was a great day. Our honeymoon in March… and then what?" Cleopatra whispered curiously.
"Oh, you know. Some sorties to break the doldrums of peace," Caesar joked, as his smile turned a touch wistful. "…A shame we can't have children."
"Mmm. That would've been pleasant…" They both dearly missed Caesarion, but there was only so much that could be done about that. He wasn't exactly qualified as a heroic spirit by anyone's estimate. Seeing some happy families in Chaldea always did bring up that idea, and though the future and expertise of many offered much, not all could fall into their lap. "…Maybe…"
"Maybe," Caesar agreed, but pulled her a little closer. "We'll find a new ambition to look forward to. As a married couple, this time."
"Honeymoon first," Cleopatra reminded with a playful squeeze of his bicep. "I can't wait to see Rome. Oh. Medea and Naomi showed me this interesting cruise. I nearly forgot with all the running about."
"I hope you weren't running around with that train. Someone could trip."
"You know what I mean, Julius." Again, she playfully squeezed his arm, rolled her eyes, and giggled. "I think you'd like it. It's no carriage across the old empire, but the Mediterranean by sail would be an exotic way to tour the lands."
"You'll have to show me later."
Cleopatra's stare turned a touch sultry. "Later before or…?"
"Hmm… Yes." Once more, he proved himself the mighty orator that could send her into a little giggle fit.
With mild preparations of the future lost to their circling conversations, the two danced on. Much of the reception remained, but it would fly by quickly. Even as the celebration lasted well into the night. With New Years only two days away, Chaldea ended the year on a higher note than one year ago.
2017 had a high bar to meet.