The Arcana - Muriel Fanfics!

XIX - The Sun

*eeeee Muriel's latest book has me d e a d omg. I literally. died. at the bath scene oml. Anywho, it's the big wedding y'all, so enjoy <3!!

I can hear scant laughter ahead, the sounds of merriment in the woods. Julian awkwardly gives my arm what I'm sure is supposed to be a reassuring squeeze. The sounds grow louder and I catch glimpses of movement through the foliage. And then...

...We've arrived. Though we only invited a few people, the heat rises in my cheeks as they turn to look. Twisting around on the odd assortment of stools, piles of pillows and cushions, even the logs Muriel fashioned into seats, the chatter subdues as they realise it's about to start. My wedding's about to start, I think as my stomach lurches. 

Asra sits up straighter on his floor cushion, eyes twinkling. Nadia, sitting primly on a mushroom speckled log as though it were the most luxuriant armchair, smiles warmly. Portia's whole face lights up when I spot her, though when she sees Julian, she mouths "don't mess this up" and makes an obscene hand gesture. Julian clears his throat, visibly wilting under the scrutiny. 

There, stooping with his back to me under a large woven awning twined with forget-me-nots, is Muriel. Once he becomes aware of the sudden silence, he turns around. 

My jaw drops. Dressed in a loose cream-coloured shirt, thread-of-gold embroidery depicts howling wolves and scattered acorns, swirling across his chest. Muriel's thick hair is braided back with ribbons and knots of bright blue forget-me-nots . And draped over his broad shoulders is a great tapestry, stitched with all the colours of dusk. My breath hitches as I recognise Khamgalai's clever needlework. Altogether, Muriel looks magnificent. He also looks as though he's about to be sick. He's shaking terribly, and for a moment, I want nothing more than to forget the wedding and run to comfort him. 

Though as heart-wrenchingly nervous as he looks, when he catches sight of me, his eyes go wide. Muriel freezes, standing tenser than I've ever seen him. My hair is wild and choppy, short chocolate curls cut by his own hand. I didn't bother with make up, so my cheeks are probably blotchy red under the smattering of freckles. My bare toes curl in the grass, painfully aware of my crooked nose or my too-small lips or...

Slowly, Muriel's gaze softens and his shoulders relax. My heart flutters as he offers me the barest hint of a smile, like it's only for me. Everyone else melts away, until it's just Muriel and I, and an aisle of flower petals between us. 

Someone nudges my ribs sharply, snapping me out of the daydream. Julian leans down, whispering in my ear. "Show time, my dear."  Tentatively, I take a step forward. Julian tugs me further, and though it felt like we were advancing in slow motion, in no time at all Julian slips his arm from mine, giving me a thumbs up before taking a seat on the grass. 

Stepping under the awning, the smell of myrrh washes over me. Muriel's warmth melts away any stubborn anxiety, making me think about what Portia said.  Once you're down that aisle, it'll be just you and Muriel, and you won't even remember what you were worried about!

Colour stands out high on Muriel's cheeks, but for once, his mossy green gaze is locked onto mine. I slip my hand into his. He runs a thumb over my engagement ring. Reaching up with his free hand, Muriel carefully plucks a small clump of forget-me-nots from the awning. Gently, he tucks it behind my ear, touch lingering on my cheek. Blushing, I hear the guests sigh dreamily.

"...You look beautiful, love," Muriel whispers. I smile up at him impishly. "And you look so handsome," I whisper back. He's still smiling as a willowy, familiar figure steps under the awning. Blue braids curl on top of her head, before a single braid falls down her back. Under her shimmery blue eyeshadow, her eyes glint mischieviously. "I told you I ship it," Natiqa Satrinava says casually, smiling at us. Muriel must see my surprise. "...I invited her," he whispers. 

Natiqa clasps her hands, head high. "Today, friends, we gather to celebrate the joining of Muriel and Valeera," she says, her voice clear and high. I squeeze Muriel's hand, glancing up at him. Natiqa raises an eyebrow. "Now, where did our ring-bearer get to?" No sooner that she's asked, Inanna appears at the end of the aisle. Her dark coat is glossy and her eyes are bright; a bright green ribbon is tied around her neck. As she trots down the aisle, I realise there are two rings hanging from the ribbon. 

When she reaches us, she bumps Muriel, huffing happily. Muriel kneels down, slipping the rings from Inanna's neck and scratching behind her ears. Standing, he holds out his palm. I take the larger of the rings, obviously his, and beam at him. The ring is dark and smooth, like polished jet. Natiqa continues. "I believe Muriel has yet to recite his vows?" 

Muriel nods, more to himself than anyone else. He takes a deep breath. 

"...Most of this y-you heard at the d-dock, when I...when I proposed," he begins, taking my hands. "...B-but n-no matter what say...I know that y-you'll listen. No matter...no matter how long it takes, or how b-bad I am at...at saying things, you always wait. You're...patient."

I smile, feeling the beginnings of tears prickle in my eyes. Muriel hesitates before speaking. "...B-but you...you've always b-been more than just...just that. You're b-brave. So brave, even...even when, once, I...I d-didn't want to be." 

"...When we went South, I...I thought t-that the Hermit had b-been the one t-to take my...to take my fear. But I realised then...that it was you. You...you freed me of it. And now...now I know that if you're with me...I'll never b-be afraid."

Muriel reaches up, fingers grazing where the chains and shackles had once been. "...I also realised...that I...I love you. And to be able to c-call you...my wife," he says, a little breathless, "I...I'm the luckiest man in the world." With that, Muriel slips the ring onto my finger. I sniffle, before slipping his ring onto his finger. 

Muriel touches my cheek, before shrugging off the great tapestry on his shoulders. "...Khamgalai...this was one of hers." He stares down at it, before looking at me. I rest a hand on his arm, knowing that she'd be watching over us right now. Then, ever so gently, Muriel shakes it out and drapes it over my shoulders. 

Natiqa clicks her tongue and smiles. "Well, now I suppose there's only one thing left to do," she says, nodding at Muriel. "I, Natiqa Satrinava, Princess and Embassador of Prakra, bear witness to this ceremony, and now pronounce you husband and wife," she says with finality. 

Muriel looks from her to me, giddy with disbelief. 

Natiqa shakes her head. "What are you waiting for? Kiss!" 

A ripple of laughter runs through the crowd. I look up at Muriel through my lashes. Gently, he rests his fingers under my chin, tilting my lips to meet his. I bury my fingers in his hair, smiling against the kiss. The guests stand in applause, cheering and laughing. I turn abruptly at particularly raucous laughter, only to find the young kids from the dock perched in the branches of a tree, hooting and cheering. Following my gaze, Muriel snorts, his forehead resting against mine. "...I invited them, too."