Authors Note: Hey, I'll try to update a couple times. I've been swamped because I'm staring more stories and I've just realized that's harder than it looks to juggle a budding writing career, high school, and life. But, I think I'm managing. So, this chapter is mainly about Leeta's wedding and how their culture performs such a joyous ceremony; it's mostly about culture. A lot of them are actual customs from different parts of the world. Because, hey, who knows when we'll see it again.

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Her toes touched the tip of the stairs, curled in as her foot arched as if she were walking on glass. Skin met concrete briefly, evanescent in its quest to begin the day. Her eyes, darkened, focused on the ground as she walked, her hands held out in front of her bobbing in the empty air. Her limber fingers, intricate lines on the pads sticking mechanically to the clay, wound around a small cup, tightly gripped against her palm. She walked cautiously; the liquid confined inside sloshed to the sides, a drip or so seeping over the brim and splattering to the ground.

She rounded the corner, leaving the stairs in her wake, and proceeded down the hall towards the extensive kitchen. She found it empty. Grateful for the few minutes she would have alone before re-entering society. In ten minutes she would be escorted to the small house on the boundaries of city where Leeta was waiting. Waiting for her best friend to consul her and advise her, whisper words of wisdom that was passed down to her from her mother. Neither knew if these promises and insurance's were true, but it was soothing. After being clothed in the appropriate dress, she would leave Leeta alone until they met again at the actual ceremony. Ari would hand Leeta off.

She gazed at the horizon, marveling the setting sun dying away to the west, falling behind the lines of the trees. The orange glow reverberated off her face, tinting her chestnut eyes. Her fingers set down the clay cup on the counter then held the counter edge for support, grasping the lifeline that would bind her to her house and keep her solid. Today was just one more day closer to her own crucifixion. She would stand there; forcing herself to drown out the words that wove her to her death named Crawl.

The heat radiated from the fading sun stung her face, the overwhelming light blinding her. She closed her eyes; she couldn't escape. Her eyelids were sewn shut and a clip played on the big screen. She watched; she watched herself walking down the hall, murmuring words that she was going to attempt to communicate to Leo. She watched herself stop as noise from within found her. She watched herself peak through the door's slit, finding Leo in a compromising position. She watched herself react, scowling as her eyes drew wide and her lips parted in a form of disbelief. She watched the betrayal and hurt spread across her face. She watched her retreating back fade to black.

The sun sunk lower, pulling the light with it like a mother guiding its child. She pried her eyes open gratefully and swallowed the lump in her throat. Emotions she'd never experienced before had become allies since she'd first met Leo, but the anger she felt against Daena and the disappointment she pitted against herself were new. She was furious with Daena for being the little manipulator she was, scurrying in on the one thing she knew Ari still loved so she could gloat in her face. But she was disappointed with herself for doubting the human; she let Daena in. She paralleled herself to Daena, unfortunately coming in last. Leo chose her; he left her. She couldn't blame him, not after what she did to him.

Her pensive musings were shattered. The thud of feet entering the kitchen perked her ears. She turned slightly, craning her neck around her shoulder to see the visitor. She suspected it to be Birn, but in walked Daena. Her head was held high, a mysterious smile on her lips, as she glided across the room. Simian and human dried each others company in silence. The silence was too much for Daena.

"Aren't you supposed to have left already? For the wedding?" she asked.

Ari looked at her, noting how her smile hadn't vanished. She was boasting. "I'm about to." Ari cleared her throat, spinning around so she was facing Daena. "How's Leo?"

Daena didn't even move to hide her smile. "He's better…now."

"You sound like you personally cured him of something." Ari bit out, grinding her teeth together.

Daena shrugged. "I did more than you think." She paused, inching forward. "Does that bother you?" Ari didn't answer. She wanted to hiss out a denial but she couldn't manage it. Daena smiled. "Good because, let's face it, you're an ape, he's a human. It wouldn't work out. He needs to be with his own species." Daena lightly patted Ari's cheek; she stiffened. "Don't get any ideas."

