The Marriage of House Ebonne and the House of Fire

[Frostwander]

OOC Expectations: Introductions and arrivals, early roleplay and interactions, even simple notes of who is attending, are welcome! I expect to post details of the ceremony within the next couple days, and most of the roleplay to take place after during the reception and multi-day celebration to follow.

 

Guests coming via ocean journey are received at Altair Oceanport, while those coming via aircraft or space vessel are landed at Port Teralle in the capital of Verglass. Those who arrive early are accommodated in lavish guest quarters in high-rises near the peaks of the crystal shelves - the venue itself does not have sufficient quarters for all the Elect invited. Comfortable hover-coaches the attendees the twenty klicks to the grand country estate of the d'Laforet family. The colourful vineyards that stretch to the horizon, usually the main allure, now serve primarily as a backdrop to the upcoming ceremony.

The main courtyard of the estate is decorated in broad banners of black, red, and gold, with the three-sided outer walls adorned by trellises of climbing foxgloves and hyssops in yellow and purple. Seats have been arranged carefully in three sets of rows, leaving two aisles between leading from the entrance to a raised stage and a slender podium of transparent crystal. Places for immediate family are at the forefront, and each visiting delegate or group is carefully spaced to minimize proximity of any polities with known animosity between them. Each visiting factions seats are also sized appropriately for members of the representative race.

Flanking the podium at the head of each aisle are a pair of tall banners hanging from hovering drones. From the left hangs the Caipe Ushere flag, above the black serpent Ebonne heraldry. On the right, the single black-and-red emblem of the House of Fire. Both stand tall and unwavering despite the occasional gentle breeze. While an arching set of dome-projectors drift high above in case of inclement weather, they are currently inactive and the bright light of Ophon carries in filtered only by a sparse wispy clouds.

On one side of the estate wide double doors lead into an interior set for the reception celebration, with fleeting glimpses during the preparation showing a hall decorated in similar colors, lit by hovering chandeliers with hundreds of colored candleflames. Tables are set with many and varied refreshments, as well as an entire wall set with glinting bottles of the family's famed vintages.

Each delegation is met and welcomed Queen Chalise Ebonne, dressed as usual in an extravagant solid black dress, a single concession of colour in the form of one yellow foxglove blossom pinned over her heart.

[Kythia]

The representative from Coedd and their Arkhive translator, in this case a native of Port Teralle named Eloise, arrived by boat a couple of days before the main event but spent some time speaking with the Coedd cultists in the area, not arriving at the reception until the day itself.  As the two walk in - Eloise is a shade over six foot and easily able to outpace Coedd if she wished but remains a pace behind per protocol - the chemical analyser around her neck beeps.  She consults it briefly then gives a curtsey to Queen Ebonne.

“Coedd greets you and thanks you for your invite, your Majesty” she says after a brief pause.  There were two distinct camps in the Arkhive’s linguists when it came to Coedd communication - one camp felt that Coedd’s words should be given as far as possible a literal translation with additional clarification being given by the interpreter, the other felt the sense of Coedd’s words should be conveyed without overly worrying about the literal translation.  Anyone fluent in reading the chemical signatures who happened to peek at the analyser would see a more literal translation would be Coedd acknowledges meat and be left with no doubt which camp Eloise fell in to.

While, to no one’s great surprise, Coedd hadn’t RSVPd it was broadly felt that a representative would be sent and appropriate “seating” had been provided.  The wooden body didn’t bend easily and the seat was actually a gap in the seating in which Coedd could stand, with a nearby one for the expected translator.  And stand in it Coedd did.  There are probably no beings on Sansar as incredibly talented at standing motionless for long periods as Coedd and, until and unless interacted with, that is precisely what she does.

Eloise does her best but, even sat down, no mere meat can compete with Coedd in a “not doing anything” contest and soon she begins looking round, mentally counting various things (chairs, windows, flowers, anything) and making a tune by clicking her tongue while beating out a soft rhythm on her knee.

[EmBark]

Princess Tiyansi had been looking forward to visiting Sansar ever since her visit to Veehra went incredibly well. Barely out of her teens, she half-wondered if she'd receive applause from royalty again by showing off her magic. Daydreams and youthful pride would have to wait however, as her ship landed at Port Teralle. Tiyansi had even been declined the opportunity to just fly down herself. Ridiculous! Everything went too slow for her, but such was the pace of decorum and high diplomacy. At least the guest quarters provided by House Ebonne were magnificent and she couldn't think of even the snobbiest aristocrat finding fault in them. The time between her arrival and the wedding she could spend with exploring the city and local environment, which she'd gladly made use of.

