#day302021

[kharrisdawndancer]

Cat-astrophe

There was going to be some sort of ceremony, she was pretty sure. She’d heard the rumors on the street this afternoon as portals streamed with returning adventurers. Kharris did her shopping and watched them drift around the city. The population of Dalaran more than doubling overnight as the heroes dragged themselves here. An Old God defeated! And some kind of Star Man after. The word celestial was thrown around. Kharris was just glad the extra weight in bodies hadn’t tipped Dalaran like a teeter totter. She snorted to herself at that image, dimples peeking out as she let her grin grow. She tipped the meatballs into her bowl down the spoon like so many bodies falling out the sewer pipes of the Underbelly. Farthing watched with rapt feline attention. He knew he’d get some of the spaghetti she was finishing garnishing soon enough.

Kharris danced her way toward the table, spinning as she set her plate down and her glass. She was spinning back toward the table with the full bowl in her hands when it happened. There was a magical thrum through the whole city and it startled both Kharris and the cat. Rhonin’s voice boomed through the metropolis. “CITIZENS OF DALARAN--” If it had only been Kharris who had been startled, it probably would have turned out okay. But when the blaring announcement came through the cat had been underfoot, weaving his way like a good dance partner. There was spaghetti everywhere. Catastrophic. Emphasis on ‘cat’. ‘At least one of us is happy,’ Kharris mused, picking a noodle out of her hair.

@daily-writing-challenge

day 30 Ceremony/Catastrophic

[rhysgoodwin]

Day 30 - Catastrophic @daily-writing-challenge​

Rhys stared out over the pumpkin patch with a confused cringe. Somehow the pigs had managed to escape from their pen and treat themselves to all these beautiful pumpkins...meant for the upcoming fall festival this weekend. The damage was catastrophic, there wouldn’t be much to salvage which meant the family he worked for would probably lose out on a whole lot of gold.

Had he left the gate open? Surely not, he was smarter than that, especially after the ‘Great Winter Veil Goat Incident’. After wandering over to inspect their pen, everything appeared to be in proper order and someone must have just accidentally left this open. That’s when he heard the faint sobbing from around the side of the barn. “Mrs. Padley?” He peeked his head around the corner and sure enough the poor woman was sitting on a bale of hay and having a minor breakdown. “Are you okay?”

“It’s all my fault, he’s gonna kill me…I totally forgot...” She sobbed, gesturing towards the demolished pumpkins.

“He’s not gonna kill you…” Hopefully. He was a nice enough man for the most part, but if you got him angry he could turn a little violent. Not so much hitting anyone, at least that Rhys was aware of, but more so breaking things and punching inanimate objects. He had some anger issues. Rhys chewed on his lower lip as he glanced down towards the woman, “It can be my fault? I’ll tell him I must have forgot to latch their pen.”

Eve’s tearfilled, brown eyes fluttered up to him before she practically jumped into his arms to give him a hug. Rhys happily returned the gesture, he always craved affection. Plus, she smelled like fresh cut grass and newly washed laundry, and her little cloth nightgown was so soft beneath his calloused hands.

“You are such a sweet boy, thank you.” She leaned back and gave his hands a squeeze before popping up onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss at the very corner of his lips. “I’ll make it up to you later, mmm?” She gave him a wink before wiping away her tears and returning to the house.

Rhys could feel his cheeks flush, that was unexpected. Maybe she would make him a nice breakfast, he did love breakfast the most. She was so nice to him. His gaze drifted back towards the pumpkin massacre and he sighed. Right. Hopefully he could enjoy that breakfast before her husband saw all this.

[aerdendios]

Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 30 - Ceremony

The medal and promotion ceremony had been nice; it felt good to be recognized for taking a really heroic, albeit dumb risk and not dying. That was life in the military though, wasn’t it? You don’t make a name for yourself by playing it safe. He wasn’t terribly fond of having his valiant adventures within the Maw recounted in front of the entire room, but at least the ‘after party’ was enjoyable.

Pyraelia happily accompanied him back to his apartment after the socializing and drinking with the others had concluded, there was a promise of some thistle and possibly a lewd act only appropriate behind doors. That wasn’t the reason he invited her over, although he would absolutely have to remember that wearing his full dress uniform clearly elicited an extremely positive reaction. 