Daena brushed past Ari, leaving her words to sting at Ari. Ari spun around, catching Daena's swaying hair thrashing on her back. "He is not a trophy to be won!" she exclaimed.

Daena flashed a smirk over her shoulder, suggesting otherwise. Ari shook her head, her tongue developing a mal taste that soured her mouth. Daena was poison, infecting everyone until they wielded to her power.

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The house was tradition. It symbolized the last few hours of independence for any female simian. The four stone walls had soaked in years of desolate time, numerous conversations exchanged between the captors, enough stories. A line of females had resided in this room on their wedding day; the tears they only cried in private on this day embedded in the rough. It was tattooed. It was a plain house, permanently decorated this way to show the female about the future coming, set on the boundary of the city. Only three people were allowed in at a time. Only two resided today.

Leeta's posture was judgmental, her eyes roving over her reflection in the mirror as her hands stroked the fabric. The bridal outfit consisted of a lehnga, and two sari's. The gray lehnga symbolized security and reliability of what was to come. The red and white sari—several yards of light cloth that form a veil—were heavily embroidered with gold thread. Ari tugged at the hem of the cloth, spreading it over her feet, then stood up. She remained behind Leeta, staring at her friend in the mirror. The two hadn't talked much since Ari had arrived; she didn't know what to say. Tomorrow she would herself be doing this so she knew she had to try.

She clasped her hand on Leeta's shoulder. "You can do this."

Leeta smiled. "I know I can. Question is,"—she looked at Ari from the mirror—"can you?"

Ari shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

Leeta's shoulders dragged. "Ari—"

Ari back away and went through examining her own appearance. She'd changed into something similar to Leeta, but her lehnga was colorful and vibrant, the cloak of someone betrothed. She smoothed her hands over it. Why couldn't people just leave the subject alone; did no one understand how sensitive it was? "Can you not? The last I thing is someone else telling me that it's impossible, to stop fanaticizing about him. It's the last thing I need from someone right now…the last thing I want." She said the last part in a slow drawl.

Leeta frowned and turned in a circle, the fabric snagging under her feet. "We're just trying to look after you."

"I understand, but please let me decide that for myself. Leave the matters of my heart to me."

Leeta nodded, fully understanding her reluctance. Ari had always been unyielding when it came to things she wanted, but she was always averse when it came to things she didn't want forced upon her. She stepped off the stage and hugged Ari, squeezing her, praising a silent assurance. She drew back, but kept her hands in their place. Ari held up a finger and lifted the sari's from the chair they had been draped over. It's customary for the groom's family to provide the wedding sari as a present so the bride may be wearing two saris for the ceremony. She held out the first, the simple silk red sari from her uncle symbolizing fertility, and gently placed it over Leeta's bowed head, covering her hair. The groom's sari was white for purity and more heavily embroidered; it came next, fitting perfectly over the companion sari.

Ari stood back and basked in Leeta's beauty. She really did fit the description of a blushing bride. She bound her hands in a prayer form. She muttered a prayer. Leeta joined her. After, they both opened their eyes and they connected. "I have to go." Ari admitted, remembering that at any moment the seven traditional soldiers who took the bride to the altar would be marching in.

Leeta grasped onto Ari again, nodding. Ari gave her once over again, rechecking for any sore areas that'd hidden from her eyes. If manageable, this incident would run smoothly. Ari looked into Leeta's eyes just as she was about to walk out and scurry to her place; her eyes had glazed over. Ari recognized that look; she'd seen enough times portrayed in other female's eyes.

Leeta had transformed into the puppet she was trained to be.

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The outdoor ceremony was full when Ari made her impromptu arrival. The important city residents, including the selected military officials, honored guests and any political figure, were seated in chairs that undoubtedly scratched their bruising aches, lined in neat rows. Gentle prattle sheeted the audience, the bits of sarcasm rolling up to the fidgeting groom. Zela, shifting constantly as he concentrated on his feet rather than the laughs of his brother at his side or the sagacious words surly passed by Leeta's father. Ari looked around; Crawl was stationed next to her father, predictably discussing tomorrow's propaganda.

