[OOM] The Amondsham-Telane Wedding.

[fluffiest_archadian]

It is a sorry bunch attending this wedding. The hall in Rabanastre palace where they sit is small, and there are still a handful of empty seats. Still, it's easy to tell who's who:

The garrison command, headed by a grey-haired man who gives off a grandfatherly aura, in their grey and red formal dress, along with a man and a woman dressed similarly, save that their uniform is black and charcoal with red highlights. There's a handful of soldiers who clearly aren't Archadian, too, dressed in blue and cream.

Rabanastre's merchants, dressed in a brightly coloured mismatch of patterned fabrics with hair styled elaborately and jewellery on their wrists and around their necks.

Nobles and ambassadors, by far the smallest of the group, in coloured (but not quite so neon rainbow) silk and wool. Several of them have fans. Most of them are muttering about how Liana is marrying beneath her station (and one so old). One family of four, dressed in canary yellow cloaks fashioned to look like feathers, just look charmed to be there, bar one young man who looks like he's trying to sink into his clothes and avoid the gaze of the garrison.

Business associates of the groom, who if the muttering from others is anything to go by may be celebrities. A few of them are jolly, older people, but most of them look like supermodels who have just stepped off the catwalk.


The wedding is - awkward. A man in very smart clothing with very shiny glasses runs through a set of vows, while the groom (whose shapeless robes really only accentuate the fact that he's about twenty years the senior of his bride) looks apathetic and the bride (of far more fashionable dress) looks distantly scathing, as if she's biting back about a hundred sarcastic comments.

When they are told they may kiss, the peck each other. On the cheeks. Like seagulls whose hearts aren't quite in it.


---

The reception takes place in Rabanastre Palace's expansive ballroom, a room that is opulent and glittering and has walls lined with frescoes depicting the glorious history of Dalmasca in charmingly abstract style.

There is a buffet. It has something very much like turkish delight on one end, but the yellow-cloaked family are converging on it and soon this won't be the case.

Sherral leads his visitors in with the garrison command and their guests.

"No stealing from anyone, no letting on about the magical bar, no killing anyone outside of mutually agreed upon duels," Sherral says. "Apart from that, enjoy yourself. If you see a security concern, Captain Beor," he gestures over at a large man in his twenties, "will no doubt be happy to hear of it."

Beat.

"Have fun."

Comments

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

"Excellent," Autor says, and scans the guests. "How fare the bride and groom? They look like they really hate each other already."

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"With luck, neither of them were suffering under the idea that a rushed political marriage was going to be a particularly happy event," Sherral says.

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

The boy shakes his head. "Shame, that," Autor says, picking at the edges of his sleeve as if its a favored, frayed blanket. "Is there anyone you think I should talk to, or should I pester the garrison commander?"

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"You're welcome to pester anyone you want, lad," Sherral says, giving Autor a light tap on the arm with two fingers. "Aught reason you want to talk to Ronick, though?"

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

Autor shrugs. "Him, like all of the people here, is in some position of power. He seems like he'd be an interesting interview," Autor explains. "But I don't have to embarrass myself in front of him with knowledge I shouldn't have."

The boy grins. "I could always chat up the bride or groom."

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

Sherral laughs. "That you could. Take your pick."

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

"Hm. Paying my respects to the newlyweds seems unwise at the moment," Autor says, eyeing the contentious bride upbraiding a servant. "And Commander Ronick might eat me alive faster than the bride. Who are those two soldiers in black and red?"

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"Judges, of the second tier ranks," Sherral says. "Here as representatives of Judge Magister Zargabaath and Judge Magister Gabranth, who couldn't be here, and probably wouldn't want to be if they could."

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

"Oh, goodness, I didn't realize that this wedding was important enough to attract the attention of the Judges--or, rather, their representatives," Autor says, adjusting his glasses. "I think I'll go say hello to Major Ronick. Perhaps ask him how the campaign to handle the riots in Rabanastre is going."

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"Aught involving Rabanastre is important enough for that," Sherral says. "By all means. Don't worry, he doesn't bite."

