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Thread: Til Death Do Us Part

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    Open Thread Til Death Do Us Part

    The morning of the royal wedding had arrived.

    'If I tell you, will you listen? Will you stay?
    Will you be here forever? Never go away..
    Never thought things would change, hold me tight.
    Please don't say again that you have to go.'

    She'd risen with a smile on her lips, tucked safely into strong arms and sleeping more securely than she had in recorded history. Her bliss had been short lived when she recalled what day it was, however. As the first grey hint of morning chased the darkness from the sky she was forced to face the days coming events and say goodbye to what she wanted most. Despite a slew of half-hearted, teasing protests, she knew he had to leave, but not before she'd made sure to roll around her satin sheets with him a few more times, wrapping herself in his presence, like a mantle she would never shed. Several kisses later he was gone from her sight, following the shadows as they retreated from the morning light. She had no fear of discovery. If Salem didn't wish to be seen, he wouldn't be. It was as simple as that.

    A bitter thought, I had it all, but I just let it go.
    Hold your silence, It's so violent, since you're gone..

    As the sky turned from slate to rose, her lady's maid, Lira, knocked discreetly on the door. Clearly even she had not seen the departure of the Prime Minister, or was wise enough not to mention it. Not that Lira would betray them, she was ever their faithful confidante. She also knew that this marriage was not what her lady wanted and wisely remained somber as she began the mornings preparations. Without morning sickness for once, Razielle bathed and sipped at some tea while her undergarments and stockings were laid out for her. After drying off and rubbing a light floral oil into her skin, she sat on the edge of her bed and began rolling the delicate silk stockings up her legs, which were then fastened by Lira to equally delicate lacy white garters, edged in pale violet roses. Next came the lacing of a corset to her slender frame as she stood before a gilded oval mirror, staring at her own reflection in stoic silence.

    The dress and veil remained, but she would wait until her Maid of Honor, Queen Adraudia, arrived to finish the ordeal. Other servants drifted in and out bearing trays of breakfast to tempt her, but she had no appetite. Politely declining them all she ceased hearing the knocks upon the door, just wishing that they could hurry up and get on with the whole thing..

    All my thoughts are with you forever, 'till the day we'll be back together.
    I will be waiting for you..


    (Lyrics - Bittersweet, Within Temptation)
    Last edited by Razielle Alastor; Aug 18th, 2008 at 09:18:37 PM.

  2. #2
    Elsehwere, Tristan Alastor was standing in front of a mirror, the place where his people were perhaps most comfortable of all. Though not a vain man by nature, even he could not deny himself some sense of pride as he looked into his reflection. The outfit he wore would be eclipsed by his bride's, as was Hapan custom, but it was regal nonetheless. It was something his father would have worn; not flamboyant but majestic, the true attire of a King.

    The thought filled him with equal parts pride and sorrow. He knew in his heart the very thing that his father before had known, that he would never be of any importance, not amongst the Hapan Court. There was still hope, however – hope that he could make a good life amongst the people of Onderon. Soon, he would be one of them. Would they accept him any more than the Court of the Consortium had? Everything felt so futile...

    With a sigh, he waved away the attendant who was helping him dress.

    “I... need some air. I'm going for a walk.”

    “But your Majesty-”

    “But nothing!”

    And with that, he was gone.

    A short while later, there was a knock upon Razielle's door, more forceful than most.

  3. #3
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    “With all due respect, sir, it's considered bad luck for the bride to take guests before the ceremony!”

    The guardsman stationed outside of the Princess Razielle's chambers grimaced. Partly because he knew what customs surrounded a marriage – hardly the sort of thing a soldier should be bragging about – but more so because he did not enjoy denying requests from the man stood before him. The guard stepped forwards, to block the doorway, but hesitated at the last moment. He knew, as most employees of the Palace did, it was not in his best interests to quarrel with Salem Ave.