Princess Tiyansi was short for a llort, standing midway between five and six imperial feet tall, with deep dark red skin, a thin but very long tail, two rows of small curved black horns, and silvery eyes and glow from her horns. For the momentous occasion of a fellow Mekhalan royal's off-world marriage, she had opted for a dark Ophonic yellow cloth dress with wide pleats down to her calves, a short black jacket woven from the darkest crystal weave, high-heeled black shoes and thin black gloves with a silver ring on one thumb.

Now entering the courtyard of the estate of the d'Laforet family, accompanied by only four attendants, Tiyansi had felt no need to go slow to get to the event. She floated a few imperial inches off the ground and forward at the speed of a brisk walk. She slowed down for others and when she looked around at all the decorations. It took some effort not to outright gawk and she thanked her imperial scholars and Mekhalan etiquette teachers internally.

She lands while Queen Chalise Ebonne is still speaking to someone ahead of her, waits patiently--maybe listens in a bit--and then approaches with grace. She curtseys in front of her.

"Hail and greetings, Queen Chalise of House Ebonne. Emperor's blessings upon you and yours and this union above all. The Llort Society Protectorate sends its brightest regards."

[bc_56]

Far be it from the dwarves to miss a party, especially in the midst of wine country. A delegation has arrived from the Central Claims, dressed in their best spacesuits (polished until the metal shines and the dirt and grime is almost completely washed off the fabric) and happily sampling the best vintages Caipe Ushere has to offer.

 

The famed star racer Lewis Norris is here, promoting the growing number of Mekhalan racing circuits. He may not have won the Mad Dash, but second's still pretty good and no one will ever forget his impressive handling of Khylokian raiders on the track; smashing and ramming his way through so effectively that he cleared that section in record time.

Their leader, the Chief Executive himself, however, is looking for the representatives of the House of Fire. He has a business proposition to make. A glass of wine in his hand, and a tie worn over his spacesuit, Hammond Durham looks the very picture of a suave businessdwarf.

[TheDarkDM]

Duke Esarhaddon III of the House of Fire and his Duchess Ana-Tashmetum-taklak stood opposite and apart from Queen Chalise, respecting their imminent relation's sovereignty but secure in their partnership. The Duke was resplendent once more in the full ceremonial regalia of his office, crimson robes spilling down like a waterfall to pool in a triangular train at his feet. Standing beneath the sunlight that had birthed humanity his green eyes and his wife's amber were indistinguishable from the Usherets surrounding them, save for the startling mirror sheen of their pupils. Ana-Tashmetum-taklak was dressed to match her husband for the festive occasion, her crimson gown cut conservatively with clever seams allowing an underlayer of onyx crystal weave to shine through. Both nobles of the House of Fire wore simple ornaments in gold to complement their ensembles, matching circlets of fractal patterns reminiscent of fire in zero-g, the linked sunburst chain of office around the Duke's shoulders mirrored in a waterfall necklace of diamond stars and Ophonic sunbursts shrouding the Duchess' reserved décolletage.

High in orbit, the black needle of the Ducal Yacht was visible in the sunlight, poised to be the centerpiece of the unprecedented fireworks display planned for the climax of the festivities. There too waited the sister of the groom, as the Lady of Fire Naqi'a prepped for a joint flyover of Ducal and Ebonne fighters to celebrate the union of two orbits. Nearer their parents but already ensconced in his assigned seat is the youngest child of the House of Fire, Lord of Fire Akiya IV, just recently grown to manhood but uncertain of these new surroundings in his seventeen-year-old awkwardness. Still, he cut a dashing enough figure from afar in his fleet dress uniform. The groom himself was secluded in silent contemplation as was the House of Fire's tradition, and would emerge to walk the long aisle alongside his bride.

[Frostwander]

On 2/26/2024 at 4:29 AM, Kythia said:

“Coedd greets you and thanks you for your invite, your Majesty” she says after a brief pause.  There were two distinct camps in the Arkhive’s linguists when it came to Coedd communication - one camp felt that Coedd’s words should be given as far as possible a literal translation with additional clarification being given by the interpreter, the other felt the sense of Coedd’s words should be conveyed without overly worrying about the literal translation.  Anyone fluent in reading the chemical signatures who happened to peek at the analyser would see a more literal translation would be Coedd acknowledges meat and be left with no doubt which camp Eloise fell in to.

