(The first and last scenes in italics are flashbacks. Illumi and Psyche are 19 and 17, respectively.)

Chapter 7: The Wedding and The Winter Winds

The Zoldyck's House was expected to have more than its fair share of peculiarities, but the most peculiar facet of all, was Psyche Moiraio stealing forbidden glances of Illumi Zoldyck sitting at the far end of the dining table, situated between Zeno and Anomie who deftly trapped Illumi between their conversation of killers of old and their weapons of novel ingenuity.

Psyche steered her watercress soup in mindless loops of figure eights, marvelously failing to contain her wistful sighs as she watched the eldest son eat dinner. Illumi was so handsome when he cut his bread, and the attention he put into spreading his butter made her heart aflame.

Eros coughed.

Psyche's gaze didn't waver.

Eros coughed harder.

Without averting her gaze, Psyche patted her hand on Eros' back. Saving his life from choking to death on a measly sip of watercress soup, if not soup, then social embarrassment. Which was an even swifter kind of death. Chaotica looked up from her plate, tearing a slice of bread hanging out of her mouth with her teeth. "Eros. Some of us are trying to eat."

"I'll try to be quiet the next time I'm dying to not disturb you."

"Much better." Chaotica took another bite of her bread.

"Damn, I wish I had siblings who listened like yours." Milluki drolled, ignoring Eros's sarcasm. "Anytime I try to tell my brothers to do anything, they ignore me or do the opposite."

Chaotica nodded her head without sympathy, "I can't understand your plight, but you have my sympathy." Which amounted to none unbeknownst to Milluki.

"Killua! Quit kicking me from under the table!" Milluki barked at his little brother, hands slamming on the tablecloth, rattling the utensils and glasses.

Killua leaned further down in his chair and made sure to give a powerful swipe at Milluki's knees. Milluki's whines being his sole fuel.

"Did you just kick me? AGAIN!? AFTER I TOLD YOU NOT—"

Killau answered yes by throwing a knife at Milluki's face. All the while laughing.

Milluki ducked and the knife plummeted towards Gotoh's back. Luckily, without having the need to look back, the butler skillfully caught the knife in mid air with one hand, and proceeded to polish it before handing it back to Killua. Milluki vowed to cut more than butter with that knife. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU."

"Promise?" Milluki's anger boiled over at his brother's blatant disregard for his authority. This seemed to excite Killua as he eagerly jumped out of his chair and prepared to run. No matter the time and no matter the day, he could outrun Milluki and run circles around him too. He looked forward to the endless opportunities to outshine his older brothers. Chaotica smiled as she nibbled on her bread at the prospect of dinner and a show. It wasn't quite dinner without attempted murder with the Zoldycks.

The moment the two boys shot out of their chairs to wreak havoc was the exact moment a force stronger than either of them could ever imagine slam them back down to earth. Their mother. Kikyo wasn't so pleased as she instructed the butlers to take away Killua's place setting and his food. If he wasn't ready to dine with a fork and knife like a gentleman, then he wasn't ready to eat with their guests. Instead, Killua folded his arms across the table and moaned miserably into the empty space laid out before him as Milluki chastised him for being a petulant little kid.

"Watch out when you fall asleep." Killua mumbled under his breath, but all threats of murder, premeditated or spur of the moment slaughter, were all soon forgotten as Alluka broke off bread, piece by piece, and fed them to Killua. He placed one crumb on the table and Killua pecked at it like a chicken, causing the little one to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Kalluto saw this and started ripping his bread too. A bright smile spread on his little face when Killua pecked at his bread crumbs.

Eventually, a napkin was tied around Killua's shoulders. Strapping him to his chair, back straight like an arrow. Because gentlemen do not slouch their shoulders, or peck like wild chickens.

Chaotica sighed, frustrated. "And seriously Eros, if you have something to say to Psyche then just spit it out already and save us all from your melodrama."

Eros's eyes shot daggers at his older sister to whom laid them neatly on her platter and drizzled them generously with salt and pepper before gobbling them up. Ending theatrics of her own, she blew him a kiss.

He looked repulsed, "right in front of my salad?"

Chaotica and Eros choked on laughter.

Psyche blinked. "Oh, what did you want to say to me?"

Eros wanted to tell her he was annoyed. Not with Psyche. Maybe a little. But by the way love transforms the way we look at people. Suddenly, even the most mundane acts of daily living look miraculous through rose tinted spectacles. There was nothing beautiful about Illumi Zoldyck slathering butter on bread. Even a monkey can do that—and better. God, help the blind. Eros tilted his spoon towards the edge of the plate, and then brought it up to his mouth. He wanted to tell Psyche that if she was going to stare at Illumi for so long, she might as well take a picture of him. Then it hit him that the thought of her ogling a picture of him 24/7 made him feel even sicker, so he decided to come up with a lie instead. "You've barely touched your food. Are you sick?"

