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dragon-fics · 5 years ago

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S&H: Ch. 24 The Big Day

Chapter summary: Molten and Zion finally get to have their big day.

Notes, Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8, Ch. 9, Ch. 10, Ch. 11, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15, Ch. 16, Ch. 17, Ch. 18, Ch. 19, Ch. 20, Ch. 21, Ch. 22, Ch. 23, Ch. 24, Ch. 25, Ch. 26, Ch. 27

Molten combed his damp hair slowly. Fireworks erupted in his stomach as the teeth ran through his strands of hair. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black suit trousers—the most formal thing he had worn since Ember’s christening. He stared back at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was ten in the morning, just an hour before he’d be standing in front of the altar, waiting for his beloved Zion to arrive.

He thought back to his early days of being a DJ, how he’d often be around wedding parties. He remembered how happy the newlyweds looked, sitting side by side at their table. He hoped that Zion and he would be that happy today.

Once he felt he had fixed his hair enough, he entered his hotel room. On the bed lay his suit jacket, tie and a set of horn cuffs—a piece of jewellery worn by married dragons. This set was silver, with a gold band above below the silver on the band. An icy blue sapphire set in each, to match Zion’s engagement ring. The rings matched the wedding ring Zion would give Molten today—it just wouldn’t have a stone in it. Their ring bearer—Kate—had their wedding rings. It just so happened Zion forgot the horn cuffs. And by Roanain tradition, neither groom could see the other during the week up to the wedding. So Molten was begging that fate would let them give the rings to Kate before the wedding began.

Molten picked up the white box and looked in at the velvet embraced jewellery. He blew on the cuffs and clicked his fingers. A small blue flame ignited between his fingertips. The silver and gold reflected the blue light shiningly, while the sapphire reflected it glowingly. He nodded approvingly at their shine and closed the box. He placed the box back down and started on his tie.

“Molten?,” called Flame from outside the room. “We’d better get moving soon; just remember that we still have to travel to Askel.” He strode into the room as Molten fiddled with the tie. He sighed quietly and did it for him. “You nervous?” he asked.

“A little,” Molten admitted.

“Good,” Molten looked at his sire, confused. “It means you care about him—” he pulled the knot tight “—and that you’re in love." Molten pulled on his jacket and Flame brushed it off. “Now, we better get going,” he said, grabbing the jewellery box and leaving the room.

“Right,” Molten whispered. He spun on the spot, looking around the room before leaving.

The next time I’ll be entering this room, I’ll be carrying Zion in my arms.

*-*-*-*

Zion sat in front of his dresser, a hairdresser trimming his blonde strands. Under the hairdressing cape, he twiddled his thumbs, fighting the urge to mess with his hair out of nervousness. He allowed the hairdresser to finish and leave the room before standing up. He was nervous, excited and anxious. He knew he loved Molten, and he knew Molten loved him. He just wasn’t sure if it was the right step. He was 25, Molten 24. A year after they had moved into their new house, two years since Molten proposed and three years since they’d met.

His thoughts interrupted as his sire entered the room. Already dressed in his best of royal suits.

“I knocked,” Arryn said.

“Sorry, I just...”

“Panicking?”

“... Yeah.”

“Don’t. I’ve seen how you two look at each other, how you are together. And I know for a fact you’ll be both very happy today,” he said softly, fixing Zion’s white tie around his black shirt collar. “And I’m sure he’s just as nervous as you are right now.” He rested his hands on Zion’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “And I know she’d be happy for you.”

Zion knew who he was talking about; his dam, who was rarely ever mentioned. He gripped his sire a little tighter. “Thank you.”

And then they were interrupted by another knock on the door.

“That would be your maid of honour,” Arryn said, as he they released their embrace. “And don’t forget your crown,” he said, leaving the room.

As soon as her sire had left, Mona rushed into the room, seeing Zion in only his white suit trousers and black shirt.

