[memshare] A Faultless Wedding
May. 20th, 2024 07:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
troublereductionIt has been a year since you left Juche. You did not expect to be back here so soon, but the mission briefing arrived at your desk and unfortunately, refusing on the grounds of your personal feelings is unacceptable. If you had a choice and had known certain details sooner, you would have declined it in a heartbeat.
On top of that, one of the most senior and eldest members of the Division of Serenity requested to partner with you for this. It is apparently something of a division tradition that A Silence Between Lovers goes on at least one mission with every Chosen of Serenity, but honestly, it just makes the nerves worse. You're not even sure why they decided it had to be this mission and can only imagine it's a matter of their whimsy.
The mission is simple enough: arrange a first meeting between the daughter of a patrician family and a mortal daughter of House Nellens to matchmake them. Somewhere down the line in the future, this star-crossed union will foster a future champion…at least according to destiny. Your and Silence's involvement is to ensure this happens without potential political complications turning things, how to say, lethal. They would both be attending a wedding, and thus it was an ideal backdrop for a romantic first meeting.
It's just incredibly awkward for you that it happens to be the wedding of your first love with the patrician daughter's sister. So, so, so awkward.
One quietly foiled kidnapping attempt and a few well-placed misdirections later, you're resting beneath a secluded awning in the guise of one of the banquet musicians on break. Even though Silence has deferred your wounds, the phantom pain of having a knife stuck into your shoulder is distracting. In the distance, you watch the bride and groom at their banquet table. The normally shy groom is laughing along with her as they toast their drinks.
…They both look so joyous, as they should on a day like this. Relief and envy tug at your heart, and you wish you could simply be happy at the sight.
Silence approaches you a while later, having opted for their adult form this mission. Raven hair and blue eyes interrupt your view as they lean into your line of sight. "Helloooo, little one."
"Can you really call me that when I'm taller than you?" Even in their adult form, they're at least five inches shorter than you.
"You're still many years too young to not be little. Little in spirit, you could say," they answer with a laugh. "The daughters have met." A soft clap of their hands. "They're getting along swimmingly. No worries there. And thanks to you, no one's the wiser of any drama."
At least your getting stabbed is appreciated by someone. "So it's all good?" you say, your eyes drifting back to the banquet table.
"For now, anyway." Silence tilts their head, their gaze following yours. They hum for a moment, before they suddenly ask you, "So, what's the story?"
"What story?" you reply, trying very hard to seem like you don't get them.
"Oh, please, you haven't exactly been subtle, little one," Silence says with a flap of their hand. "If you want to lie to me, at least make an effort to be convincing."
Shit. You close your eyes, inwardly grimacing at being called out like this. This was what you were afraid of when you heard Silence wanted to partner with you for this mission.
"If you're not going to say anything, I'm free to speculate, hmm?" Silence steeples their fingers, perhaps enjoying this a little more than they ought to, in your opinion. "You're clearly familiar with the groom since you keep looking at him, so let me guess…a first l—"
In a display that is very unlike you, you bristle and interrupt, "Okay, okay, I'll spill. Just quit it." Because you can't say you appreciate this being treated like a game.
It's hard to tell whether Silence was caught off-guard, as they are not easily surprised. They seem to realise they struck a nerve, however, from the way their eyebrows raise at your reaction. "Go on."
Smile at your troubles, smile at your troubles… is what you're telling yourself, but you can't muster a delighted mein to even try to pretend. Ugh. "I was seein' him when destiny came for me." You think this says plenty.
"Ah." Silence's eyes drift upward like they're recalling or calculating something, their expression otherwise inscrutable. "Then I'm impressed. Hardly a hitch from you, aside from the constant watching."
"I think Flint would shoot me if I let my feelings get in the way of the mission that badly." You can imagine him judging you for it, even. He would say nothing and it would somehow feel infinitely worse than if he had chastised you.
"Perhaps. There are some upsides to the Gardeners' professionalism." As if to say it's a good thing that some of it rubbed off on you from your mentor. "You could have told me sooner and saved yourself some trouble, though—oh, don't give me that look, little one," they say when you squint at them, "Our division has the least right to judge when a mission turns out to be personal. And this is, I recall, your fourth time out? Most of us understand."
In truth, you hadn't said anything out of—pride, you guess. A desire to keep this still-raw part of yourself tucked away, though perhaps you've done a poor job of it.
"...Did you miss him?" Silence asks, and for the first time in this conversation, there is no lilt to their voice. It is simply soft.
You look up at the awning, not wanting to meet Silence's gaze or see the couple. "Not 'til this mission," you answer truthfully. There is nothing to miss when you avoid thinking about it until it suddenly becomes your problem all over again.