It was just nice to not be alone, especially with someone that understood he was going through something and was more than happy to quietly share some thistle while listening to his music. She never pried, pushed, or expected anything in return other than his friendship. It just felt so easy to be around her, and he cherished that immensely.

After she departed the next morning, he pulled out his little sketchbook and began drawing. It had been a long time and he was a little rusty, but he wanted to send her his own little thank you. A couple hours later, he stuck the postcard-sized drawing into an envelope and sent it her way. He could have delivered it in person, but getting mail was always a fun surprise!  

Within the envelope she would find a drawing of herself dressed as a superhero, donning a pastel lavender and pink bodysuit with matching thigh high boots. Of course she’s also striking a superhero pose; hovering in mid-air, hair looking as if it caught the perfect gust of wind, arm prosthetic covered in sparkly blue flames and shooting out a massive ball of matching fire towards the viewer. At the top, her superhero name in bold letters, ‘PYRABLAST’, and a little ‘<3, Aerden’ on the back.

@daily-writing-challenge @pyraelia​

[ainsley-f]

Ceremony / Catastrophic

Day 30, DWC 2021

CW: Mentions of War and Death, Mild Gore, Implications of Anxiety/Panic/Trauma

Years ago. Shortly after the war.

As soon as she was able to, Ainsley bought the first tram ticket out of Stormwind. The past few days had been absolute chaos as the streets were filled with civilians and various citizens celebrating the long-awaited defeat of the Lich King and an end to the war in Northrend. Ainsley wished she could celebrate as fervently as the rest of the world, but she just felt sick. Ironforge was no better, she realized as soon as she exited the tram station, so as soon as she got the opportunity she booked herself a ram and began making her way to Kharanos.

She loved Dun Morogh and it’s perpetual snowy landscape, she always had. Warm weather had never been favorite. But looking at the white plains of endless snow now just made her feel more ill. Her chest would tighten up at random intervals, making it hard to breath—hard to think, really. If she couldn’t be here, in one of her favorite places in the Eastern Kingdoms, then where would she go?

She tried to rid herself of those thoughts as soon as they came, lest the anxious nausea returned. Her mind went back to day before when the medal ceremony was held. Stormwind Keep had been lavishly decorated and filled with all manner of military and medical personnel, family and friends, and many of the noble houses to commemorate the occasion. But what was supposed to be a day of celebration to honor all the military personnel and their hard, diligent work throughout the war only made her feel lonely and worthless. Leoren and Kasfer both had their ceremonies in Dalaran, and Rizza’s in Ironforge. Velaye was supposed to receive her medals alongside the priestess, but she hadn’t even shown up, causing Ainsley to feel as isolated as ever. The entire ceremony she felt as if in a daze.

“Ainsley Artemius Ferelyn: For your front line work and exemplary medical services with Unit 21 based out of Dragonblight, as well as the Argent Crusade. Thank you for your service to the Alliance and to Azeroth.”

She had merely given a curt nod of thanks to the Grand Commander as he pinned her medals onto her tabard. But all she could think of at the moment, as the room seemed to blur and spin, was how she held Aedyn’s broken, charred body in her arms as she sobbed into the frigid air, begging herself to do something -anything- to help save him, or at least let her take him away from that battle-scarred, fire-felled hellscape. All she could think of was how Hjeris’s body wasn’t even able to be recovered from the blasts, or how she saw the dying body of her commander laying on the infirmary bed, barely recognizable underneath the layers and layers of melted, plague-ridden flesh, as he breathed his last few breaths.

As the crowd applauded politely, all she remembered thinking of was Aedyn’s grandmother, Claris, whom she had met with a few days prior to the ceremony. The faces in the crowd all blurred together until all she saw was the elderly woman’s bereaved face, tears spilling out in steady streams and her body wracking uncontrollably as she wept and wept, realizing she had lost the only family she had left.

All the priestess felt was guilt—guilt that there was nothing more she could do, nothing more she could say, nothing at all that would make all the horrors of the war go away. Guilt that she couldn’t do anything to help those they had lost. Guilt that she couldn’t find it in her to celebrate with her fellow citizens, or celebrate the work her comrades had poured all their effort, blood, sweat, and tears into. Guilt that she couldn’t even inquire about Sammy, Aedyn’s best friend, to meet him and give him some semblance of comfort for losing another friend. Because that was just another grief-stricken face that Ainsley could not bear to look at at.