...

Eloise does her best but, even sat down, no mere meat can compete with Coedd in a “not doing anything” contest and soon she begins looking round, mentally counting various things (chairs, windows, flowers, anything) and making a tune by clicking her tongue while beating out a soft rhythm on her knee.

Queen Chalise is familiar with Coedd and has encountered translators of the former variety. She offers a sincere smile up at Coedd and the taller woman, clearly appreciating the additional decorum. "Coedd and you are welcome, and we are glad to have you here. Thank you for coming." She allows the attendant to show them to their seats.

As Eloise finds herself fidgeting and looking around, her eye is caught across the seating by Princet Talouse, today adorned in a floor-length purple dress. Their own fingers are twined around a small purple bow at their side, constantly fastening and unfastening it, and they give an understanding smile.

 

On 2/26/2024 at 6:38 AM, EmBark said:

Now entering the courtyard of the estate of the d'Laforet family, accompanied by only four attendants, Tiyansi had felt no need to go slow to get to the event. She floated a few imperial inches off the ground and forward at the speed of a brisk walk. She slowed down for others and when she looked around at all the decorations. It took some effort not to outright gawk and she thanked her imperial scholars and Mekhalan etiquette teachers internally.

She lands while Queen Chalise Ebonne is still speaking to someone ahead of her, waits patiently--maybe listens in a bit--and then approaches with grace. She curtseys in front of her.

"Hail and greetings, Queen Chalise of House Ebonne. Emperor's blessings upon you and yours and this union above all. The Llort Society Protectorate sends its brightest regards."

The queen smiles warmly, giving a polite nod in return to the curtsey. "Emperor's blessings upon you and yours as well, Princess Tiyansi. We are pleased that you have come. We hope you have found your time in our city pleasant, and will convey our warm regards back with you."

 

On 2/26/2024 at 5:52 PM, bc_56 said:

Far be it from the dwarves to miss a party, especially in the midst of wine country. A delegation has arrived from the Central Claims, dressed in their best spacesuits (polished until the metal shines and the dirt and grime is almost completely washed off the fabric) and happily sampling the best vintages Caipe Ushere has to offer.

The famed star racer Lewis Norris is here, promoting the growing number of Mekhalan racing circuits. He may not have won the Mad Dash, but second's still pretty good and no one will ever forget his impressive handling of Khylokian raiders on the track; smashing and ramming his way through so effectively that he cleared that section in record time.

Their leader, the Chief Executive himself, however, is looking for the representatives of the House of Fire. He has a business proposition to make. A glass of wine in his hand, and a tie worn over his spacesuit, Hammond Durham looks the very picture of a suave businessdwarf.

The Chief Executive and his entourage are welcomed in kind. While they are shown initially to their seats, there is still some time if they wish to approach the Duke and Duchess ahead of the ceremony, though there will be ample opportunities later during the reception and celebration.

 

5 hours ago, TheDarkDM said:

High in orbit, the black needle of the Ducal Yacht was visible in the sunlight, poised to be the centerpiece of the unprecedented fireworks display planned for the climax of the festivities. There too waited the sister of the groom, as the Lady of Fire Naqi'a prepped for a joint flyover of Ducal and Ebonne fighters to celebrate the union of two orbits. Nearer their parents but already ensconced in his assigned seat is the youngest child of the House of Fire, Lord of Fire Akiya IV, just recently grown to manhood but uncertain of these new surroundings in his seventeen-year-old awkwardness. Still, he cut a dashing enough figure from afar in his fleet dress uniform. The groom himself was secluded in silent contemplation as was the House of Fire's tradition, and would emerge to walk the long aisle alongside his bride.

Nearby to Akiya IV stands Princet Geal Talouse Ebonne d'Laforét. The youngest scion of House Ebonne stands an average height, with a slender build, and a soft face with keen brown eyes. Shoulder-length black hair is adorned with sparkling golden threads. They sway slightly in place, draped in a sleeveless purple dress that just barely avoids dragging the floor, decorated with small ribbons along the waist, with sparkling puffs at the shoulders and intricate beadwork paneling down the bodice front. Excited at the presence of another their own age among this gathering of largely older dignitaries, they have quickly gravitated to their future sibling-in-law, conversing quietly but animatedly as they get to know each other.

