Burned Into Glory

Colosseum

Rome was warm, at least compared to the mountains of Austria, and as bustling as New York had been. Perhaps, Queenie pondered, it was even a little more chaotic, a little crazier around the edges. She liked it. Grindelwald's private residence in Rome was a palatial villa with corridors that opened into a beautiful courtyard with two stone fountains and a marble statue of a veiled woman. The villa was full of painted frescoes that had been enchanted to move, with tile mosaics that shifted every now and then. It was a palace full of magic, and Queenie loved it just as much as she loved the psychotic city outside its walls.

Today, on the afternoon of her wedding to Gellert Grindelwald, she stood in the parlour of the rooms she had been given here, at least until tonight, when she would move into Grindelwald's suite. She stared at herself in the full-length gilded mirror and huffed a shaking breath.

Madame Trousseau had made Queenie's vision come to life perfectly. Her gown was crafted of beautiful white chiffon in four asymmetrical tiered skirts that made her look like a Grecian goddess. The underbodice was white chiffon, too, strapless and simple. Covering it were two very wide strips of lace in a V shape, one going over each shoulder. The lace was white and gold threaded together, angelic-looking. Queenie wore her pendant that Grindelwald had given her - the diamond and platinum one that was his symbol. On her head she wore a crown-like headpiece of platinum and gold that Grindelwald himself had crafted for her a few days earlier to tie her necklace together with the lace. Attached to the headpiece was a veil of the delicate gold and white lace, falling down her back and going all the way to the length of the skirts' substantial train. Queenie carried a bouquet of peach roses with stephanotis and pearls.

Now she studied her reflection, and she truly did see a bride. She didn't just see a Legilimens. She didn't see a witch who had defected from her sister and her No-Maj boyfriend. She saw a bride. Today, that was who she was. She was the bride of Gellert Grindelwald.

"Come in!" she called, for there was gentle knocking on her parlour door. The heavy door creaked open, and Vinda Rosier came walking in. She wore a calf-length frock coat in dark green tweed, looking at once serious and beautiful. She had on black leather boots and black satin gloves, and her pointed green hat had a black accent. Her look echoed the fact that today her role was very solemn. She was officiating the ceremony, the handfasting, the wedding between Gellert Grindelwald and Queenie Goldstein. Vinda seemed mildly nervous as she shut the door and stalked toward Queenie.

"You look so beautiful I could cry," she declared, and Queenie blinked a few times, trying to control herself. She'd waterproofed her own makeup, but she still felt like she was going to lose control. She shrugged and asked helplessly,

"What if he gets cold feet?"

"Cold feet?" Vinda, being French, obviously did not understand the idiom. Queenie clarified,

"What if he decides at the last minute that he doesn't want to marry me?"

Vinda tipped her head and frowned. "This is the last minute," she pointed out. "We are about to Apparate to the Colosseum. And I have just come from speaking with him to finalise the logistics of getting safely into the stadium."

"You just talked to him?" Queenie stared at Vinda in the mirror. "What did he say?"

Vinda put her hand onto Queenie's shoulder and gave her friend a reassuring smile. "He said that today is the most important day of his life, and it is vitally important that everything go according to plan. He also told me, as the officiant, to be certain to get the handfasting right, because of how deeply he loves you."

"He said that?" Queenie turned around slowly, her train pulling with her. Vinda sighed and said,

"He told me, 'You know I love her more than life itself, Vinda, so get it right, will you?'"