It was all she could do afterwards, once the ceremony had concluded, but make a beeline out of the Keep and onto the streets, avoiding the crowds of celebratory gatherers while trying not to stumble over her own wobbly feet. She didn’t even make it to a bathroom, instead ducking into a narrow alleyway before hunching over a corner and emptying the contents of her stomach. Had she even eaten that day?

She had gone to the Dwarven District as soon as she was able to walk right and purchased her ticket for the next morning.

The quiet that encompassed Kharanos was a welcome change from the commotion she had been through the past few days. The air was cold and nippy, but Ainsley appreciated how she was finally able to somewhat think again. She left her ram at the local stable before trudging her way through the fresh snow to the medical clinic. It had been a while since she saw Eirdwen. As the head doctor at the Kharanos clinic, and the strong, proud Dwarvish woman she was, Eirdwen was a talented healer and a tough teacher. But as tough as she was, she was also kind and compassionate, and showed Ainsley an almost mother-like affection that she never had growing up. Eirdwen was the first person she thought of when thinking of who she could go to, away from…everything.

The clinic was quiet, which didn’t seem all too unusual. Before Ainsley could even sit down, a copper-haired head popped out from the corner and a loud, cheerful voice rang out.

“Ainsley, my dear!”

“Hi Eirdwen,” she smiled back, watching as the Dwarf bounded up to her enthusiastically.

Eirdwen reached out her arms, “Come ‘ere and give me a hug, ye pointy-eared troublemaker.”

A chuckled escaped the priestess’s lips as she bent down to give the woman a warm, tight embrace. “It’s good to see you, Eirdwen. It’s been a while.”

“It has,” came her pointed reply. She let go of the half-elf but kept her hands on her shoulders, appraising her carefully. “I thank the Light yer okay, and ye made it out of tha’ damned war.”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m glad it’s over, too.”

“So what are ye back ‘ere for? Not tha’ I mind, of course, yer always welcome,” Eirdwen’s eyes shone brightly. “Surely ye must have gotten offers of work elsewhere.”

“I, uh, yeah. I did,” Ainsley responded hesitantly as the two of them found a seat. “Um, I was offered a position in the medical corps for the 7th Legion. But I, uh…I declined.” She rubbed her neck sheepishly, finding her gaze distracted by everything else in the room. “Didn’t feel right.”

The dwarf nodded but said nothing, her hands clasping onto Ainsley’s comfortingly.

“The Argent Crusade offered me my position back to work in the Plaguelands. With the Scourge under control, restoration and fortification measures should be much simpler. I’ll…I’ll probably do that.”

“That’s great!” Eirdwen beamed. “Any place is lucky te have ye.”

That tightness in her chest returned, as all of a sudden Ainsley felt an uneasy chill run through her. Her breathing became shallow and her eyes felt warm, and an abrupt need to look anywhere but the dwarf’s eyes took over.

“I just…I,” Ainsley stuttered. “I need some time. I don’t really want to…to do anything…too major right now.”

“Of course, my dear,” the dwarf reassured. “And yer more than welcome te stay ‘ere as long as you’d like. I can give ye some small work te keep ye busy as ye figure out yer bearings.”

There was a lingering silence that hung in the air, stale and awkward, as Ainsley nodded gratefully. She could tell Eirdwen was trying to find ways to fill it without being too pushy.

“How’s Stormwind?” the dwarf remembered. “The medal ceremony was yesterday, right? I thought you’d want te spent some time at home.”

The tightness increased. She didn’t know how long she sat there for, just staring at the ground, until she saw drops of water spatter down beside her feet, realizing too late that tears had long welled up in her eyes and began cascading down her face. Her shoulders began to shake uncontrollably.

“I just…” the priestess choked. “I just needed to get away…from all the noise.”

Ainsley could barely hear her own sobs as Eirdwen silently moved to wrap her arms around her. As the priestess buried her face in the dwarf’s shoulders, she couldn’t feel anything except the uncomfortable heaving of her chest and an unbearable weight that had settled upon her shoulders, her mind, and her heart.