“You jacket and tie?!” She exclaimed in a rush. “Have you seen the time?! And we still have to get to the church through the massive crowd of people who want to see a royal wedding!” She was practically yelling at him.

“Alright, I’ll hurry.”

*-*-*-*

Molten stood in front on the huge white alter at the front of the Roanian church. A mass of mumbling echoed through the church filled with high lords of Roania, Molten’s family, and journalists. Compared to the Wyrmian churches, the stone wasn’t laced with gold wire embroidery or scattered with gems, instead it was engraved with messages in Old or New Roana—the native language of Roania—or basic tongue. There were also pictures from their religious book, which—after a bit of inspection on Molten’s part—wasn’t very different to the Wyrmian religious book.

It was about ten minutes past eleven, ten minutes behind schedule. And Molten really wasn’t sure what to do. Not much could’ve gone wrong. Right? He had got from the hotel in north Shovania to the church without running into crowds. Then again, he came from Wyrmia, not Roania. And he knew Zion’s sisters wouldn’t let him fall behind schedule... Well, not by a huge amount, anyway.

He glanced back to his family sitting in the front row, unease resting on his face.

“Relax,” CJ whispered beside him, He was his best man. “He wouldn’t do this purposefully.”

“I know, I know,” Molten whispered back, but his voice contradicted his words. Then the muttering was silenced. Molten looked around. The royal families of both Roania and Wyrmia had arrived; this wedding was more than a show of love between a couple, it was a sign of peace between two segregated countries. While the families settled Molten saw Kate take the jewellery box from Flame.

At least that’s sorted(I), CJ said to him. Molten smiled and drew in a breath.

Then the organist played Bridal Chorus. Molten had never felt so relieved at the sound of an organ play.

About time!

He saw CJ’s lips curl.

A lifetime seemed to pass as Zion walked up the aisle, Mona by his side. He wore his white suit proudly, along with his silver crown. What Molten didn’t know was coming was that Zion had taken some artistic liberties in wearing a shoulder-length veil, because same-sex weddings weren’t traditional, and that there were no rules in place.

So when he joined Molten at the alter, Molten was somewhat surprised, but he liked it.

“Hey,” Molten whispered as the Archbishop made his way out.

“Hi.”

*-*-*-*

The ceremony itself wasn’t all that long, a basic wedding ceremony, but what happened after took the more time than expected. Pictures. Goddamn pictures. The one thing Zion and Molten hated more than anything else in the world. But they had expected it, and Molten had brought his iconic shades, so there wasn’t much worry on that part. But the newlyweds still had to pose for dozens of photos, say thank you to the high lords and royal family of Wyrmia, sign autographs and had to make their way to their Rolls Royce stretch limo. The ceremony and escape route took the better part of an hour, and Molten was sure his family had escaped unscathed long before that. Well, he hoped, because they were never as keen on paparazzi either, and no fan truly knew who Molten’s family was—apart from Mona.

It took another hour to get to the reception at the hotel Molten had stayed in the night before. Most of the guests were already there, chatting away, so the couple freshened up quickly before they had to face the crowd.

The couple stood in front of the door for a moment as Molten unlocked with his key card. As soon as it was open he turned to Zion, a somewhat devilish look on his face.

“Go on,” Zion sighed. No sooner as Molten got permission, he scooped Zion up and carried him—bridal style—into the room. He then placed him down.

“So what dis hold you up?” Molten asked, checking his tie in the mirror.

Zion nudged him over a bit, so he could fix his crown and hair after removing the veil. “I got distracted by my dear sire, that and the hairdresser took forever.”

“In other words; you slept in? Or you procrastinated? Which?”

“I hate you,” he said, looking up at Molten. He looked back down at him.

“No, you don’t. Otherwise we won’t be wearing matching rings.” He smirked. Zion snorted, but his lips curled into a smile. Molten pressed his lips against Zion’s.

