Falling Skies

Fourty Three

I'm getting married today...

Or at least the closest thing this realm has to a wedding. This was never a part of life Ryder anticipated, a part of him always knowing he'd be dead before the time ever came. Yet today he basks in the sunlight that flows through grandiose windows, breathing in fresh summer air drenched in notes of earth and freedom. The sound of servants rushes around him, mingling with the chatter of royals and common folk that swarm the castle. It's a symphony of commotion, of hubbub that reminds him he's alive, that he's made it this far.

He lets out a deep breath, the servant hemming his sleeve gifting him an irritated glance from the tops of his eyes. Ryder had been instructed to the tailor's room at the first light of sun, Jax somehow beating him to the room with a playful grin and coffee cup in hand. Now they stand side by side, Jax unusually quiet as he watches the handmaiden draw her needle through his silky robes.

"Last time I was doing this I nearly died." He sheepishly chuckles though his nerves ring clear, copper skin flushed and amber eyes downcast. He chews on his tattooed knuckles before receiving a disapproving swat from the handmaiden, her face hidden by black veils though her annoyance beams through the opaque material.

Ryder doesn't answer, his own eyes cast towards the marble floor. He's already falling into the labyrinth of his own mind, his thoughts clamoring over one another as they race towards the forefront. For with the thought of Wren now comes the thought of December, a discomfort crawling through his intestines at the way they're now a pair in his mind.

The way that he isn't the only star anymore, that there was a choice, that this almost wasn't his wedding but his cousin's instead. Yet somehow, though these sickening thoughts rush him they carry with them no anger, no hurt or pain or disappointment. Rather a loss of words, a softened melancholy that peeks from beneath cream lids and swirls in umber eyes.

Ryder lets out a deep breath, fingers intertwining as he wrings his knuckles with nerves. Through the ajar door of the tailor's room he can make out that familiar frame. The brown mop of hair that walks next to a silver that towers above him with shoulders that shake with his oncoming laugh.

Ryder can only turn back to Jax, cashmere voice falling to a whisper as he silently asks the boy a question. A question that weighs heavy on his indecisive heart. A question that once burned jealousy into his soul with a white-hot brand yet now only smoke remains.

"Jax... what are you supposed to do when you love someone, and you want nothing more then for them to be happy. But for that to happen... you would have to make yourself miserable in the process?" His voice draws distant, a question too fragile for this world as his gaze falls upon his cousin with a weighted sigh.

December turns slightly, light flooding through an ajar door catching his attention as he walks through the corridors with Sasha at his side. As they turn the corner into the grand room, December stills, heart freezing as he takes in the room with wide eyes. The ceiling reaches towards the heavens, the room so large that half the kingdom fits inside. Men and women wander to their seats and the faces of royals stare into the room with the same state of wonder as the awestruck December.

His eyes trace the domed ceiling, washing over the saturated paintings of angels and skies that run along its surface, their colors bright and reflective from even this distance. His eyes follow the trails of silver, falling upon the marble figures that protrude from the columns that surround the walls. Their bodies emerge from the milky blocks but can't quite escape, the trunks of their bodies blending into the smooth marble as it transforms back to a column that runs the height of the room.

Darkened wood arches caress the ceiling, simmering yellow lights wrapped in deep ivy hanging from their beams. They cast the room into a warm glow that washes over their cheeks and drowns them in an artificial sunset. The room is split down the middle by a deep red carpet the color of spilled wine and mulled berries, golden threads decorating its tips and caressing its sides. The carpet stretches towards the front of the room, towards the three small steps and the raised platform adorned with flowers and green ivy.