‘Ainsley Artemius Ferelyn, thank you for your service.’

‘Thank you for your service.’

‘Thank you’

Thank you.

Thank you…

For what?

@daily-writing-challenge​

[darbiebot]

Daily Writing Challenge Day 30: Ceremony- Darlain

It was lovely weather, no clouds at this elevation was quite rare, Lorelei could see all the way out to the Loch to the east. Still, it was cold, the crowd of onlookers, and her fellow students did little to bolster her from the biting shill.

"Dane Grimhand, step forward."

The crowd was all smiles, but respectful. The young dwarf stepped forward as Muradin himself nodded at the boy, clasping his shoulder and marking him with the Bronzebeard clan symbol.

"By the great mountain! By the stone which bore us all! By the ice and snow!"

She was already getting bored, there was over fifty of them, there to take the Clan vows, and it was at least four minutes per... she sighed.

"The Bronzebeards 'ave watched over these lands since we left the northlands! And it 'as been a stawart 'ome ever since!"

Muradin handed his Stormhammer to the boy, Who stepped out to the edge of the overlook... gave his best attempt of a blood-curdling scram... might curdle milk, she thought with a smirk. And hurled the hammer off the mountain side... not terribly far though, she could hear it land about 6 feet down on the mountainside. Muradin gave his best fake smile gave an approving yell to the crowd! "And so walks a proud son of the Mountain! Welcome yer newest Bronzebeard Clansman!"

With a snap of his fingers, the Stormhammer appeared back in his hand.

"Alright.. lets see! Aha, a Truth'ammer, then? Been a long time since we inducted one! come on up, Lorelei Truth'ammer!"

Lorelei calmly walked forward, until...

"WOOOOOOO!!! Lets go LORELEI!!"

"True Daughter o' the Mountain, do us proud lass!"

"Uhh... go get them! Lorelei!"

"Woo, kiddo, you got this!"

Oh gods, she picked her parents out in the crowd, as well as Henii, Ivi, Shillan, and half the Meddlers all crowded together.

She thought she was gonna die of embarressment. Muradin held his hand out for silence, but it still took a bit.

Fel... some of them brought signs. She could barely concentrate, keeping her head down and trying not to look their way. People were still murming about the strange crowd, with so many non-dwarves.

"Uh err.. lass" She looked up, Muradin was looking down at her, his hand outstretched offering the hammer. She shook out of her daze, grabbing the hammer and hurridly made he way out to the precipice. Again, cheers from her parents and their friends. "Oh that's my lass! You've got this."

"Throw it out tae the Loch, lass! Show the clan what you've got!"

Her hands gripped the axe, a frown forming on her face.

"You got this!"

Everyone was watching them and shaking their heads.. she closed her eyes... gritter her teeth.

"WOOO!"

"Enough!" she shouted out, the hammer flying out... far.. way father than anyone else, the crowd, even Muradin, let out a gasp as the hammer cleared the slope below, careening out of view.

She stood a bit awkwardly... before the entire crowd cheered, somehow, above all the jubilation, she could hear -them-.

She... smiled, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

@daily-writing-challenge

[rosecrownreserve]

DWC, Day 30 - Ceremony, Catastrophic

(These words broke my creativity streak for probably the lowest effort piece of the whole challenge. I’m skipping the read more for this one.)

“You should throw parties here.”

Leo'mar stood with a friend in a the same clearing that his mother used to throw parties in once upon a time. Most of the grounds to his family home was natural forest with lush plant life everywhere. The clearing the pair stood in was the only one of its kind on the property, the largest gap without trees or bushes or flowers that would allow people to gather outside and see the sky above.

The suggestion wasn't the first one he had heard. He might even have once considered how he might do it, but any such thoughts only led to thoughts of how catastrophic such an event would go as he really wasn't cut out to be such a host. “I could see maybe lending the space for someone else to play host, or to hold a ceremony. I don't see myself throwing any events here myself.

“It would be a shame if you didn't try at least once. Even just for a few people.”

“It would have to be very few people for me to consider that.” Perhaps if Leo tried it no one would ask again when they saw how bad it could go.