"I will be if you keep asking." Psyche didn't take her eyes off Illumi. Sighing dreamily in his direction.

"He's not going to look at you if you keep staring at him like that."

Psyche whipped her head at Eros. Her face all crumpled up with a flustered look. She looked at him as if he denounced the sky's blue and the grass's green—and Illumi doesn't like Psyche. Psyche was reading inbetween the lines, well, if she was so keen on interpreting his words then he should write her a book.

Eros took a sip of his soup, absentmindedly, as if the watercress intrigued him more than this conversation despite a stone settling at the bottom of his stomach. The stone being Illumi. "It's a little unnerving. And I'm not even the one being stared at."

Eros expected her to sulk, return to her soup, or refuse even looking at Illumi Zoldyck all together. 'Actually, I was staring at the painting above his head! I think it's Renaissance or baroque.' He thought she would say, but he didn't expect what she would do next.

Defiance.

She reached down into her purse, as if to grab something, but came back empty handed. "I lost my book." Was all she said.

There were many impossible things in the world and one of them was Psyche losing a book. Eros raised an eyebrow, confused. "It's probably where you were last."

"I don't know, we were everywhere today. Maybe it's in the gardens?"

"The ones at the peak of the volcano?" Those were so far away.

"Yeah, but I can't remember how to get there..."

Eros's heart jumped when Illumi looked their way. He was listening to their conversation! But for how long?

"I can take you there." Illumi folded his napkin and got out of his seat before Psyche even had time to reply. Eros thought that Illumi answered too quickly, as if he was lying in wait. Neither of their parents paid any attention to them leaving, but Eros noticed the way Calypsa bit down a smile, blaming the wine for its dizzying spell.

Psyche looked at Eros one last time, with a look that rebuked everything he confessed to her. And left him dumbfounded at the dining table. Eros knew that something changed between the two of them after they disappeared for two days. What happened during that time? Even Psyche herself refuses to tell him and he is her twin, her best friend.

Then he saw it. There. He saw that look in his sister's eyes and where they landed—on that boy with eyes as cold as a mountain stream. It was a bewildering beauty, an affection that is desperately craved, and one that couldn't be denied no matter how profusely one objected. Just as the allure of a cool glass of water on a blistering August day. It was only a matter of time before Psyche reached for the glass.

That's what Illumi was to Eros. He had the pull of a sink-hole. Once you're in his grasp, there is no certainty of escape. That is all he could do for his sister, breathlessly watching as Illumi reached for her and let her sink with him.

Eros considered himself to be more generous than his nature allowed him to be. If Psyche chose Illumi, and if he returned her feelings, then she doomed her own fate. There was no stopping them.

But what kind of brother would Eros be if he let his own sister drown? He placed his spoon down and wiped his lips with a napkin. No longer hungry.

He wouldn't be a good brother at all to let that happen. Now, would he.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who dreamed of getting married. Today, her dream stood right beside her.

The ringing of wedding bells called her name as Psyche knelt down before the altar. With Illumi by her side. He bowed his head down in divine reverence and swore an oath of undying loyalty to Psyche—his wife. Even now, peeking mischievously through her white silk headdress, she couldn't stop stealing forbidden glances from him. When he closed his eyes, there was a look of absolute peace—certainty in his wants and desires. Happiness filling her whole knowing she was a part of them now.

Rays of soft morning light shined on and blessed the bride and groom in a veil of gold. A union that their families and even the heavens smiled favorably on. Psyche, clothed in a traditional white shiromuku, felt as if she stood at the threshold of the beginning of a new life and braced the closure of her past— a door that was just beginning to close for good. A departure well awaited. There was no past more deserving of a good riddance.

Her fingers touched Illumi's, sending a thrill of heat up her arm, as he passed her the cup of sake for her to drink. Their families did the same, forever intertwining them as one family. One faith. One order to forever protect.

There was something different about Psyche's mother that the young bride never encountered before. Calypsa's aura was never more stronger and prouder than todays. Never more pungent in devotion. A force long kept chained and finally unleashed from the rafters and set free to the wind. As if today was the celebration of everything Calypsa worked so hard to obtain ever since the moment she prepared little Psyche from birth to say I do. Psyche caught her mother doing something she's rarely thought she was capable of accomplishing.

Crying.

Calypsa gently patted the end of an embroidered handkerchief at the corners of her eyes. She wore a mauve, silk gown with ruffled edges and lace gloves to match. Anomie and Chaotica wore elegant tea length dresses that flared above the ankles. Both adorned in colors of lavender.