[Elemental]

Given there was nothing happening on Veehra to keep him otherwise engaged the High King of Ishtahnos had elected to personally lead the delegation to attend what was shaping up to the wedding of the century. Due to the heat of Sansar he had chosen a light grey suit and waistcoat with golden buttons and a rust red neckerchief and had forgone a coat in favour of a rust red cape of some light fabric with a golden border. As usual he wore the heavy golden chain of his office from which hung a bejewelled sunburst pendant which glittered in the intense Sansarite sunlight and atop his long, wavy black hair he wore a platinum crown set with gleaming rubies. At his waist was belted a sword with a gilded hilt with a single large sapphire set into the pommel.

For this momentous occasion he was accompanied by two of his three children, his second son Prince Lucas and his daughter Princess Janice, Minister Sanders of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and, as usual, Ira his loyal bodyguard who was in lupine form and stoically suffering in silence as his thick black fur refused to shed any heat.

Prince Lucas wore the dress uniform of a lieutenant junior grade of the Royal Navy of Ishtahnos, though it's clear he's unused to the weight of the uniform and the black fabric is not suited to the Sansarite sunlight. Princess Janice meanwhile was resplendent in a long gown of pale purple silk subtly embellished with silver threads and her long black hair was elegantly braided with matching ribbons. As crowns are not part of the naval uniform only the Princess wore one, a silver coronet set with pale purple sapphires, amethysts and pink freshwater pearls. Both were, however, armed with a sword and dagger each.

Minister Sanders seems to have decided to wear the most boring outfit possible, looking more like an accountant than a diplomat.

They approached to a respectful distance once it was their turn to greet the Queen of Ushere. John gave a polite nod of his head as the rest of his party, minus Ira, bowed respectfully. "Chalise, it is an honour to be invited to this happy occasion. The people of Ishtahnos wish the happy couple to be a long life filled with love even in the face of adversity," he says with a genuine smile, "Please accept the apologies of my wife Isolde. Our eldest is conducting the Rites of Kingship and he needs her guidance, guidance she cannot provide through a communicator."

Note for those interested: As of 2040, Prince Lucas is twenty-one and Princess Janice is eighteen.

[Rolepgeek]

Having arrived well before most other members of the Elect, Jié Měifēng and Guiding_Stars4 lounged against a railing, chatting to one another and to those she'd brought with her as they watched the other guests to arrive. While garb among the pirates often varied and formal wear had always been communicated more by style trends than by any real dress code, the pirate queen had still chosen to wear a long and flaring scarlet dress with a gold pattern that, upon close inspection, would show itself to be that of a snake-like dragon intertwining with a string of flowers known as 'angel trumpets' that Měifēng had learned about from Queen Chalise Ebonne, who had been kind enough as to personally educate the pirate on Sansarite flora.

Like all her dresses, this one was sleeveless and showed off the captain's cybernetically augmented arms, shoulders, and back, for which her usual chrome muscle-plating had been changed out for an alloy of iridescent black, complementing the obsidian black of her eyes and the rainbow flow that seeped through them. Around her neck she wore an elegant necklace with a silver pendant curled over a cloudy green gemstone that stood out all the more for being the only hint of such a color on her person. Even the dim glow of multicolored bleedtats sprawling out from Guiding_Stars4's hardcase at the base of her skull, only just visible beneath her skin as they traced her less immediately obvious augments, were more of a shifting neon indigo than anything else.

Of her entourage, only one did not already have a drink to hand - her nephew, Jié Cāishēng, wearing an outfit somewhere between a tailcoat and the most up to date fashion of Coalition streetwear. It did fit him very well, at least, though he still looked less than comfortable. The young man also appeared to have a remarkably low number of visible prosthetics for a Coalition pirate, outside of the hardcase for his PEEARIT (brassium-plated) - itself hidden by a mop of hair carefully styled to look like it hadn't been styled (jet black) - and even remained in possession of his own original, self-grown eyes (soft blue), though the boy still had the telltale gas-mask indents on his face that marked him out as a Badalian native.