“I think we have some guests to see to,” Molten said.

“Ugh,” Zion groaned. “Fine.” He said starting towards the door. At the last second, he picked up his veil. “Can you put it in for me?” Molten took the veil from him and slid the ‘comb’ into Zion’s hair behind his crown.

“That ok?”

Zion tapped the veil. “Yeah, I think so.” As they left the room and started down the corridor, Zion slid his hand into Molten’s. “So us your war veteran, racist, homophobic, sexist grandsire gonna be here?” He asked.

Molten sighed. “Yep, but after our last encounter with him, I think he knows that today is the worst day to voice his opinions.” Zion smiled.

“But we are going to kick him out if it happens?” Molten looked at him.

He hesitated. “I... I.”

Zion laughed. “We’ll just try to enjoy today,” Zion stopped in front of Molten. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” He pecked Zion’s nose. They looked at the double doors to the ballroom. They could hear the bubbling atmosphere inside. Molten walked in, still holding Zion’s hand, but didn’t go straight for the guests, instead going towards the tiny appetisers laid out on a line of tables.

“Molten!” Zion hissed.

*-*-*-*

It had been a few hours since the meal had started. Molten and Zion had escaped for a few minutes onto the jetty by the ballroom. The air near the sea was cooler than that of the city, and the sun held a warm evening-like glow almost constantly at this place in Wyrmia.

The sound of water lapping up against the wooden posts of the jetty tickled Zion’s ears as they both faced the water. Molten held his arm around Zion’s waist. He nuzzled his hair to get his attention, before spinning him around, as if they were dancing, to face him. Zion looked up at him and looked at him to say he wanted to tell him something. Molten leaned his ear close to his mouth.

“I think its time for the cake,” he said.

Molten laughed. “Yeah, I suppose so.” Zion tugged Molten back towards the ballroom.

The cake stood on its own table beside the head table where both of their families sat. One side of the cake was black with white sheet music printed on the icing, the other was white, with black speckles on the icing, to represent stars. The divide between the colours was a curve, hidden by flowers made of icing, all lined up to look like a rainbow—or as others might see it, the stereotypical pride flag. The colour either side of the cake represented the grooms’ suit, and the printed music notes and stars represented their passions.

They made their way towards the cake. They went for a piece from the divide in the cake. They went for a 5 tier cake, each tier was a Victoria sponge. Most of the room took photos or a video of them cutting it. So once they were done, they took it back with them. The waiters cut and dispersed the cake. They seemed to relax a bit.

“Just out of interest,” Lika started, “Is this an actual song or is it a random mix of notes?” She asked as she ate her piece.

“It’s an actual song,” Molten assured.

“What’s it called?” Came Sarabi.

“What was my last album called?”

Mona squealed with her mouth closed. “That’s adorable.”

Zion looked at him questioningly.

“He doesn’t know your album name?” CJ asked.

“My dear husband isn’t so keen on my mixed music style.”

Zion looked to Mona.

“The title of his album and one of his songs was called Zion.” She said, looking to Molten. He smiled, embarrassed.

“I had to alright?” he said at Zion’s dumbfounded face.

Mona slapped Zion on the back. “How did you(I)—” she poked his chest “—not know that?”

Zion raised his hands up in defence. “I have my taste in music!”

“He’s your fiancé-now-husband!”

Molten chuckled at the twins’ argument. Zion whipped his head around at Molten.

“Aren’t you gonna defend me?”

Molten sighed and shrugged. He turned to the DJ, who had been playing soft music in the background. He gestured for him to play their song. The DJ nodded and Molten stood up.

“C’mon,” he said, holding out his hand. Zion smiled a little and took his hand. As they walked passed Molten’s family, Molten flicked Ember’s hair, making her giggle. They walked onto the dancefloor, in between the DJ and the guests.

“Ready?” He whispered.

“As I’ll ever be.”

#Scales and Hooves

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