She continued her examination of the grounds. The remainder of the city, those not invited for front-row viewing, were scattered variously in the area. Clumps were cornered to the sides, gossiping behind closed palms, while others resounded in the rafters above, using their balconies as an auditorium. They sipped their drinks, relishing the short minutes they had left until their attention would be turned to the must-see event. The trees supple trunks served as a canopy, overlapping the arrangement with shade that blocked the still setting sun. As the sun dipped lower, a couple soldiers lit torches.

The stampede of soldiers feet could be heard, the jingling of their armor slapped against their bodies calling out like a battle cry. All heads turned; they were drawing closer. Ari could see Leeta in the center of the black ghosts; her head was tipped down. Her face fell. This wasn't right. The music rolled as Leeta reached Ari at the start of the blanketed aisle. There were no bridesmaids to walk ahead; there'd be no one but them.

Any other time a female's mother would walk her daughter down the aisle, but when the maternal branch was missing—as in Leeta's case—they descended to sister, then best friend, then to stranger. Leeta was lucky her best friend was a female; she couldn't accept being given away by someone she'd never met. Leeta looped her arm in Ari's but averted her eyes away. Ari stared at her as they declined down the aisle, shortening her own steps to match with Leeta's wavered walk. She moved like the puppet known to their society. She held her head high, a faint smile plastered on her lips to satisfy the glowering eyes standing.

She trained her eyes on Zela at the end. The friends reached him and Ari broke away, holding out Leeta's left hand in a guide to her next move. She stepped to the side; this was Leeta's show now. Leeta knelt down, crouching in a ball with all other parts tucked in; her left arm didn't follow. It extended out, supporting empty air. An offering. Ari watched Zela turn to Leeta's father—the priest in his daughter's wedding—and nodded. He accepted the offer. He took Leeta's hand and guided her up; he didn't let go.

The couple stared at each other as the father rambled through the necessary opening lines. There wasn't a book opened in his hands. He scoured the audience, all levels. "Are there any objections?"

No vocal disruption, not even a cough to shatter the silence. The priest smiled and continued. He turned and was handed a goblet; tribal scrawling carved around the sphere. He first handed it to Zela, who grasped it firmly. Without his eyes leaving Leeta, he took a sip of the ritual wine. He handed it to Leeta; she did the same. They repeated this again, passing it once more.

The goblet was handed back to the original carrier and a granite bowl with a small plunge. It was immediately transferred to Zela. The young orangutan wetted his right index finger with the red powder so it outlined the rings of the pads of his finger. He carefully dotted the powder on Leeta's forehead, firmly pressing it on so it wouldn't come apart like sand. Next came the most painful part of the binding.

The graying silverback withdrew a needle. This sort of branding partitioned the married or breeding females and males from the single ones. When the female and male were married off a purple ring would be pierced into one of their ears and when they bred it would be changed to red. Leeta hissed as the needle penetrated the sensitive skin of her left ear, digging her interminable nails into Zela's hand. Ari ground her teeth, forcing herself to remain stable through the most agonizing part. This section always particularly bothered her. Zela sucked in the pain with a sharp breath as his right ear was pierced. The rings were pinned into each newly acquired hole.

The goblet made a second appearance, fulfilling the last inch of its duty. As Zela took his last sip of the liquid, Ari observed the spastic movements of Leeta's fingers. They stretched out then crinkled in repeatedly. Her face flinched as this went on, but she tried to make it less noticeable. She was itching to fiddle with her earring, possible scratch it or touch the pain to transiently heal it. She paused long enough to drink from the goblet. She smiled at Zela, absorbing the words that now bound them as husband and wife. Relief washed over her; it was over.

Zela grabbed her hand and led her back down the aisle, sections of the crowd getting to their feet as the couple passed. They didn't applaud; it wasn't necessary.

Ari stood alone where she was, once surrounded by people, now alone. Her eyes were focused on the spot where Leeta had just stood. She'd be the center of the day tomorrow, she'd be standing there tomorrow…standing with the blood of the person she despised the most. She felt dizzy.

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