Floating - 8/31/08
Main Characters: Daine / Numair
Summary: Little drabble about Numair and Daine finally getting married. Happy fluff.
Numair Salmalín traced his fingers softly over his wife's stomach. A small patch of skin showed from between her uplifted shirt and the blanket that she'd kicked off in the night. Smiling a little to himself, he thought it over again: his wife.
Well, later today, she would be his wife. Not that he would change his thinking on it; in spirit at least, she'd been his wife for much longer, and body, for that matter. The sun's peeking rays danced on the blankets as the cloudbank on the shore moved. It had dawned a cloudy day, water thick on the air as it caressed the shore.
Daine stretched under his hand, rolling closer to him with bleary eyes. "Mm."
Brushing his hand over her stomach softly, Numair murmured under his breath, "Sleep, dear." She needed it, he knew. She'd been up with a sick colt for most of the night in the stable. He would live, thankfully, but it had taken a lot out of her to heal him. Daine's eyes closed and she nodded, snuggling closer to him.
Marriage, what a land mark in his life. Pulling the blankets up over his shoulder, covering Daine's creamy skin, he kissed her forehead.
The private gathering had gone well, which had been a few evenings before. Now it was time for the actual wedding; cake and dancing and singing and him getting dressed up like a husband, instead of a mage. It had been strange to him to plot his wedding outfit; he was so used to attending functions when he was a guest of honor, or better, a friend. This wedding thing required a much different attire, though, and he was glad George had lent him a hand in it all. He was confused beyond all reason when it came to clothing. If it fit, covered what needed to be, and was comfortable, who cared? He'd asked George. George had laughed and replied (emphatically): "Women!"
So he and George picked his clothing with great care, and he got his hair trimmed. It had been looking a little rag-tag, not that Daine would ever notice. She wasn't that type of woman, at all.
But goddess, how he loved her.
Years, he'd given her years, and now he finally had convinced her to say she would be his and he would be hers. With a content sigh, Numair pulled her closer. Today was going to be a big day.
The day dawned early and cold for Daine. A fall wedding, she'd insisted. On the equinox, when her mother and father would be able to attend. The forest surrounding the castle was gorgeous, oranges and brilliant reds as the trees cast on their prettiest foliage of the year. The stolid evergreens watched on, scenting the air with a hint of winter's promise.
Not that Daine had any time to notice the beauty; she was busy dressing, and giggling, and hugging her mother. She had visited as she'd promised, but no matter how much time she spent with her parents, she could never get enough of them. There was too much about them she had to learn, relearn, and, they were still getting used to her. Her mother still stole her breeches and replaced them with dresses, but not as often now.
Today she was wearing a dress. Her mother (and Alanna) had been very insistent. Pale blue, Alanna had said, to set off her eyes. Her mother had agreed, and then it had been days of standing and fitting, finding and sizing and goddess knows what else. Daine had been along for the ride, letting the others go as they wanted.
Alanna had given her a 'just because' wedding gift; a lovely strand of faintly blue pearls and sapphires; small, elegant, and costly. No matter how she had voiced against it, Alanna had fought her. "It's your wedding, Daine. This is your day. Take it."
She had, and now as she stood before the Goddess' altar, she swallowed hard. All eyes were on her, her dress shimmering in the afternoon light. Breaks of sun would splash, lighting up her dress. A wide scoop neck showed her new necklace off, glimmering all the while, cream toned skin flashing. The sleeves were thin, with wisps of blue gossamer, the bodice clinging to all her curves before flowing gently into a skirt of graceful layers.
Daine had never appreciated the real beauty of it. Her eyes were locked on Numair's. He had watched her walk up the aisle, her father and mother with their arms entwined with hers. Weiryn had nodded to Numair with a small smile, and Sarra had hugged him, placing Daine's hand gently into his. When they retreated, the priestess recited her prayers and blessing.
Numair barely heard. Daine's hand was warm in his, the dress catching all his attention. She was stunning. And now she was his. To protect and cherish, to love and care for… he swallowed hard. The dip in the dress, the way it hugged her, the flush in her cheeks as she watched him with those big eyes of hers.
"… the Goddess now recognizes this union as binding and lasting, and to each falls the care of the other, as befitting two so obviously in love." The stray from the usual ending words regained Daine and Numair's attention, a blush on his cheeks as he nodded to the priestess in acknowledgement. "So mote it be," she said with finality, the rest of the temple murmuring it softly.
His eyes for Daine, and only Daine, he wrapped his trembling hands around her waist, kissing her gently. "I love you."
A soft content sigh came from Daine as she smiled up at him. "I love you too. Can we find some food now? I'm starving."
With a chuckle, he turned to the crowd who was coming to congratulate them, and bowed. "My wife demands food! I need sweet bread!" With a grin, he took Daine's hand, and walked to her parents, finally man and wife.
A/N: I'm alive. Sorta. Drabbled this awhile ago, finally uploading for you all. I couldn't remember if I'd uploaded it or not. I'll try to get some more stuff up later; maybe work on Love's Promise or Paper Faces. Blah. Over and out.