#Sholmes my other beloved idiot...

[ridragon]

I went to the grocery store and only internally freaked out and was able to hold in collapsing on the floor until all the food was mostly put away yeeey

[bailey-reaper]

Do a drabble on Barok’s and his s/o wedding day and night.

The Ring of Truth

Notes: Hmmm! This is another of those scenarios that would no doubt differ depending on S/O's gender and, possibly, their standing in society. I'm going to proceed on the assumption that the wedding is a private affair that is conducted in a rather unconventional manner.

Also, sorry anon, I didn't end up writing about the wedding night – perhaps another time!

In this instance, S/O is gender neutral (they/them pronouns). Barok refers to them using petnames.

Content Warnings: fluff, marriage, Herlock Sholmes

"You know," Herlock Sholmes began, causing Barok to surreptitiously roll his eyes, "It just so happens that I'm a recognised member of the clergy!"

That one caused a small ripple of shock at the table, "Are you really?" Barok replied dryly, because no doubt this was going to form part of a 'witty' (and lengthy) anecdote that would drone on and on until the teller forgot what he was talking about and changed to some other inane subject.

"Yes, indeed," Sholmes said, taking a brief puff on his pipe, "I was ordained into the priesthood as thanks for my swift, discreet solving of a little matter that was upsetting Vatican City..."

"Oh Mr. Sholmes you simply must tell us more!" Susato chimed in, clasping her hands together in delight.

"Why I'd love to, my dear madam."

"Yes," Barok muttered, "There's nothing you love more than the sound of your own voice..."

"Rather a rude quip, Mr. Reaper, and from a lawyer no less!"

"At least when I talk it holds some relevance to it."

"Hmmm, I suspect what I say here will hold relevance some day down the line..."

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

And, much to Barok's disbelief, Sholme's words held true when he found himself in need of someone to officiate a ceremony between him and his beloved. He'd abandoned his faith a long while ago, when Klint died, and he did not care to rejoin a flock again.

While his beloved had never been much for faith and was similarly without a Parish Church to call theirs. In such circumstances, Barok had finally cast his mind back to the irksome detective's declaration to the effect that he was a 'member of the clergy'.

Any ceremony they conducted would be unofficial, of course, given their circumstances, but they were both keen to be married in a symbolic sense. An exchange of rings and words. It was not something Barok had thought he wanted, but a growing part of him had become deeply keen on the idea of a 'wedding' with his beloved.

So, much to his chagrin, he found himself calling at 211B Baker Street to speak to Sholmes.

"My dear man!" Sholmes exclaimed excitedly, "A wedding is a truly auspicious affair, and the wedding of a Reaper must be doubly so in some realm or another!"

Barok peered at the detective, lips drawn into a thin line, "Answer the question, man, will you officiate or not?"

"Nothing would delight me more! Now, might I suggest the perfect venue?"

". . . . You may suggest what you like, but I remain at liberty to reject your request on account of it no doubt being utterly ridiculous."

"Come now, Mr. Reaper, I'm not about to suggest you be wed in a hot air balloon or something of that nature! Though, come to think of it, that would be quite a thrilling way in which to 'tie the knot' haha!"

". . . . I'm starting to lose my patience, Sholmes..."

"Running out of wine, are we?"

"That's neither here nor there," Barok observed, taking a sip of wine, "Though it does mean that casting this hallowed chalice at your head would be a more worthwhile use for it..."

"Yes, yes, no doubt you've the right of it, sir!" it seemed nothing could affect the detective's mood when his spirits were high, not even the threat of violence from the Reaper himself, "Anyway, as I was saying: I think a ceremony, right here, in Baker Street, would be perfect. There can be no more romantic venue than the living quarters of the greatest and most famous detective of all time! And the pleasure can be yours, my good fellow, for the nominal fee of one hundred shillings!"

A long silence drew out between the two men: Herlock stood over his guest, leaning in, with a smile on his face and hands out in fanfare while Barok stared at his host, unblinking, before finishing what remained in his chalice.

"No," he finally and bluntly replied, "I have a perfectly attractive ancestral home that can serve as a venue. Naturally, I will permit you the use of one of the cottages within the estate, and you may remain for a spell afterward on holiday if you so wish... but I won't be renting your... eccentric premises. I cannot think of a more chaotic and unappealing place to host a wedding."