@daily-writing-challenge

[lordrethandus]

Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 30

Ceremony ( @daily-writing-challenge​ )

World: Final Fantasy 14

Theme: Vox Vulgaris - La Suite Meurtrière

“Vigilance! Diligence! Violence! These are the three pillars that make up the foundation of our order! Of our creed!” Guard Captain Totopeko shouted with a commanding bellow that carried through the great stone keep. The old Lalafell turned on his heel with his gauntlet clutching his ivory and crimson cloak, and he began pacing in the opposite direction until he reached the end of the knights. “When you came to us… you were nothing! No one! Bastards and thieves! Bandits and pirates! Criminals and craven alike! With sharpened steel and hardened resolve you are here today. Lives reshaped for the glory of the Gilded Court!”

Zoronado was not a bastard, but he didn’t know his parents. He was not a thief nor a bandit, such petty monetary gain was beneath him. Nor a pirate, the worst scum Hydaelyn had to offer; he has committed no crimes and has never shown cowardice – not once in all his years. Yet he stood tall and proud beside his brothers-in-arms all the same, eagerly awaiting the good news. Sweat glistened on his brow under the hot sunlight streaking through the painted glass ceiling, with beads rolling down his temples. He had been in uniform since before sunrise, carrying his bulky shield all day; but after a decade and a half of grueling practice and perseverance, his hard work was about to pay off.

“You were all called here for a reason!” Shouted the Guard Captain. “Five of the Bulwark’s finest! Let your deeds from this day forth bear testament to the strength of the Lalafell! Brothers in arms! Brothers in death!”

“AAAOOO! AAAOOO! AAAOOO!” They all shouted in unison, slamming their shields against the floor to fill the keep with their thunderous rhythm. Even Totopeko joined in, smashing his fist against his breastplate. It didn’t take long for their excitement to reach a fever pitch, increasing their tempo with vigorous fervor. They grew so loud and rowdy that they didn’t notice the main entrance swing wide open for the daughter of their sole benefactor. Leleni Leni blinked at how rowdy her men were behaving, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her father, however, would be less than pleased if he heard about this.

“MAIDEN ON DECK!” Totopeko barked at the top of his lungs! Immediately he and the five knights dropped to kneel like they all were kicked in the back of the knee at the same time, and after the echo of their plated knees striking the stone floor made its final bounce against the walls, the keep was as silent as a grave. Leleni nervously cleared her throat as she began to walk, her handmaidens briskly keeping pace while keeping the ends of her gown off the dusty ground. She was suddenly uncomfortable with their presence, despite gazing down at each and every one of them and picking them herself; none of them were wearing their helmets, but at least they were disciplined enough to keep their eyes closed and their heads bowed. It made speaking to them far easier.

“Noble knights…” She started, walking up the steps as slowly and as carefully as she could. “I have chosen each of you to become my fiercest guards. The next generation of defenders who will protect me until your services are no longer needed, like the ones who came before you who protected my mother.” She glanced over at Totopeko and smiled warmly, knowing after they’ve settled in, he would be able to retire, own land, and marry. “You will be my shadow. My shield. My sword. I will not eat, sleep, or travel without you at my side. You will enter every room before me. Taste every dish before me. Drink from every cup before me. And stand between me and every stranger. Every order will be followed without question, for you are now an extension of myself. My mistakes, my misjudgments, my insecurities… you will project them all. Do you understand?”

“Yes milady!” They all answered in unison, harmonizing remarkably well.

“You will defend my honor with your lives. You will protect me from all manner of harm. No matter the threat to your own safeties. My life is paramount. Do you understand?” She asked, standing before them.

“Yes milady!” They repeated.

“This responsibility is a great and terrible burden. You will be in service far longer than your brothers. I will not force this task upon you if you do not wish it. Any or all of you may leave now and return to your posts if you so choose. I will not hold it against you.” This part made Leleni nervous; she’s heard stories of all five chosen knights rising to their feet and leaving. If that happened to her, she would never live that shame down. “Do you understand?”

“Yes milady!” None of the knights moved an inch, putting one of her worst fears to rest; already she felt far more relaxed and comfortable around them. More than that… she felt safe. She approached Guard Captain Totopeko and he lifted his sword in response. Her tiny hand wrapped around the glimmering silver hilt, and with a gentle pull, she freed the blade from its sheath.