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

The boy nods, and turns to make his way over to Major Ronick. "Call on me if you find yourself in need of a distracting presence."

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"Aye, I will."

Major Ronick is keeping noticeably close to Amondsham - enough of a distance not to intrude, but close enough that he can rush over if necessary, and clocks Autor as he approaches.

He crooks a hand to beckon him closer. "Are you enjoying yourself, young man? I hear the wine is very nice, even if I've no stomach for it anymore."

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

And frankly, Autor is surprised by the grandfatherly gesture, though he's sure Ronick would tackle him to the floor or gut him if Autor proved a threat.

"I've not the stomach for wine myself, sir," he admits, inclining his head to both of them. "But I do confess I'm having a grand time. Autor, a scholar, at your service. I've come at the invitation of Captain Maduin."

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"Ah, yes, the garrison's many spare invitations," Ronick says, with some amusement. "I should make sure to be on my best behaviour with you, then. I suspect Sherral is still at least a little bitter over my handy escape from being best man, I would hardly want to offend him again."

He tilts his head. "What is it you study, Autor?"

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

"As I'm sure you're aware of, Captain Maduin will undertake any duty given to him, sir," he says, though whether Sherral is justifiably bitter about that duty is unspoken. Then Autor lowers his voice to a conspiratorial level, favoring Ronick with a quick grin. "But between you and me, I suspect he's bored here."

The boy straightens his shoulders at Major Ronick's question. "The effects of Mist on the people of Ivalice, sir," he answers, "but also anything I can come across. If I might ask a question, sir? How goes the campaign to manage the riots in Rabanastre?"

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"Oh, I am aware," Ronick chuckles. "When I was his age, I would not have been too interested by such an event either. Nowadays I enjoy a few hours of not having men pester me with reports. And I bring toffees, which makes me extremely popular."

He lifts an eyebrow just slightly at Autor's mention of his field of study. "That might explain how you know Sherral, then." He pauses, and plucks a toffee out of his pocket, unwrapping it carefully. "The ringleaders have been taken to Nalbina. I believe Captain Beor is releasing the majority of those who remain in his gaols, with warnings and marks on their records."

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

"I approve of this method to make you popular, sir," Autor says, his soft grin widening. "Very wise."

The boy adjusts his glasses, logging away his comment about Sherral. "So it's all taken care of, then. I have heard rumors of another war recently, sir, and I was wondering if you could put them to rest for me."

This is a lie; Autor has heard no such thing.

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"Archadia and Rozarria are still at peace, if that's what you mean," Ronick says easily. "We have Rozarrian soldiers mingling amidst our number today, even, peacefully."

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

"Ah, you mean the soldiers in blue and cream?" Autor asks, and nods. "I'm glad to hear that, sir, thank you. So everything has settled after Lord Vayne has been recalled?"

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

Ronick's eyes narrow just a shade. "His recall was very unfortunate, as were the unpleasant events that followed. Consul Amondsham is very well-suited for the role, though. I'm certain he'll enjoy many successful years as consul."

Beat.

"Would you like a toffee, young man? I didn't offer before."

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

And Autor catches that, was counting on it. Interesting.

"Why, thank you, sir," the boy says, inclining his head. "I would appreciate a toffee. And I wish Consul Amondsham luck at his post, and now happiness." Autor gestures around at the wedding.

"If I may ask, how long have you been the commander of the garrison, sir?"

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"Since it was formed three years ago," Ronick says, passing over a toffee. "I was at Nalbina when we took it, and when King Raminas was assassinated. At war's end, I requested transfer to the garrison as its commander. It seemed time for a quieter role, after all: I'm not exactly full of youthful energy any more."

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

Autor unwraps the toffee and pops it into his mouth with a grateful nod. "And has it been a quiet run thus far? As quiet as can be expected, rather."

Re: Autor.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"Quiet enough," Ronick chuckles. "I have excellent captains under my command, which surely helps."

Re: Autor.

[herr_bookman]

"I'll be sure to let Captain Maduin know that you think so," the boy says, grinning again. "He told me about the increase in troops that the garrison saw recently. Was that a difficult adjustment?"