The pirate captain's eyes lingered on the Queen, perfectly content to watch her maneuver through guests with as much grace and finesse as one could ask of the finest vibro-duelist. This was enjoyable for Měifēng, but it was Chalise's element, and it was a joy to watch a master at work, as ever, even in something as mundane as greeting guests for a wedding.

Edited February 28 by Rolepgeek (see edit history)

[The Snark]

Close to a decade after being named to the Elect, the Castaways of the Loop have at last mustered a proper diplomatic corps and begun to reach offworld. For a wedding between two of their fellow Elect, the Group of Seventeen have sent two of their own number: a pair of women in their middle years, arms linked, one brown-haired and the other black. Where previous Castaway envoys have been garbed in austere pseudo-uniforms - the product of a nation which has little time or resources to spare on textile luxuries - these two are wearing formal gowns; understated compared to many of the others at the reception, perhaps, but not out of place. Speaker Sadie 27425 is wearing a floor-length black dress, multilayered fabrics draped in a spiral pattern down her body. Her partner Mary-Anne (identically numbered and titled) is dressed in asymmetrical chrome, one shoulder bare, knee-length on the right but flaring out to a trailing point on the left. Both are veiled, in accordance with Veehran sensibilities; in accordance with Sansar's mild and dust-free climate, the veils are translucent and cover only the lower half of the face.

The pair bow in unison as they greet the parents of the bride. "Your Majesty. The Group of Seventeen sends congratulations and blessings; we hope the bonds forged between your nations are lasting, and that your children find joy in each other. And on a more personal note, thank you for inviting us to share in this celebration. Your homeland is lovely, and we're very much enjoying the chance to visit."

[Frostwander]

12 hours ago, Elemental said:

They approached to a respectful distance once it was their turn to greet the Queen of Ushere. John gave a polite nod of his head as the rest of his party, minus Ira, bowed respectfully. "Chalise, it is an honour to be invited to this happy occasion. The people of Ishtahnos wish the happy couple to be a long life filled with love even in the face of adversity," he says with a genuine smile, "Please accept the apologies of my wife Isolde. Our eldest is conducting the Rites of Kingship and he needs her guidance, guidance she cannot provide through a communicator."

The Usheret queen nodded in return to the Ishtahnos' king, greeting as an equal, a pleasant smile on her face. "John, I'm so glad you could make it. We are pleased to have you all here, and do hope you'll carry our warm regards back home to your wife and eldest. No apology is needed, we quite understand what a mother does for her children."

9 hours ago, Rolepgeek said:

The pirate captain's eyes lingered on the Queen, perfectly content to watch her maneuver through guests with as much grace and finesse as one could ask of the finest vibro-duelist. This was enjoyable for Měifēng, but it was Chalise's element, and it was a joy to watch a master at work, as ever, even in something as mundane as greeting guests for a wedding.

The receiving line was long and sometimes involved, and the queen welcomed each and every one. Měifēng had been welcomed earlier, and while foreign guests were still housed at the extravagant guest quarters in Verglass, was one of few outsiders who had been to the d'Laforet estate before the day of the ceremony. In between exchanges with attendees Chalise took a moment to glance across at the pirate captain, and for a brief moment her smile became a little more self-satisfied.

2 hours ago, The Snark said:

The pair bow in unison as they greet the parents of the bride. "Your Majesty. The Group of Seventeen sends congratulations and blessings; we hope the bonds forged between your nations are lasting, and that your children find joy in each other. And on a more personal note, thank you for inviting us to share in this celebration. Your homeland is lovely, and we're very much enjoying the chance to visit."

"Speakers, we thank you for attending, and for your kind words. We are pleased you find our country pleasant, and hope you will find our celebrations equally so."

[Frostwander]

Archmage Zabir, Highpriest of the Ophonic Mysteries, stepped out from the central door of the estate building and wordlessly took his place behind the podium as a signal to the attendees that the ceremony was to begin. As attendees took their seats, unobtrusive holographic displays lit at each seat which would provide context about the traditions being performed throughout the ceremony.

A single chime sounded from the back of the assembled crowd, and as they turned to look the Lord of Fire Artavasdes II emerged from isolation shrouded in black. The voluminous cloak hid his severe suit of red and black, and would be discarded when the vows were exchanged and their shared light banished darkness. He was a tall man, even for a scion of the House of Fire, and his mother’s eyes gave him an uncanny mien as he marched down the aisle. Here, the cloak served an additional purpose - preserving his dignity as he struggled to maintain grace and poise against the uncommonly high gravity. Unusually for a member of the Ducal family, his head was bare of any ornamentation, the only mark upon him the painted circle of the House blazoned on his forehead.