Leleni approached the first knight, tapping him on either shoulder. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” The knight grimaced as he trembled, with a tear rolling down his cheek. She smiled before taking a gentle step to the right to stand before the next one. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” His face was still, but his faint smile betrayed his joy. She nodded at him before stepping to the right again. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” This knight almost fell over, his hand quickly shooting up to rub the snot away from his sniffling nose; he was a wreck, starting life as a good-for-nothing thief, now achieving the highest honor he could ever imagine. Leleni beamed at him, with each tap of his shoulder almost dropping the man. Then she stepped in front of Zoronado. He opened his eyes to see her pearl-tipped heels poking out from beneath her gold and ebony dress. “I name you the Bulwark of Leleni Leni.” He felt the tip of the blade tap his shoulderguards one by one. He closed his eyes as tightly as he could to will away the temptation, but he couldn’t resist. Zoronado opened his eyes and glanced upward so he may bear witness to her beauty.

Her hair was the color of honey, flowing locks of a dazzling blonde that draped over her shoulders and cascaded down her body. Her skin was fair – the fairest he had ever seen; with reddening cheeks as soft and round as a baker’s dozen of freshly made wheat buns. He found himself staring deep into her soft green eyes, his jaw wide open like a dead fish, his breath and heart both stopped. Zoronado did the unthinkable; he peeked under his Lady’s hood and saw upon her fair maiden face before her betrothed did. Such an act would put most men in the black cells… but not him. Not this time. Leleni stood there in silence, unsure of what to do or what to say. So they both stared at each other, until Zoronado managed to close his dry mouth and drop his unblinking gaze back to her tiny feet.

The following night was their first mission, but nothing short of the greatest celebration any of them had ever seen. The entire island was out here in force, spilling out of the grand cathedral with camps and tents stretching out as far as the eyes could see. Zoronado stopped counting after two thousand, his focus redoubled to protecting his lady. Clad in thick blue steel and armed with heavy shields and sharpened blades, the Bulwark of Leleni Leni guided the Maiden through the gathering crowds of the common folk to her wedding. Her carriage was showered with flowers and confetti; a blinding cloud to be sure, at least it would have been without their helmets. Slowly they marched, two in front, three behind, until the carriage stopped at the bottom of the cathedral steps.

“Shields up!” Zoronado shouted over the chorus of cheers, and the Bulwark shuffled into a testudo formation at the carriage door. None were allowed to gaze upon her veil until she was at the altar. Leleni Leni stepped down from her cushioned seat, her polished shoes tapped against the cold stone step. She reached out and slipped her fingers into Zoronado’s grasp before being gently pulled into her personal guard. A Bulwark moved to close the gap as soon as she was inside, and the bubble of raised shields slowly moved up, protecting her from every angle and blocking her from sight.

Her uncle was waiting in the lobby. Kukutowi Yamatowi was on the verge of tears when the testudo formation broke like an egg and his niece appeared from behind the lowering shields. “Uncle Towi?” She started, more confused than anything. “What are you doing…? Where is father?”

“He is attending a meeting, my beautiful niece.” Kukutowi answered, bowing gracefully. “But he sent me to walk you down the aisle myself.” His sweet smile faltered when his gaze shot to her entourage. “Make sure no one enters. This day needs to be perfect!”

“Yes sir!” Zoronado turned to his four companions. “You two at the entrance, you two patrolling the hallways. I’ll keep watch from the balc-”

“No.” Leleni smiled at him through her veil; by most accounts she appeared happy, but her twinkling eyes told a different story. “You will walk me down the aisle instead.”

“Yes milady!”

The color drained from Kukutowi’s face. “What?! Preposterous! Your father-!”

“-isn’t here when I need his support the most.” She watched his pale face turn bright red with anger, from the bottom of his neck to the tips of his pointed ears.

“Now see here…!” Her uncle only made it one step forward before her knights turned to face him, with all five gripping the hilts of their swords; one more step closer and he would risk his own life. Kukutowi gulped dryly as he stared at the armored guards, helpless to protest this insult. He was almost tempted to call her bluff, but he wasn’t a gambling man. They were sworn to Leleni – not him; her word overrides all others, and with a single command and a passing thought her bulwark wouldn’t hesitate to spill his blood on her wedding day.