Sholmes sighed, "Ah... it must be quite a challenge to be so perpetually dour! Still, I admire your tenacity Mr. Reaper!"

"... Thank you, it comes naturally."

"Well, it is settled, give me a date and time and I shall be there posthaste to wed you and your sweetheart in holy matrimony? Unholy matrimony? Oh but wait... what on earth will happen when you reach the 'til death do us part' section of the vows? Being a reaper and all!" Sholmes laughed with delight as he contemplated the absurdity of a reaper being wed.

"I'll see myself out," Barok said, leaving the detective to his amusement.

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

A few months later, the date of the wedding arrived.

In somewhat unconventional fashion, Barok had selected his lawyerly nemesis, Ryūnosuke Naruhodō, to be his best man. The gesture was not lost on the young man, who took to it with his usual furtive vigour.

"Would you stop looking around like with quite such a terrified look in your eyes?" the groom said, glaring at the best man as he stood there trembling, "Anyone would think it was you getting married."

"Well... uh... yes I... um, sorry," Ryūnosuke eventually managed, "... I suppose I'm still a little surprised that you would ask me, of all people, to be your best man... not least of all given that I have no idea how British wedding ceremonies work."

"Well, happily for you this is far from a conventional one," Barok replied, "Who knows what will go wrong with that idiot detective in charge of proceedings..." it was strangely freeing, however, to know that nothing hinged on this. There were no expectant aristocrats, waiting for anything to go wrong so that they could then gossip about it for years to come; nor extended relatives to have to placate. The intimacy of the ceremony meant that the only thing Barok cared about was his beloved enjoying their day, which was a good concern to have.

"And as for choosing you to be my best man," he continued, "I think you've earned at least that much... Were it not for you, I'd no doubt be dead or transported by now."

It was still sobering to think that he'd almost been convicted of murder...

"... I'm sure you would have managed your own defence, but, I'm glad that we could all reach the truth."

"Yes..." it had been deeply cathartic in its way, perhaps just a touch more so than it had been soul shattering. If not for Ryūnosuke's impressive defence and his beloved's support, Barok was unsure what sort of a mess he would have become post-trial.

The ordeal had only cemented in his mind that this person was the one he wanted to be with for the rest of his life – however long that might be. He paused as he looked down at the Prosecutor's badge he'd affixed to his suit; Klint's badge. His fingers grazed the finely enameled surface. The fact that his older brother was not here to see him wed was a tragic one, but, he had come to the conclusion that he needed to move forward rather than perpetually looking back.

No doubt Klint would want him to enjoy his day, so he ought to honour that wish.

"Uh... Lord van Zieks?" he realised Ryūnosuke was speaking.

"... You may call me Barok, Mr. Naruhodō."

"Oh... uh..." clearly that had startled him, "In... that case, please call me 'Ryūnosuke'."

"... Very well. What is it, Ryūnosuke?"

"It's time for the ceremony."

Barok took a deep breath and nodded, "... Let's go, then," it had been a long while since he felt the flutter of nerves quite like this; in fact, it reminded him of the first time he stood in a court during his studies for a mock trial full of nervous energy.

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

To his credit, Sholmes was surprisingly focused and capable in his capacity as an officiator. Barok had to give him credit for that. The proceedings were conducted with an air of sobering warmth and not even a snicker at the 'til death do you part' section. Even the exchange of rings went off without a hitch.

It was all going so well, until––

"I now pronounce you Reaper and Spouse, you may now kiss the demigod."

Barok shot a fierce glare at Sholmes, but was quickly and completely distracted by his beloved's arms around him and their lips on his. He had to lift them up so that they could reach his mouth, but that was easily and readily achieved.

Finally they parted, Barok looking at his love in a delighted stupour, "... Well," he murmured after a few moments pause, "It seems we're now wed..."

"Yes," they replied, with a beaming smile and tears rolling down their cheeks, "And I couldn't be happier..."

It took him a moment to realise that his own eyes were glassy with tears as he looked down at his delighted love; his spouse, "Nor I... You have brought such light into my life, my beloved... it may sound trite, but it's true."

"I love you, Barok," they held him close while he returned the hold in kind; everything else melting into the background as he focused on the love of his life.

"I love you too..."