  4. #4
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    Now seated, Razielle held still as her hair was twisted this way and that, different styles being tried to to determine which would be the most regal for a royal wedding, and which would go best with her gowns neckline and her veil. She could hardly care. When she complained of a chill, she'd been draped within the folds of a satin dressing robe. As comfortable as she could be, she submitted once more to the endless tugging upon her scalp. In the end, her mass of sable hair had been curled into bouncy ringlets, secured to one side with a wealth of diamond studded pins, and draped in an artful tumble over one pale shoulder.

    Leaning forward on the little padded seat, she began to dust her cheeks with a hint of color when the door from her outer chambers into her bedroom suddenly opened. Looking up in the mirror, she could not seem to help the little start of pleasure, when she saw exactly who it was that had braved the chaos of twittering ladies maids to see her. Her heart leapt instantly and she turned in the seat with a curious expression. She'd not expected to see him until later... right before he gave her away.

    "Prime Minister... what a pleasant surprise.", she said with a slight arch of one dark brow.
    Last edited by Razielle Alastor; Aug 18th, 2008 at 09:20:34 PM.

  5. #5
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    Though the ceremony wasn't due to start for some time yet, Salem was already dressed for the occasion. He wore the dark grey garb of an Onderonian noble, with a cloak of the royal colours – dark green and silver – tossed gallantly over one shoulder. Folding one arm behind his back, he bowed low and reverent.

    “Your Highness...”

    The maids blushed fiercely at the sight of it. One of them giggled then bit her lip, realizing her error. Salem rose to stand once more, squaring his shoulders proudly.

    “Pardon my interruption, but it is necessary that I speak to the Princess in private.”

  6. #6
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    Any of the staff that served the Princess knew that there was no arguing with her, when her mind was set upon something. All it took was a glance to Lira for the gaggle of maids to be chased from the room! Of course, there were those who had some very valid arguments on why the Princess meeting with the Prime Minister alone, and half dressed, scarce hours before her wedding to the Prince of Hapes, when the whole of Iziz knew of their former relationship, was poor idea. Not one of them so much as dared to utter a syllable though, and Lira! Bless her! She was already working on a rationalization, even as the doors were closing.

    "..last minute discussions of course! He's to be giving her away and there was no time for a rehersal! Besides, it has to be perfect! She's going to be the Princess of the Consort...", the door clicked shut, silencing the rest of the explanations for such a visit.

    Shaking her head in a bemused manner she switched her gaze from the closed door back to Salem. "Is something wrong?"

  7. #7
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    The door clicked closed and Salem silently exhaled a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding in. There was a long pause and although his eyes did not leave Razielle, his mind was briefly elsewhere, making certain that they were alone. Then, without a word, he crossed the distance between them and, quite unexpectedly, found himself down upon one knee in front of her.

    “Marry me.”

  8. #8
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    For a second there, Razielle was absolutely certain she was having some sort of dream. That she was still in bed from the night before, and that her mind was weaving together nonsensical wishes and desires she didn't dare think too much on during the abrasive day. She knew she wasn't breathing. She could feel her chest constricting painfullly with the held breath. Her hand lifted from her lap, her fingers adoringly drifted across his brow, down the side of his face.

    He...felt real.

    Razielle finally drew in a shakey breath, knowing that it was obvious she was trembling. She smiled a little crooked smile at him, not even noticing the single tear that slid down her cheek. The only outward sign of the exquisite torment of loving him enough to know that she had to go through with marrying Tristan, even if the idea was abhorrent to her. It was a means to an end, and what he wanted.. The keys to the Consortium and all it's vast assests. How could she possibly marry Salem now?

    It was an impossible request, of course, but who was she to argue with her master?

    She collected herself enough to try and respond, ready to voice a protest at his extremely ill timing, but when she opened her mouth to speak, her answer came out in a vehement whisper.

    "Yes..."
    Last edited by Razielle Alastor; Aug 18th, 2008 at 09:25:12 PM.

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    The corners of Salem's thin lips twitched and though he didn't smile – so typical of his restraint – there was something bold about his expression that spoke of the immense satisfaction he took from hearing Razielle's reply. Rising to stand, without having said a word, he held out one hand to her.