“Go take your seat.” She glanced over at one of her other knights. “See to it that he doesn’t get lost.” Her uncle glared daggers at Zoronado when he removed his helmet and offered the bride his arm. Leleni didn’t even bother acknowledging his continued presence when a knight opened a side door and pushed the mumbling man through. Once he was out of sight and mind Zoronado began the long walk escorting her to her imminent husband. They both closed their eyes when the music swelled. They focused on putting one foot before the other, slowly walking past the audience that lacked both the manners and tact to keep their thoughts to themselves.

Leleni heard their whispers regarding Zoronado. “Who was this person? Where is Lord Diditusho? Why is this lowborn escorting Lady Leleni? Did something happen? Where is her father? Why is one of her knights guiding her?” Furtively the bride glanced over to see if they were affecting him, but his face was as still as stone, and his eyes remained forward and focused. A gentle smile danced along her lips before her gaze returned to the other end of the aisle. The groom, Nonobira Halabira, neither noticed nor cared who was escorting his wife; his beady brown eyes were fixed on the fairest Lalafell he had ever seen. Once they were close enough to touch, Leleni released her soft grip on Zoronado’s arm, and took the last three steps alone to stand by his side. Just as he was commanded, Zoronado knelt alongside the front row of the ceremony, still standing somewhat in the aisle; he remained close, heavily armed, and ready to move in and protect his lady at a moment’s notice. Watching this stranger slowly lift her veil to reveal her face made him feel things he wasn’t prepared for. He was overjoyed, but not content, with pinging spikes of longing and yearning when he listened to her speak her vows.

And when he kissed her and sealed their oaths, and the audience rose to their feet with a roaring cheer and a deafening applause, all Zoronado felt was guilt. Guilt… and envy.

It was all he could think about during the reception. He stood in silent vigil at her side while it felt like every Lalafell in existence approached her dining table to shower her with gifts and praise. He was lucky to have his helmet – the last thing he wanted to do was spoil her big day with the scowl plastered across his face. He’s been to receptions just like this one his entire life; this place was filled to the brim with mutton-munching mooks masquerading as money-making masterminds, but even at his seventeenth summer, he knew better. These ‘aristocrats’ were as real as their compliments. Every single one of them would throw Leleni to the wolves or toss her body into the sea if it benefited them. The Bulwark kept a close eye on each and every one that approached her, and she never opened any of these gifts herself.

It was morning by the time he was able to get some sleep. Even with the sum of his training and discipline, he couldn’t sit still and keep guard over their chambers as they consummated their marriage; every noise he heard whispering through the thin wooden door was enough to drive him insane, so he instead traded places with a knight-kin and spent the night walking through the cathedral until four or five bells later, once he was certain the deed was done and over. Zoronado returned to his post and leaned up against the wall, locked his knees, and did his best to catch at least a few bells of sleep before the sun stirred the newlyweds. He closed his eyes for what felt like the longest blink of his life, before the door gently opened and jerked him awake.

“Zoro…” Leleni whispered, her voice dry and scratchy. “… water.”

“Yes milady.” He answered in a hushed tone, hoping he didn’t wake up her husband. He turned on his heel and briskly walked down the hallway, making a beeline straight to the kitchens of the keep. He found a pitcher of ice water, drank a cupful to ensure it wasn’t poisoned, and was halfway through pouring a second glass when he heard the soft patter of bare feet approaching behind him. Zoronado turned to see his lady staggering towards him, her beautiful blonde hair lazily tied into a ponytail, and her pajamas all twisted and poorly worn. Seeing her out of her normal attire was a definite shock – he almost didn’t recognize normal attire was definitely a shock – he almost didn’t recognize the woman if it weren’t for her green eyes. She still remained far and above the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“I have something to ask of you.” Leleni mumbled, shambling toward the pitcher like a zombie. “You heard me right… I said ask of you. And I want you to speak plainly. We can drop the formalities when it’s just us talking.”

“Yes milady.” Zoronado handed her the cup of water and stood by to patiently watch her chug it down; she really was thirsty.

“I want to go to Eorzea. I want to see the sights. I want to know what it’s like on that continent of giants.” She pushed the cup back into his grasp so he could refill it for her. “… but I can’t.”