(Now it's just unsaid, aimless feelings you're doing your best to wrangle because you're not impulsive enough to act on them. In any case, it would only bring unhappiness if you did. He doesn't remember you, and you can't get back the life you had to give up. You are like the morning mist now, ungraspable and ephemeral.)
For a while after, Silence looks at you thoughtfully, perhaps studying you. Then, they close their eyes, head tilting side to side with a hand on their cheek in thought, before they open their eyes and suddenly say, "What do you say that we give this mission a nice little bow?"
"Huh?"
"It isn't often that a mission gets to turn out so tidy. Tidy enough that it can afford some extra touches without upsetting fate."
You're back to squinting at them. "What are you suggestin'?"
Silence smiles. "A faultless ceremony. And I believe you're qualified to do the honours." Right, because you did take part in the wedding as a musician. "I'll leave it up to you who to bless."
…Sly bastard. However, there's no good reason for you to refuse the suggestion either. If anything, it's downright generous, and you'd be a bit of an ass to turn it down now. "Fine."
You close your eyes and invoke your right to access fate. In your mind's eye, a tapestry of probabilities and possibilities unfurls, like a map of stars, the threads related to now right in front of you. With a tug of those threads, you request for the wedding to be sanctified in Heaven's eyes; with a whip of your fingers, you tie its loose ends into something neat and beautiful, inviting good fortune.
Blessings for the two leading ladies who you ended up getting stabbed for, because damn straight you're going to let them have it after what you went through. One for the poor band leader who had to put up with your nonsense this wedding. And…
…
Blessings for the wedded couple. One for the bride, and one for the groom—for Dutiful Sparrow, who you once…
You are happy. Truly, genuinely, despite everything else, there is still room for joy over this beautiful occasion that you put your blood and sweat into. The part of your heart that will always love him is glad for his happiness, that fate allowed it for him. He married a good person.
You are heartbroken. It feels almost unbearably lonely that you are here granting blessings, knowing you will never be thanked for it. The part of your heart that will always love him wishes it could have seen things through back then. Even if it wasn't destined for a happy ending.
It is these things: love and loss, confelicity and yearning, that has you in tears after almost a year since you told yourself you had none left in you. You refuse to open your eyes and instead scrub at what's leaking out, because you're sure you'll cry yourself empty again if you do.
You feel a hand on your head, like how a grandparent would pat their grandchild, and you hear Silence say, "You've worked hard. I think you'll fit right in with us."
It is a year late, and some things will forever be left unsaid.
But for once, you can say goodbye properly.
On top of that, one of the most senior and eldest members of the Division of Serenity requested to partner with you for this. It is apparently something of a division tradition that A Silence Between Lovers goes on at least one mission with every Chosen of Serenity, but honestly, it just makes the nerves worse. You're not even sure why they decided it had to be this mission and can only imagine it's a matter of their whimsy.
The mission is simple enough: arrange a first meeting between the daughter of a patrician family and a mortal daughter of House Nellens to matchmake them. Somewhere down the line in the future, this star-crossed union will foster a future champion…at least according to destiny. Your and Silence's involvement is to ensure this happens without potential political complications turning things, how to say, lethal. They would both be attending a wedding, and thus it was an ideal backdrop for a romantic first meeting.
It's just incredibly awkward for you that it happens to be the wedding of your first love with the patrician daughter's sister. So, so, so awkward.
One quietly foiled kidnapping attempt and a few well-placed misdirections later, you're resting beneath a secluded awning in the guise of one of the banquet musicians on break. Even though Silence has deferred your wounds, the phantom pain of having a knife stuck into your shoulder is distracting. In the distance, you watch the bride and groom at their banquet table. The normally shy groom is laughing along with her as they toast their drinks.
…They both look so joyous, as they should on a day like this. Relief and envy tug at your heart, and you wish you could simply be happy at the sight.
Silence approaches you a while later, having opted for their adult form this mission. Raven hair and blue eyes interrupt your view as they lean into your line of sight. "Helloooo, little one."
"Can you really call me that when I'm taller than you?" Even in their adult form, they're at least five inches shorter than you.
"You're still many years too young to not be little. Little in spirit, you could say," they answer with a laugh. "The daughters have met." A soft clap of their hands. "They're getting along swimmingly. No worries there. And thanks to you, no one's the wiser of any drama."
At least your getting stabbed is appreciated by someone. "So it's all good?" you say, your eyes drifting back to the banquet table.
"For now, anyway." Silence tilts their head, their gaze following yours. They hum for a moment, before they suddenly ask you, "So, what's the story?"
"What story?" you reply, trying very hard to seem like you don't get them.