Once Artavasdes reached the podium and turned to face the attendees, a chime sounded again from the other aisle as Princess Monite Ebonne made her entrance. She wore an off-shoulder dress in gold satin, puffed sleeves, with a bodice brocaded with foxgloves flowing down to a v-point at her waist draped by a belt of chain links. Below the waist the dress flared in a ballgown shape to just above her ankles, a wide hem of brocade surrounding the base. Her long dark hair was curled into loose ringlets intertwined with yellow foxglove blossoms, one loose curl draped artfully over her shoulder. She stepped gracefully, slowly, down the aisle, giving everyone plenty of time to stare.

Artavasdes and Monite gave a bow and curtsey to the archmage, then turned to face each other, angled out to give the audience full view. Zabir lifted his hands and unfolded them, revealing a single large chain link with a gap. “We come together today to witness the forging of a new union.” The participants each lifted the open end of the chains at their belts as the Archmage held out the link between them. “Forging the tether is an ancient tradition amongst the voidfarers of Tekhum. Spacewalks are common for work and leisure in the great void, but outside those divine ships only a simple chain makes sure you come back. It is your anchor and lifeline. Without it you will surely be lost.” Princess Monite accepted the link and, holding it aloft between her fingers, whispered a string of words. The ends of the link begin to glow, heated gently from dull grey to a warm orange, bright yellow, then nearly to incandescent white at the open tips. The couple brought their chains together and connected them with the heated link.  Lord of Fire Artavasdes II crimped the link closed, completing the chain. The archmage continued, “And so these two now choose to tether to each other with that same promise of security and constancy.”

The Archmage gestured to them together, and as the now single chain began to cool, the two looked into each others’ eyes as they spoke in unison: 

“Our souls are fed by fire
From the glow of Ophon to the spark of the stars, it surrounds and binds us
I vow to be your fire
To warm you in the cold void
To sear away your sorrows
To banish darkness
I vow to blaze with you in binary union
And that our love shall burn until the stars go cold.”

After their voices faded into a respectful silent moment, Archmage Zabir next pulled from the podium a small stack of silver coins. Stepping to one side of the stage, he handed two of the coins each to the duke and duchess, then crossed to hand two each to the queen and princet opposite them. Finally he turned back to the couple at the center, and placed one coin in each of their outer hands, and one in the hands between them. The lord and the princess laced their fingers together and pressed their palms to hold the coin between them. “We present these coins, in the wish of prosperity for these two families and this couple brought together.”

Finally the priest produced two crownlike laurels of woven vines and blossoms. Placing one upon the head of each, he intoned, “And now, joined together in iron, oath, and prosperity, I proclaim you wed.”

Monite and Artavasdes stepped close together, fingers still interlocked, and kissed.

---

But a short time later the guests relocated to the interior hall to begin the celebrations with wine, food, and entertainments to come. A fanfare of brass and strings began as the bride and groom entered, Archmage Zabir announcing them, “I present to you all, Lord Artavasdes II Ebonne and Princess Monite Akari Ebonne d’Laforét, Lady of Fire.” 

[moossabi]

Timebubble: Arrival

With the movers and shakers of their infamously militaristic government otherwise indisposed, the attendants from Verdalfheim are a very odd duo indeed. Carried to the event by a private jet, Hekla dei Fiori disembarks from its ramp alongside a face wholly new to the international theater: her younger sister Lilja. The two are inseparable throughout the duration of their stay leading up to the event, the blind royal and her crippled escort comprising a rather pathetic sight for any who would deign to stare. Truth be told, they had little business this far across the globe, no prior ties to any of the hosts or guests, but in the wake of the familial disaster created by the loss of Eydis the elder sister believed that the pair could benefit from the change of pace. Much of the days prior are spent visiting random theater shows, protected by a handful of Verdalf guards who maintain a close watch while keeping their distance.