“One day, milady.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Why not ask your father to let you go?”

She eyed Zoronado up and down before leaning against the counter. “Uncle told him what happened. Father is furious that I insulted our family by making you walk me down that aisle. He wants you stripped of your rank and thrown into the underbelly cells.”

“I will gladly accept any punishment your father sees fit.” He was quick to speak, causing her to pause mid-gulp. “If imprisonment is the price for my loyalty… so be it.”

“I don’t want that.” Leleni shrugged, chewing on an ice cube. “What I want is for you to go to Eorzea in my stead. Experience everything the mainland has to offer. Keep me informed of anything interesting. Enjoy the freedom and I’ll live vicariously through your exploits.”

“Yes milady.” Zoronado answered without hesitation.

“Really?” The woman raised a brow at him. “No thoughts? No questions? No concerns at all?”

“It’s a quest, milady.” He snapped to attention and delivered a crisp salute. “I will not fail you. Pictures, new recipes, strange animals… I’ll do everything I can to help you see the world, even if it’s not through your own eyes.”

A bright smile flashed across her face, electrifying him with an overwhelming surge of joy and pride. “Thank you Zoronado Tatanado. Thank you for being my champion.”

[raxwel-blythe]

DWC - Day 30 - Ceremony/Catastrophic

It didn’t happen very often...but every once in the while he did have to wonder if he’d taken things a bit too far.

It wasn’t supposed to be a particularly difficult job - in fact, he hadn’t thought the man was serious when he approached him with the proposition in the first place.

“...I need you to rob a priest.”

Raxwel paused, slowly setting his drink down and taking a moment before lacing his fingers together and setting his chin on top. “I’m sorry...you want me to what?”

“Rob a priest...well, not just any priest, the bishop, actually.”

“The fellow who essentially lives in the cathedral in Stormwind. That guy. You want me to break in and rob that guy.”

“Yes.”

Raxwel chuckled as he lifted his head and let his hands fall to the table. “Let’s say I take this job, if for nothing else than for the sake of entertainment - what the hell would I be looking for?”

“He...has letters. Written by my sister...in response to letters that he sent, but no one is going to see those...and I’d like them back...before he finds a reason to publish them.”

“Okay...so sister made some poor life choices and you’re cleaning up the mess - quick question, friend. The cathedral, well...the living quarters of the cathedral, aren’t exactly easily accessible. You have a time frame when you’d like for this to happen.”

“Um...yes, actually.” The young man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “...There’s a wedding ceremony planned for this weekend. Some big to-do merchant marrying a much younger woman…the whole thing is arranged and a big deal and anyone with more money than sense is going to be there.”

“You have feelings for said woman?”

“W-what?? No! Why would you think that?”

The answer was too quick...and his voice went up an octave. “You do - you practically squeaked trying to answer me, but alright, we’ll assume what you say is true and it’s an arranged type thing and a whole bunch of people are going to be there...which also means good old bishop...what’s his face is going to have to put on a good show, which means the living quarters might be accessible...that it?”

“...Yes.”

Raxwel lifted his glass taking a looong sip. “Not good enough. I might need more time, and I’m not going to risk my neck for what you’ve offered as payment. But - before you start begging. I do have an idea...but you’re going to have to do some leg work.” He grinned as he set his glass down.

Several days later - the papers of Stormwind were abuzz with news related to the wedding...or what would have been a wedding had everyone involved not come down with a sudden and extreme case of the stomach flu.

Some blamed the caterers, some blamed the waters that had been provided - as it was unseasonably warm within the cathedral that day, some said it was something within the mints that were provided - but very few believed that was actually the case (it was actually the case).

In the end, it didn’t matter. The ceremony itself was canceled after the groom shit himself and the bishop proceeded to vomit before the bride had even arrived.

A complete and utter catastrophe - for everyone except Raxwel...and by extension, his employer, as in all the commotion he had plenty of time to not only search the bishop's living quarters, but also find the letters in question...and then a little bit more for the next time the bishop decided to throw his weight around.

Raxwel chuckled as he set the paper down and returned to his breakfast. In his mind...things couldn’t have gone better.

After all...he wasn’t the one who had to clean everything up.

@daily-writing-challenge