  10. #10
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    There was no way she could know what he was planning. Even so, she slid her hand into his without question. Curiosity, but complete trust in her eyes, and a slight smile on her lips.

    They could go right the hell out there and make a huge scandal and she wasn't sure she could be bothered to care. It was a lie of course, his interests were her interests. Whatever he was up to, she very much suspected it to be a subtle rearranging, rather than an chaotic upheval.

  11. #11
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    Mandalore had not been invited to the wedding. The Mandalorians were not quite true citizens of Onderon (though they had lived on the planet nearly as long as the others), and besides, Mandalore had better things to do than stand around like a decoration.

    Of course, De'Ville had nothing better to do. And so she was dressed in plain garb, following the Crown Prince of Hapes at a discrete distance as he left his quarters. There were a few people who had seen her without her helmet on, the Prince included, but they weren't likely to recognize her out of the armor. Her new master had given her permission to wander the castle whenever she liked, as long as she stayed out of sight.

    So, she was remaining just out of sight, but still she followed the Prince, using the Force to make sure he didn't get too far ahead. It wouldn't do for him to run off just before his wedding, after all.
    Last edited by Lilaena De'Ville; Aug 19th, 2008 at 10:25:30 PM. Reason: *her



    oh what a tangled web I weave


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    With a firm gesture, Salem drew Razielle to stand before him. In the moment that her hand joined with his, something began to change. The darkness that slumbered, concealed, within them began to awaken at Salem's bidding. As a Sith Lord, there were powers he commanded – old and monstrous rites – that not even his most trusted apprentices knew of, and it was one of these rituals that he called upon.

    As their hands pressed together, it felt as if something living – serpentine – was uncoiling between their palms. It wriggled and writhed and then suddenly, with a jolt of pain, it lashed out with a rope of pure shadow. The tendril snared the third finger on each of their hands, binding it in a burning-hot circlet that turned their flesh black as ash and made even Salem gasp, his features contorted in a mixture of agony and concentration.

    For a moment, it felt as if there would be no way of prying them apart, as if the two tenebrous rings, formed of the serpents twisted body, had locked their hands together forever in a bitter-sweet torment – but as quickly as it had come, the shadow receded. Divided into two, it slithered into their veins, down the length of their arms and beyond until it was gone, and the rings with it, leaving no trace of their existence, only a ghost of the pain they had caused...

  13. #13
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    The pain had been almost unbearable. Worse than the feel of a serrated blade tearing it's way into the tender flesh of her back, or any of the other injuries she'd sustained over her twenty years. Her body had rocked forward, onto her toes as the pain washed over her, from her ringfinger outward. She was sure that her thin digit would be seared right off, and then suddenly it abated.

    Mystified, Razielle looked up from their still joined hands, to meet Salem's eyes. It never stopped amazing her, the things he could do. Without understanding the mechanics of what had just been done, somehow she just knew. She could feel it now, the connection between them had just been amplified a thousand times over. There was no doubt in her as to why. Come what may, they were one now, in such a way as a scarce handful of souls could understand. It didn't matter what name she took, or where either of them went, they would be together in each others blood now..forever..

    She drew in a breath and released it, a sigh of contentment really. Her fingers twitched, almost experimentally as if she expected the sudden buring pain to return, though it didn't..

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    The rise and fall of Salem's chest showed just how much the binding had taken out of him, each breath long and slow. His gaze was fixed on the point where the shadow had encircled his skin. A slow smile began to curve onto his lips, and his eyes darted up to meet Razielle's, the death-head of Callidus rippling across his features. They were bound as one now, inextricably, by the dark mark. Neither one could live without the other.

    “To death and beyond, Anxia.”

    Squeezing her hand tightly within his, Salem drew her near and claimed her lips in a fierce kiss. Somewhere beyond the walls of the Princess's chambers, a bell rang out, loud and low. It drew Salem out of the kiss with a sigh of frustration, though his hand did not leave hers yet, as if they were still chained by the strange power.

    “I have to go..”