The Zoldycks sat opposite of the Moiraio's. Stoic expressions and not a single tear to be shed came from them. Except, there was Kalluto. Skepticism burrowed deep into his doll-like face with round eyes that he believed had the power to see what the rest of his family could not. He saw the Moiraio's, and Psyche in particular, for what they truly were.

Zifira Zoldyck, wife of Zeno Zoldyck, bowed before the bride and groom before anointing each of them with water from the Ossenoh Valley where the mountains pierce the sky and disappear into the clouds—legends say that the water there is so pure because it holds the last of God's tears when he weeped for humanity at their birth. Illumi, tall as he was, lowered his head for his grandmother to bless him. She drew a mark of prosperity on his forehead. Psyche noticed there was a look of fondness in her eyes as her wrinkled hands blessed her eldest grandchild. She sensed that in her eyes, Illumi was her favorite.

Next was Psyche. Zifira drew a mark on Psyche's forehead and Psyche felt the refreshing cold revitalize her. The old woman came up close to her face and kissed her on the cheek, then whispered into her ear. "Take care of our Illumi."

Always. Psyche felt tears prickle in her eyes. For a moment, Zifira lingered there as if she wanted to say more, but lacked the resolve to say what her heart wished.

It was a shame that two of Illumi's brothers were not here for their wedding, but there was an extra guest. One whose visit was eagerly relished by none other than Calypsa Moiraio herself. An anticipation of her own.

There was a woman in the back of the room, hands folded neatly in her lap and eyes that stung like hot iron on the two families of assassins. This woman, who goes by a name withheld from the public, is serving as a witness of this union and as a representative from the Bureau of Deadmen. An association of assassins. Much like the hunter association, it is an agency that grants protection from governmental authorities for all its members. And the reason Padokea's military hasn't charged down the Zoldyck gates and burned the mountain down to a pile of smoldering ash. Thus was the mutual give and take of Deadmen. Protection in the exchange for being called upon whenever to do the Bureau's bidding. Servitude in exchange for freedom. Ironically.

Through matrimony with the House of Zoldyck the Moiraio Family has now been elevated to the House of Moiraio and joined the deadly ranks of the Bureau of Deadmen.

Finally, Zifira rolled out a scroll both ancient and powerful before the young assassin. There, Psyche could see the names of all the women who came before her. All the women who closed the doors of their past lives to live forever onward as most recent women… Zifira, Kikyo….and now Psyche. As Psyche signed away her name to the House of Zoldyck, a man died.

The butler crashed to the floor, clenching his hands over his heart and succumbed to what looked to be a heart attack. But this was the deepest den of killers and nen users and they knew what they saw. A nen curse took hold over the man and revived his corpse, who was barely dead for a few seconds.

Psyche's eyes widened in horror, recognizing the nen curse she witnessed first hand at the Foile Estate. Do not marry Illumi Zoldyck. She remembered Dezmon Foile's reanimated corpse saying to her. The door to her past refused to stay shut, a gust of wind pried it open for all to see. If her past will not let go of her then she'll cut it off by its hands.

In a swift motion, the butler raised his arms and conjured a javelin–aiming it just right to screw through both the bride and groom.

Psyche stopped thinking, and her body took over. The winter winds shrieked a deafening pitch as an onslaught made claim for the bride and groom.

There was a scream, she wasn't sure whose it belonged to. She and Illumi both tumbled over the altar as the javelin sliced through the air and pierced a stone statue of a dragon, shattering it into hundreds of shards of fractured stone.

Breathing heavily, Psyche laid on top of Illumi. His expression neither changed from before or after the attempted assassination on their lives. Only when the features on his face morphed into surprise was when a drop of blood dripped down onto his cheek.

Psyche put his life above her own to save him. Loyalty. Obedience. Devotion. All the qualities Calypsa promised the Zoldycks of a bride worthy of marrying their son. The failed assassination only cemented Calypsa's resolve of the union. That her daughter's marriage to a Zoldyck was a coveted desire that consumed many obsessive hearts—pure and rotten alike. Same for the Zoldycks, Silva and Kikyo knew they made the right choice.

Psyche looked up at the deadman–the revived corpse. Its hollow white eyes meeting her own. She didn't know what she wanted to do. To hear it speak or silence its voice forever. It opened its mouth to her. A word forming at the tip of his lips.

