Roji- so do I haha

general zargon- Know what's funny? I kinda thought Rowan would be a guy, too XD

Mewtwo3642- YESSS YOU CREATED PERFECT SYMMETRY! But then it died T.T

Imaginefun- Haha I can picture Death saying that

snowcloud8- Thank you ^^

GigiandMad- Thank you and your welcome!

T.T" Sorry for not responding to all reviews, but thanks, Lanny-Sama, NorthernMage, FilthyTricksyHobbitses/Dearie, Universal808, SoniKZooM, and GrossGirl18 for reviewing! I'm so lazy so that's why I'm not replying to all ^^" Sorrrrrrrry!

Ooh, and I'm curious: I'm working on an Itachi story (Naruto), if I posted the first chapter, would you guys read and review? Obviously, you don't have to, but it would be appreciated!

Onto the story now~!

Death adjusted his tie apprehensively, peering out from behind the door. Most of the guests had arrived, seated in the white benches outside. He was inside his manor, allowing Rowan to fuss over him. She was dressed in a suit as well, her goggles and high collar noticeably missing. She didn't appear uncomfortable, busying herself with adjusting his lapel.

"Honestly, sir, ya wear suits all the time; why're ya such a slob?" She was griping, picking lint off his sleeve.

He wasn't listening to her, silently counting how the number of guests. "Why are there so many? Did we really invite everyone? Oh, gods, Rowan, what's the name of the bride again?"

"Missy Ophelia." Rowan replied dryly, having answered him for the third time in less than fifteen minutes. "Sir, ya alright? Ya seem...nervous."

"Nervous? Who said I'm nervous. I'm Lord Death; there is nothing I fear!" His laugh was high pitched.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Right. The ceremony's gonna start in 'bout twenty minutes. Can ya pull yaself together by then?"

"I'm pulled together!" He declared, his knees shaking.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Better than nothin' I guess."

Death poked his fingers nervously together. The orchestra was already beginning to play, stalling the crowd until the ceremony began. A flash of black caught his eye and he swiveled his head to follow it. He narrowed his eyes when he couldn't find it. That was odd...

"Ouch!" He started and glared at Rowan, who was trying to pin his buotonniere to his lapel. It was a red rosebud. She had jabbed him with the pin and glowered up at him.

"If ya would stop movin', it'd be easier!" She grumbled, pulling away with a nod of satisfaction.

He lightly touched the bud, its petals soft like velvet, and he peered out again. "It's time."

"Get out there then!" She shoved him out the door.

"Don't rush me!" He snapped, paling beneath his mask when all the guests turned around to watch him and Rowan walk down the aisle to their position at the altar.

He audibly gulped and held his head high, refraining from speaking to the guests, sans dipping his head at them in acknowledgment. He got to the altar and waited patiently for Ophelia, his hands folded in front of him. Rowan stood beside him, cheeks ready to tear, her grin was so wide. He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth when he heard the orchestra begin to play "The Wedding March."

One of his Death Scythes, a gaunt man, was giving her away. It was her request; she considered all the Death Scythes part of her family and Henry was the oldest, so she viewed him as a father figure. He wasn't paying attention to Henry, though. His focus was on her.

Her dress's neckline sloped before squaring off at the top of her chest. The sleeves were long and hemmed with a pink fabric, as was the bottom of the dress. Her train trailed behind her, moving gracefully behind her. The choker he had gotten her was still around her neck; the only jewelry she had on. Her veil was gossamer, looking as if spiders had weaved it. Her long, braided hair had white primrose incorporated into it with her thick locks pulled over her left shoulder. She was beaming behind the veil and he impatiently wished the pace would be quickened.

Henry took her hand and held it out expectantly for Death to take. He held his hand out, palm up, and curled his fingers into her palm when Henry placed her hand in his. Henry's somber gray eyes met him and he murmured raspily, "Take good care of her."

"I will." He replied quietly, bringing Ophelia closer to the altar with him. He turned to face her and took her other hand.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony." The priest began, gesturing to Death and Ophelia.

Ophelia was staring at him lovingly, but he could feel her shaking. She was just as nervous as he was and that thought soothed him, oddly enough. He rubbed her palm with his thumb, alleviating his and her timorousness.

"...Death, will you take Ophelia to be your wife, your partner in life, and your one true love? Will you cherish her friendship and love her today, tomorrow, and forever? Will you trust and honor her, laugh with her and cry with her? Will you be faithful through good times and bad, in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?"

I've never been more certain of anything in my life. He said firmly, "I will."

The priest turned to Ophelia and repeated the same thing, "Ophelia, will you take Death to be your husband, your partner in life, and your one true love? Will you cherish his friendship and love him today, tomorrow and forever? Will you trust and honor him, laugh with him and cry with him? Will you be faithful through good times and bad, in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?"

Her voice cracked as she tearfully declared, "I will."

His heart swelled. He knew what she would say, but just knowing she was willing to put so much faith in him, and herself, warmed him. He grinned hard beneath his mask and only wished she could see it.

"Please place the rings and say, 'With this ring, I do thee wed." The priest requested.

Death pulled his ring out first and carefully slid it onto Ophelia's finger. "With this ring, I do thee wed."

Ophelia laughed wetly as she pulled her ring to him out with the silver chain he had it connected to. He bent down and let her put it over his head. The guests laughed. "With this 'ring', I do thee wed."

"Then by the power invested in me, I declare you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride." The priest closed his book.

The guests murmured to themselves, their curiosity as to how the two would kiss palpable. Death moved his mask to the side, revealing part of his face to the priest, who gaped, and ducked his head down to kiss Ophelia. The guests erupted in applause as they pulled apart. She smiled and pecked him once more before moving his mask back in place for him. He took her hand and led her down from the altar, leading her to his (their) home. When they got to the door, he swept her off her feet with her shrieking with laughter. He opened the door awkwardly and used his foot to close it.

"Welcome home, Lady Death." He murmured, allowing her to remove his mask. She dropped it on the floor and placed her hand on his cheek. She smiled softly.

He took her to their room and set her on the bed, holding himself over her. He bent his head down to kiss her, but something made him pause. His body tensed and he straightened up. Ophelia sat up, looking confused.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

He didn't respond, shuddering when the wavelength washed over him. It was one he hadn't felt in centuries. Just as sudden as he had felt it, however, it vanished.

"Death?" He glanced down at her. She looked concerned now.

He shook his head and settled so he was lying beside her. "It's nothing."

She didn't seemed convinced, but he distracted her with a kiss, pulling her closer. The wavelength returned and this time, it persisted. Death chose to ignore it, persuading himself into believing his false reassurance to Ophelia.

There is no way after all these years she would seek me out. He gently unwound Ophelia's braid, fingering the soft strands as they slipped through his fingers.

She sighed and the wavelength vanished again, this time it didn't return.