On the day of the festivities, however, the guards are left behind as the pale elves make their way to the ceremony. Owing to the fact that neither is a head of state, their finery is distinctly less ostentatious than the most extravagant parties, their rank-distinguishing jewelry limited to silver circlets with varyingly-incorporated emeralds that accentuate their braided hair. Hekla, permanently seated in her automatic wheelchair, dresses conservatively in a maroon dress shirt with a high collar, punctuated by a pastel yellow cravat while the lower half of her body is hidden beneath a blue plaid quilt. Lilja, conversely, bears a much more open outfit, the centerpiece of which is a jeweled gorget supporting a high-cropped maroon top beneath a long, thin yellow cloak. Her lower body is similarly open to the breeze, bearing a maroon skirt which reaches beneath the knees. Perhaps all this is a way to distract from her true defining feature: the cloudy milk of her eyes, resting behind lazy lids whose use is clearly obsolete. Whenever the two move, Lilja is at her sister's arm, walking stick clutched tightly in the other hand, fully dependent upon Hekla for the necessities of navigation.

The two are sure to be courteous to both Queen and Duke upon their arrival, nodding their heads in deference (though Lilja is able to perform a more complete, if awkwardly balanced, bow). The eldest of the two handles introductions, Hekla's words flowing easily from a calmly serene visage. "It is a pleasure to meet you both, your graces. Prince Isak of Verdalfheim would like to extend his heartiest congratulations on the union of your houses, though he was unable to attend in person." A ghost of a frown dances across Lilja's downturned face at these words, though Hekla continues as if nothing happened, gesturing to herself as she launches into an introduction. "I am Hekla dei Fiori, a dynast of Verdalfheim, and this-" she gestures to Lilja- "is my youngest sister, Lilja. I hope our... particular conditions will not be too cumbersome upon these proceedings."

Lilja amends a brief "-and I hope that Sansar isn't too uncomfortable of an environment for you, your grace." Despite obviously intending to address the Duke, she faces in the direction of Queen Chalise while talking, a development which causes a visible wince in Hekla's otherwise-unfazed demeanor.

The Reception

Having taken their appropriate seats throughout the ceremony and observed the expectations of applause or silent reverence as ordained by the holo-display (Lilja simply doing whatever she can hear her sister doing at any moment), the Fiorid siblings are model audience members and wait for much of the room to empty before making their way to the reception venue, stopping by their hover-coach to retrieve the wedding present: a bundled flower vase bearing a rainbow assortment of different blooms. The two keep to themselves in a back corner of the hall, foregoing the Usherites' legendary local wines in favor of their own vintage red from Verdalfheim. Though Lilja simply angles her head towards the floor, pointed ears picking out bits and pieces of stray conversation, Hekla makes an effort to survey the room. King John of Ishtahn receives more than a couple scrutinizing looks, though never long enough for eye contact to form (though the Fiorid duo would be hard to miss). In truth, though, she is far more focused on picking out the Imperial dignitaries from the crowd, an objective which seems to elude her ability to affect, and one which is interrupted by the reintroduction of the newlywed couple.

Likely not the first in line to do so, owing to her poor mobility and the throng of people, Hekla leaves Lilja to her corner to meet the couple and offer them her humble gift. "Congratulations are in order for such a personal achievement. I'm Hekla dei Fiori, obviously we've never met before now, but your ceremony was greatly moving all the same." She proceeds to carefully unwrap the vase at the bottom of the bouquet, revealing an hourglass-shaped urn ornamented with brass strands so ornately woven that they could have been tiny creeping vines themselves. "The flowers are a personal selection of mine, some of the most pristine features of the Radicefst gardens. They'll keep for as long as they have water, and should it strike your fancy you will be welcomed in Verdalfheim as honored guests should you seek a different composition." She shrugs casually, the softness of her smile somehow making even the redness of her eyes seem unthreatening. "Or it could simply be a vacation sometime. Either way, you will be welcomed in my family's lands with open arms."

Visual aids for Hekla and Lilja

(Produced in Heroforge because I have no artistic talent)

[Kythia]

My Lord, your Highness. Eloise curtsies to each in turn, while the Avatar of Coedd stands next to her, inscrutable. That was simply lovely and Coedd thanks you again or extending an invite. It has prepared these these is apparently a small fibrous bag which she hands to a hovering courtier as a visual reminder of the union of your houses. If I may, we have prepared holovids to show what they'll look like when they grow a small dataslate is handed to the same courtier showing grapevines bearing large, sweet looking grapes interspersed with flowers in the Imperial Red of the House of Fire. They will grow in Sansar and I'm assured they are hardy enough to survive the trip to Mekhala and to grow there, though they do require water.