A part of Psyche shuddered. Fear intertwined with morbid curiosity. However, the winter winds were faster than her as they carried Zifira Zoldyck as if she was a spirit of the air bound to the sky. Psyche knew Illumi's grandmother was a transmuter, her nen taking on the qualities that mimicked the wind, but this was the first time she had ever seen her in action. Her kimono was a flurry of a hybrid of colors as she descended upon the butler faster than anyone bound to earth could. Before Psyche could even see Zifira attack, the deadman dropped down to his knees, and a perfect line of red appeared on his throat. Zifira does not stand those who attempt to harm her family.

Chaotica's jaw dropped and she whispered to Anomie. "I think I love her."

Anomie nodded back. "Oh yeah."

The butler was put down quickly, but the rest of the butlers were stunned and scared that another one of them could soon easily drop dead and resurrect themselves to kill their masters. Moments of silence passed, what seemed to be an eternity, and all remained alive.

The soles of Zifira's shoes clicked against the tiles. She raised her head to both families, and smiled. "Now that this little nuisance is taken care of, let's continue the ceremony."

Illumi and Psyche descended further into the Mountain. She followed him like she was his shadow, never ten steps out of sight. The Gardens Psyche spoke of were located at the top of the Mountain hovering between the boundaries of sky and a dormant volcano lying in wait.

Yet deeper and deeper they descended and she did not question where he was taking her. Further away from fresh air and blue skies and deeper into the dark unknown. A chill raced down her spine with a prickling tremor, but it wasn't from the cold.

They turned a corridor, passing by a line of portraits hanging on the walls illuminated with the faint glow of silver lights. Members of the House of Zoldyck, those no longer walking the earth and those still making their mark on it. Presence and words and claws and all.

A thought, more rebellious than she ever allowed herself to think, settled in her mind. She would like her portrait to hang on these walls.

She looked up and saw his back, still following him. The curves of his muscles peeking through his shirt.

A blush caressed her cheeks. She would like hers to be next to his.

Illumi stopped in front of a room, and turned the knob revealing a chamber trapped in darkness. Psyche peeked her head around him to see if there was anything in there. Until Illumi grabbed her by the arm and pulled her inside. Shutting the door behind them.

Psyche waited for this all day. For him.

Illumi wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. Pinning her against his chest and the wall. No other place Psyche wished to be. He kissed her. More than once. More than twice. He was greedy for more than she could ever give him. Though she would damn herself if she didn't try.

He forced himself to pull his lips away from hers–as if denying himself another morsel of paradise–-Unlike Psyche, who failed at denying herself indulgences. She leaned forward to kiss him, combing her fingers through his hair and pulling him back towards her. Every order in his mind barked at him to withstand her pull came crashing down the moment she made him hers. Her lips casting a spell on his. He kissed her feverishly. Impulsively. Surrendering to his primal nature without any care of restraint.

"We don't have–" Illumi said between broken breaths–between kisses. "-much time."

"Then we'll have to do this again."

He was willing to give into her demands. Then a thought too late popped into his mind. "I'm supposed to be helping you find your book. Where did you lose it?"

Psyche placed a hand over his chest and looked him in the eyes. "I never lose my books."

An impish smile played on his mouth as he traced his thumb over the curve of a liar's lips. Slowly feeling every soft spot of her sumptuous pink lips, feeling her breath tremble as he slid his thumb slowly between them, "don't make lying a habit on my behalf to get what you want."

Heat flushed her skin to a scolding hue as she sucked on his thumb. Slowly and tentatively and deliberately. Making his knees buckle when she was done, telling him without words that there is more she can do for him. And that she isn't the only one wanting here.

Every second of talking was a wasted second of fulfilling either of their wants. They sank into each other. And then to the floor. Illumi's skin was searing hot and Psyche could feel his heat piercing through her clothes. The cold floor was an instant relief, only to smolder when he loomed over her, trapping her beneath him. The hunger in his eyes grew ravenous as his eyes drew silhouettes outlining the curves of her body. Where to caress, where to hold on to, where to sink his teeth into.

Illumi licked his bottom lip with his tongue, plump and red and moist.

Psyche's breath hitched.

"Lift up your dress."

Thank you for reading chapter 7! I tried to do things differently with this chapter, writing wise. And it's shorter too, so i hope it was okay XD Tell me what you thought :D The real zoldyck grandmother hasn't been revealed yet in the manga, so she's now my OC XD Eros made his first appearance in the flashback and THE WEDDING IS HERE. FINALLY! If you were wondering why Psyche was thirsty for Illumi in the previous chapter, then here's your answer LOL Psyche's infatuation with Illumi is based off more than just her books :3 What truly happened when they disappeared for two days and is Illumi being honest with his feelings? You (and i) will find out in the next chapter :D jk jk i already know and i can't wait to reveal it. Oh, and Illumi's a dick-

*COUGHS*

Thank you for reading! Please review and bye!