The bride and groom would like to extend their thanks...
Everything about the day seemed a bit brighter and a bit sharper than was usual. After almost three years of days that were, mostly, just like this one, that struck Maladicta as something worth noting. The clearing was changed, the growth of trees and grasses that had replaced the damage from the hurricane moving in different directions than it once had, but it was still recognizable as the spot upon which William de Worde had built his first residence on the island, that had then become Maladicta’s as well. Seemed rather an odd sort of thing to happen, really, her getting involved with, well, a human, and one of the enemy’s number, to boot, and a journalist above all. Knowing her, which she’d rather thought she did but had discovered, possibly, she didn‘t so much, it all seemed a bit unlikely. Unlikely might have been not strong enough a word. Bloody mad may have been more appropriate.
But that had been almost three years ago. Now, it all felt natural, made perfect sense. At least if one didn’t examine it too closely, and fortunately, given the events of the day, Maladicta had absolutely no ability to do so.
It was all so nicely dressed down, she felt. With the weather warm again, there couldn’t be much call for large dresses and three piece tuxedoes. Maladicta had opted to wear the simple1, pale-lilac silk dress that she’d had for ages with a pair similarly plain, crème canvas slippers. Easy. Done. As much as she would have loved to have forced Angua to wear something the color of sea-foam and possessing truly voluminous sleeves (as the box had been only too happy to offer up in a variety of offensive styles, lengths, and materials), the werewolf had gotten off easy with an equally inoffensive sheath dress of a slightly deeper purple. They’d made a fair go of attending each other’s hair, but werewolves had their own grooming issues and vampires didn’t, as a rule, ever need to groom. Thankfully Lady Sybil had been only too pleased to forcefully take over and even went so far as to adorn Maladicta’s loosely swept-back hair with a few fresh flowers. And then had calmed the bride and maid of honor down when they’d realized they’d totally forgot the bouquet things, and wasn’t that supposed to be important, because Lady Sybil had taken care of those, as well.
At the ceremony itself, straightforwardly arranged and, she assumed in a distant, bewildered way nicely attended, she managed to hold Geoffrey’s arm in a painful, vicelike grip for barely more than two and a half minutes before he wincingly got her to stop and, being her director and having said yes to walking her down the aisle2, said the few magic words to dispel what was tantamount to stage fright. Then there was walking. It was funny, but as she got closer, to the place Angua, Rupert, Vimes3 and William stood, the small feeling of being flustered that had persisted throughout the day dropped away, and she was just… walking. She grinned a bit at William, looked away only long enough to smile at Geoffrey before he went to sit, and then went… right back to grinning at William.
He looked good4.
This wasn’t so hard as all that. Even Vimes, who’d protested his assignment and, she would have figured, been gobs more uncomfortable up there than she was, seemed to be doing fine. He wasn’t even interrupting to ask if she was sure, which she thought was a nice touch. He’d probably get her afterward. And there were vows. Vows that had been agonized over for what felt like as long as they’d bloody known each other, vows that had had to be rewritten even after she’d thought she’d got them, because an integral component had been lost. It was still missing. All the more reason, then, she thought, hands resting in William’s.
“William, I need you. I, who prided myself on never needing anyone in my whole life, need your words, and your warmth, and I need everything behind those eyes and everything in that mind to keep me human. Because if you hadn't shown me how to be, if you hadn't shown me, however inadvertently, that I possessed a heart, and a soul that was capable of love, then I would have... missed things, that my life would have been unaccountably and, sadly, unknowingly bleak for being without. In the time I have known you, you have grown to be such an important component of who I am, a thought that should, that does, hold the power to send me running, and yet, I would stay. I would stay for as long I’m allowed, as long as we have. You have given me the strength to become what I would never have expected, or dreamed, or dared, and my life will be forever the better for it. William, you are my first love, and for being that, ultimately, I happily owe all of my love to you. Forever.”
“Maladicta, I can't imagine what life would be without you. Which might seem somewhat disingenuous of me to say, because, obviously, I can't, my imagination isn't up to it even if it were possible to have any idea what such a drastic change would be like. But it's not, it is nothing less than the fundamental truth; I can't, because I don't want to. My mind shies from the very idea of it. Because I've come to realize that no matter where I am, what I'm doing, I want you to be there; no matter what happens, if I have you in my life, I have something worthwhile, something precious; the knowledge that, no matter what misfortune falls upon me - us - we'll meet it together, weather any storms and come out the other side wiser for them, because I can wake up every day and know that the truth is I love you. I loved you yesterday, I love you today, I will love you tomorrow, and every day after that. This is only as temporary as we are, and while that may be more temporary than you once would have expected, I hope to make it worth it. I'll certainly try, because that's what we are; trying, every day, to be better than the last. And I promise to you that that is what our lives will be.”
The vows were immediately followed by a tiny hiccup in the program as Maladicta leaned up to catch her still-fiancé’s mouth and bat Angua’s hand lightly away at the gentle reminder that they weren’t at that part, yet, before she put her heels on the ground again. Then there were some questions she had to repeat, some ‘take thee’s and such, and then Vimes made the pronouncement and she was being swept up. Or possibly she hand flung herself forward. It was essentially impossible to say, but at any rate, then it was that part and, for the first time, married, they kissed.
The walk to the stage was fun, receiving congratulations and chatting with their guests, ducking Angua with her little hand held moving-pictures recording device. Rather a success, all around.
