( OPEN ) | something borrowed, something blue

[indissection]

WHO: Byerly, Sidony and guests (everyone is invited)
WHAT: The best sham of a wedding Thedas has ever seen
WHEN: Now
WHERE: the Toad and Flagon
NOTES: The Best Wedding Ever ft. a kidnapping

You are hereby invited to the wedding of Byerly Rutyer and Sidony Celogera Allegra Venaras. The venue is not quiet nor is it beautiful; the gambling hall is loud and intense, with all kinds of smells and dirtiness to carry along with the strangeness of their wedding. There’s some attempt at draping, some attempt at making it look as though some kind of party is taking place here, but it certainly doesn’t look like there’s going to be a wedding at all. It’s hastily done, hastily put together, but at least it’s something, which is better than nothing. There’s about an hour until the wedding is due to start and both the bride and groom are getting ready - whatever that means to the two of them. Food is not provided. There are no drinks bought. There's a table for gifts to one side, with a little plaque with their names on. Prostitutes and gamblers wander between the aisles and chairs, laughing and making jokes with one another, completely avoiding setting the scene of a proper wedding.

Comments

[bouchonne]

Is that all? No shock? No horror? It's a little dismaying, when you find out you're not nearly the terror you thought you were. He ought to be getting gasps in return for that secret, people clutching at their chests to find out that Byerly Rutyer isn't a useless fool after all...Ah, well. It's Sidony.

"It's more than just - taking me from you," he murmurs. A breath in - "This work is work that might demand my life someday. Notime soon, I hope, but - comely widowhood may lie in your future." He offers a small twitch of a smile. "But do not worry, my dear; I will fail to provide for you in death no less than I will have failed to provide for you in life."

[indissection]

There is a little shock, she can admit to that - the flicker of her eye, the way she deliberately kissed him to hide her confusion, her wonder, how her hands trace down his body to take his, squeezing his fingers. Sidony is, however, a master of hiding who she is and what she wants to do. She treats herself as a closed book, all the better for keeping her own secrets and using the secrets of others against them.

This is one secret she does not wish to abuse, however. Not after all that Byerly has done for her.

"Comely?" Her lips curl up into a gentler smile and she shakes her head, drawing him down so that she can tuck her face into his shoulder, her arms around his neck, her body close to his. Intimate, but familial - she loves him but has no desire for him. "I will wear the most darling black at your funeral, my dear, and weep openly for the loss of my most wonderful and loving husband. I shall even wait a week before appearing to char another."

She hopes, naturally, that he does not die any time soon - she's not sure her heart could take it. Instead, she sighs softly. "I am proud of you, for all that you have done and all that you will do."

[bouchonne]

"Don't be absurd, dear Sidony," he says, reaching out to press her hand. "Nothing to be proud of. I do it for a spot of money and a desire for mischief-making; that's all. It's astonishing, just how much trouble one can cause in a position like that."

And he's getting married for the money, and for the scandal. And he left home because he was hurled out for being such a ne'er-do-well. And, and, and. The key to telling lies is to believe them wholeheartedly, at least in the moment. But it always seems rather absurd to lie to Sidony. Like it's the most fragile sort of playacting.

[indissection]

Beginning to read between the lines of how Byerly acts is something that Sidony has started to do in most earnest; he never quite says what he means, other than in his most vulnerable of moments, and they dance a merry game of almost truths and half-lies, smiling at one another and teasing the edges of their natures. What he says is that he does it for money and mischief; what she hears is that there is something more to it.

Just like their marriage. A scandal, for sure, a pure love match to some, money to others... But they know the truth. She cannot keep her hands away from him, from holding him close, wishing she could see more of this man: she does love him, she just simply does not love him the way the world imagines.

"You are quite the troublemaker, aren't you, darling?" A small smiles as she leans up, tiptoes high, to kiss his nose. "It's part of your charm, surely."