Her machine beeps and she glances at it, flicking her eyebrows in momentary surprise. Coedd hopes your union will be fruitful.

She curtsies again and, after listening to any reply backs away, the bag is found to contain large hard seeds which any analysis of will show grow into the plants seen in the holovid

Edited March 6 by Kythia (see edit history)

[volthawk]

While the leaders of the Eilif Dhaoine government could not make it to the wedding given certain political commitments, the pair that arrive at the wedding to represent the country do have titles of a sort - that of knights of Eilif Dhaoine. It's a very recent institution, they explain to anyone who challenges them, or at least this whole thing of making it official with titles and formalised government positions is - even before then, they still had the distinction and honour of being Clagath's right and left hands. Indeed, those who made it into the VIP platform during the Mekhala Mad Dash may well recognise these two - the pair that had accompanied and protected Clagath as he spectated the race. Here, they introduce themselves by name - Eighbris, the man who had attended the Mad Dash in shimmering sgaith-loinn and today picked a differently-coloured (yellow, this time) but similarly flashy outfit, and Cagairmòr, the tall woman that had previously worn practical sealga gear but today had been convinced to leave the gear and trophies at home and also wear sgaith-loinn, clearly a little unsure about wearing the purple longcoat.

This whole thing is...a little outside of the norm for them, but nonetheless they try their best to put in a good showing for the Dhaoine, politely accepting the Queen's welcome and taking their seats to watch the wedding unfold. In the reception, Eighbris takes an opportunity to talk to the couple when the opportunity presents itself. "Congratulations are in order. Good ceremony - it's funny how many similar elements crop up in these kinds of things, despite the time and physical distance all our countries have had until recently, isn't it? But I digress. I'm Eighbris, one of Eilif Dhaoine's knights, and...well, our gift is already with your people - the way the Dhaoine see it, it is important that a couple is able to protecy each other in times of physical peril just as much as in times of social strife or emotional uncertainty, so our gift is a matched pair of chitincraft weapons, one for each of you. Naturally, security had concerns about us coming to the ceremony and reception so armed, so they'll be waiting for you when all this is over."

[TheDarkDM]

The Wedding

The parents of three children, both Duke and Duchess lapse into indulgent smiles at Lilja's compounding faux pas. Perhaps it was different in distant Verdalfheim, but no subject of the Duke would have dreamed of doing him the insult of questioning his strength and fitness.

"Indeed, my good cousin Queen Chalise's hospitality is like to rival the Emperor's."

The insult dismissed and disarmed with a compliment towards their host. Touching her husband's arm, Ana-Tashmetum-taklak leaned forward.

"Please, take your ease as we celebrate our two intertwining dynasties. Their is no burden in true friendship."

 

The Reception

Having shed the inky shroud of his ceremonial cloak, Artavasdes II sat resplendent in his sharp-angled red uniform, the geometric gold brocade crawling its sleeves and hem a twining match to Monite's satin and foxgloves. His amber eyes alive in the strange, biomechanical rhythm of the House of Fire, narrowing and expanding far more actively than those found among natives on Sansar. It was almost enough to cover the dilation every time his gaze passed over Monite, the hitched excitement for this moment finally come. He nodded his welcome to the Fiori delegation, expertly covering his surprise that such disabilities had been allowed to scar the high nobility in this age of gene therapy and cybernetic prostheses. Wheelchairs were archaic curiosities on Dur-Shalkhir.

"Thank you for your generous invitation, Lady Hekla, and for your lovely gift. Dur-Shalkhir would be glad to host you and your sister should you ever find yourself in the outer orbits."

Beneath the pleasantries, the young heir to the House of Fire could not help but wonder at the liberty the Lady Hekla might enjoy freed of gravity's cruel chains.

The approach of the Coedd ambassador sees Artavasdes cede control of the proceedings to his new wife. Though contact had been limited, there was a great and growing concern in the House over these strange creatures that did not consider a human life something of inherent value. He doubted very much that Coedd's gift was anything more than a painstakingly-crafted lure, and resolved to submit it to full bioscan and quarantine before the night was out.

At the approach of the Knights of Eilif Dhaoine, he felt once more in his element.

"No matter the distance, we are all united in Ophon's light sir knight. Perhaps one day soon we might host you in Dur-Shalkhir and compare the traditions of Void Knights with those of Sansar's stalwart defenders."