1But pleasing racy, in that the bits of it that were lace were not so much frilly as they were subtly revealing and the bow was not so much effulgent and bridal as it was there for reasons of decency.
2Which was looking suddenly and exceptionally long.
3Now things were turning just a bit surreal.
4This was, in fact, a contributing factor toward the present circumstances.
[Reception at the stage! Food, beverages, music- gathering post! The happy couple would like to thank their friends and peers for joining them on this very special if wholly unlikely day.]
But that had been almost three years ago. Now, it all felt natural, made perfect sense. At least if one didn’t examine it too closely, and fortunately, given the events of the day, Maladicta had absolutely no ability to do so.
It was all so nicely dressed down, she felt. With the weather warm again, there couldn’t be much call for large dresses and three piece tuxedoes. Maladicta had opted to wear the simple1, pale-lilac silk dress that she’d had for ages with a pair similarly plain, crème canvas slippers. Easy. Done. As much as she would have loved to have forced Angua to wear something the color of sea-foam and possessing truly voluminous sleeves (as the box had been only too happy to offer up in a variety of offensive styles, lengths, and materials), the werewolf had gotten off easy with an equally inoffensive sheath dress of a slightly deeper purple. They’d made a fair go of attending each other’s hair, but werewolves had their own grooming issues and vampires didn’t, as a rule, ever need to groom. Thankfully Lady Sybil had been only too pleased to forcefully take over and even went so far as to adorn Maladicta’s loosely swept-back hair with a few fresh flowers. And then had calmed the bride and maid of honor down when they’d realized they’d totally forgot the bouquet things, and wasn’t that supposed to be important, because Lady Sybil had taken care of those, as well.
At the ceremony itself, straightforwardly arranged and, she assumed in a distant, bewildered way nicely attended, she managed to hold Geoffrey’s arm in a painful, vicelike grip for barely more than two and a half minutes before he wincingly got her to stop and, being her director and having said yes to walking her down the aisle2, said the few magic words to dispel what was tantamount to stage fright. Then there was walking. It was funny, but as she got closer, to the place Angua, Rupert, Vimes3 and William stood, the small feeling of being flustered that had persisted throughout the day dropped away, and she was just… walking. She grinned a bit at William, looked away only long enough to smile at Geoffrey before he went to sit, and then went… right back to grinning at William.
He looked good4.
This wasn’t so hard as all that. Even Vimes, who’d protested his assignment and, she would have figured, been gobs more uncomfortable up there than she was, seemed to be doing fine. He wasn’t even interrupting to ask if she was sure, which she thought was a nice touch. He’d probably get her afterward. And there were vows. Vows that had been agonized over for what felt like as long as they’d bloody known each other, vows that had had to be rewritten even after she’d thought she’d got them, because an integral component had been lost. It was still missing. All the more reason, then, she thought, hands resting in William’s.
“William, I need you. I, who prided myself on never needing anyone in my whole life, need your words, and your warmth, and I need everything behind those eyes and everything in that mind to keep me human. Because if you hadn't shown me how to be, if you hadn't shown me, however inadvertently, that I possessed a heart, and a soul that was capable of love, then I would have... missed things, that my life would have been unaccountably and, sadly, unknowingly bleak for being without. In the time I have known you, you have grown to be such an important component of who I am, a thought that should, that does, hold the power to send me running, and yet, I would stay. I would stay for as long I’m allowed, as long as we have. You have given me the strength to become what I would never have expected, or dreamed, or dared, and my life will be forever the better for it. William, you are my first love, and for being that, ultimately, I happily owe all of my love to you. Forever.”
“Maladicta, I can't imagine what life would be without you. Which might seem somewhat disingenuous of me to say, because, obviously, I can't, my imagination isn't up to it even if it were possible to have any idea what such a drastic change would be like. But it's not, it is nothing less than the fundamental truth; I can't, because I don't want to. My mind shies from the very idea of it. Because I've come to realize that no matter where I am, what I'm doing, I want you to be there; no matter what happens, if I have you in my life, I have something worthwhile, something precious; the knowledge that, no matter what misfortune falls upon me - us - we'll meet it together, weather any storms and come out the other side wiser for them, because I can wake up every day and know that the truth is I love you. I loved you yesterday, I love you today, I will love you tomorrow, and every day after that. This is only as temporary as we are, and while that may be more temporary than you once would have expected, I hope to make it worth it. I'll certainly try, because that's what we are; trying, every day, to be better than the last. And I promise to you that that is what our lives will be.”
The vows were immediately followed by a tiny hiccup in the program as Maladicta leaned up to catch her still-fiancé’s mouth and bat Angua’s hand lightly away at the gentle reminder that they weren’t at that part, yet, before she put her heels on the ground again. Then there were some questions she had to repeat, some ‘take thee’s and such, and then Vimes made the pronouncement and she was being swept up. Or possibly she hand flung herself forward. It was essentially impossible to say, but at any rate, then it was that part and, for the first time, married, they kissed.
The walk to the stage was fun, receiving congratulations and chatting with their guests, ducking Angua with her little hand held moving-pictures recording device. Rather a success, all around.
1But pleasing racy, in that the bits of it that were lace were not so much frilly as they were subtly revealing and the bow was not so much effulgent and bridal as it was there for reasons of decency.
2Which was looking suddenly and exceptionally long.
3Now things were turning just a bit surreal.
4This was, in fact, a contributing factor toward the present circumstances.
[Reception at the stage! Food, beverages, music- gathering post! The happy couple would like to thank their friends and peers for joining them on this very special if wholly unlikely day.]