  15. #15
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    "I know..", she smiled a little.

    He had given her so much already. This last act had been unexpected and truly the stuff of dreams. She was deliriously happy. Any reservations that still lingered, any misgivings that she may have still had regarding her upcoming 'marriage' were just blown away. In the hollow created by their absence, she'd been filled with a feeling of absolute pride and certainty of her future. Their future. She had no fear, not anymore.

    "Tonight..", she promised, whispered like a purr, against his ear. Before she could let him go, as he must, Razielle stole his lips in another long, lingering kiss with her entire soul in it. Regretfully, their palms at last began to slide apart, fingers touching until the last possible moment, and then he was gone.

    Grinning like a fool, she returned to the seat before the mirror, just as her attendants had left her. She examined her hand, turning it this way and that. There was no visible sign of the shadowed ring, but even so, she could feel it, and a secret smile played about her lips.

    When the staff began to creep back in one at a time, following behind Lira, Razielle turned and smiled, looking as radiant as any bride should on her wedding day! "Well...? Where did the breakfast go? I'm famished..."

  16. #16
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    Adraudia appeared behind Lira, who was scowling, with a platter of fruit, cheese, coffee and bread. The Queen was amused and insisted that she carry the food, for once, to cheer her friend up. She had thought the image amusing, but now her Majesty felt it was unnecessary.

    She had greeted Salem as he departed from Razielle's room, quite pleased with himself. Adraudia would dare say he was genuinely happy without any ulterior motives, as was his usual demeanor. And now Razielle was beaming with glee. This situation would have to be investigated more thoroughly later for it was quite outside the norm.

    "Breakfast is served, your highness." Adraudia chuckled and set the platter down so she could smooth out her dress. Since Razielle was going violet, Adraudia had decided upon a complimentary color of green - a lively green that matched the dangerous forest of the Wilds beyond the safe wall of Iziz. But for all practical purposes, they looked the same, minus the veil. It was Adraudia's way of symbolizing their friendship that they would be going through with this fiasco together.

  17. #17
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    Forgoing her normal morning routine of coffee, Razielle waved it away in favor of some gently steeped tea and a piece of fruit, both of which she set aside as she popped up from her seat to greet the Queen.

    Sketching a comedic little curtsey at the tray-bearing Queen, Razielle smiled like a woman who had everything she wanted, despite the imminent ceremony. Even Lira seemed a bit perplexed at the sudden change in her.

    "Good morning, Majesty!", she beamed, before pressing a kiss to her sovereign's cheek. "It's a lovely day for a wedding, don't you think?"

  18. #18
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    Adraudia quirked a brow after the peck and crossed her arms after Razielle snatched the tray from her hands. Lira leaned over so that she could peered at the Queen with the same incredulous look as if the Princess had gone mad.

    Lira motioned with her hand, circling a finger around her ear and shook her hands behind Razielle's back, utterly baffled.

    "Well," she looked outside and nodded, "It is a splendid day indeed." She came around and sat down at the edge of the couch. "You seem to be taking this rather well all of a sudden."

  19. #19
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    "Noticed that, did you?", she grinned in a secretive manner.

    "You look beautiful.", she smiled, genuinely.

    "I'm sure I know a certain party who will demand a dance or several from you. You tell the rest of the court to begone, hear? I have grand designs on which way to toss my bouquet later.", she turned to the Queen with a wink.

    Her eyes fell upon her wedding dress. Time was growing short, she'd have to put the thing on eventually. Shrugging out of her robe, clad in just her undergarments Razielle approached the bed, where the crinoline that would go beneath the gown waited. Before stepping into the monstrous thing, her leg was claimed by Lira to secure the traditional bridal garter around her thigh.

  20. #20
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    The Queen choked on some cheese. "Spare me the pity. You needn't toss me anything to placate the Court. Just the fact they know I have interests has allowed me some peace and quiet."

    She watched Lira help Razielle into the garter and chuckled. "Next you'll be telling me that Tristan will be throwing that directly to my good Captain."

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