"Oh, please, you haven't exactly been subtle, little one," Silence says with a flap of their hand. "If you want to lie to me, at least make an effort to be convincing."
Shit. You close your eyes, inwardly grimacing at being called out like this. This was what you were afraid of when you heard Silence wanted to partner with you for this mission.
"If you're not going to say anything, I'm free to speculate, hmm?" Silence steeples their fingers, perhaps enjoying this a little more than they ought to, in your opinion. "You're clearly familiar with the groom since you keep looking at him, so let me guess…a first l—"
In a display that is very unlike you, you bristle and interrupt, "Okay, okay, I'll spill. Just quit it." Because you can't say you appreciate this being treated like a game.
It's hard to tell whether Silence was caught off-guard, as they are not easily surprised. They seem to realise they struck a nerve, however, from the way their eyebrows raise at your reaction. "Go on."
Smile at your troubles, smile at your troubles… is what you're telling yourself, but you can't muster a delighted mein to even try to pretend. Ugh. "I was seein' him when destiny came for me." You think this says plenty.
"Ah." Silence's eyes drift upward like they're recalling or calculating something, their expression otherwise inscrutable. "Then I'm impressed. Hardly a hitch from you, aside from the constant watching."
"I think Flint would shoot me if I let my feelings get in the way of the mission that badly." You can imagine him judging you for it, even. He would say nothing and it would somehow feel infinitely worse than if he had chastised you.
"Perhaps. There are some upsides to the Gardeners' professionalism." As if to say it's a good thing that some of it rubbed off on you from your mentor. "You could have told me sooner and saved yourself some trouble, though—oh, don't give me that look, little one," they say when you squint at them, "Our division has the least right to judge when a mission turns out to be personal. And this is, I recall, your fourth time out? Most of us understand."
In truth, you hadn't said anything out of—pride, you guess. A desire to keep this still-raw part of yourself tucked away, though perhaps you've done a poor job of it.
"...Did you miss him?" Silence asks, and for the first time in this conversation, there is no lilt to their voice. It is simply soft.
You look up at the awning, not wanting to meet Silence's gaze or see the couple. "Not 'til this mission," you answer truthfully. There is nothing to miss when you avoid thinking about it until it suddenly becomes your problem all over again.
(Now it's just unsaid, aimless feelings you're doing your best to wrangle because you're not impulsive enough to act on them. In any case, it would only bring unhappiness if you did. He doesn't remember you, and you can't get back the life you had to give up. You are like the morning mist now, ungraspable and ephemeral.)
For a while after, Silence looks at you thoughtfully, perhaps studying you. Then, they close their eyes, head tilting side to side with a hand on their cheek in thought, before they open their eyes and suddenly say, "What do you say that we give this mission a nice little bow?"
"Huh?"
"It isn't often that a mission gets to turn out so tidy. Tidy enough that it can afford some extra touches without upsetting fate."
You're back to squinting at them. "What are you suggestin'?"
Silence smiles. "A faultless ceremony. And I believe you're qualified to do the honours." Right, because you did take part in the wedding as a musician. "I'll leave it up to you who to bless."
…Sly bastard. However, there's no good reason for you to refuse the suggestion either. If anything, it's downright generous, and you'd be a bit of an ass to turn it down now. "Fine."
You close your eyes and invoke your right to access fate. In your mind's eye, a tapestry of probabilities and possibilities unfurls, like a map of stars, the threads related to now right in front of you. With a tug of those threads, you request for the wedding to be sanctified in Heaven's eyes; with a whip of your fingers, you tie its loose ends into something neat and beautiful, inviting good fortune.
Blessings for the two leading ladies who you ended up getting stabbed for, because damn straight you're going to let them have it after what you went through. One for the poor band leader who had to put up with your nonsense this wedding. And…
…
Blessings for the wedded couple. One for the bride, and one for the groom—for Dutiful Sparrow, who you once…
You are happy. Truly, genuinely, despite everything else, there is still room for joy over this beautiful occasion that you put your blood and sweat into. The part of your heart that will always love him is glad for his happiness, that fate allowed it for him. He married a good person.
You are heartbroken. It feels almost unbearably lonely that you are here granting blessings, knowing you will never be thanked for it. The part of your heart that will always love him wishes it could have seen things through back then. Even if it wasn't destined for a happy ending.
It is these things: love and loss, confelicity and yearning, that has you in tears after almost a year since you told yourself you had none left in you. You refuse to open your eyes and instead scrub at what's leaking out, because you're sure you'll cry yourself empty again if you do.
You feel a hand on your head, like how a grandparent would pat their grandchild, and you hear Silence say, "You've worked hard. I think you'll fit right in with us."
It is a year late, and some things will forever be left unsaid.
But for once, you can say goodbye properly.
