Chapter Text
Chapter 349
ANTONY’S POV
This was really happening. Antony had been planning it for almost a year, but he still couldn’t quite believe it. He was getting married.
Tonight.
In the end, he and Hanyu had decided to fuse their traditions. It would be a strange wedding, unlike anything either of their people had ever seen, but Antony suspected it wouldn’t be the last marriage of an elf and a human in the near future, not by a long shot.
Anyhow, it made it a little easier to have new traditions. His and Valerius’ wedding day would always be unique, the one and only time Antony had married entirely according to the ceremonies and traditions of his people. And his and Hanyu’s marriage, likewise, would be utterly unique.
He had his first wedding ring on him today, slipped onto his opposite hand. He also had a token from Sana, a religious icon they had bought in Krem because of their running joke that they were going to convert to a different religion every time Antony annoyed them.
And Marcus. He didn’t wear anything to honor that lost love. It would have been disrespectful to Hanyu and Asao both. But Antony carried Marcus inside him, in his flinches every time he saw the inky flash of obsidian, in the memory of how he’d bristled at the nickname ‘Annie’ and how now, so often, he would have given a limb to hear it one more time. Marcus would be with him today, too, and every day, just like the ones who Antony had loved better and who had been better for him. His heart didn’t know any other way.
When it came to Valerius and Sana, at least, Hanyu had given his blessing for the tokens.
“Of course you should include Val and Sana!” he’d cried when Antony timidly raised the question. “Maybe it’s silly, but I like to think they’re rooting for us. Anyway, the fact that you’re still in love with them means you’ll stay in love with me forever, and someday if you marry someone else, I’d like to think that he’ll agree to have you carry a token from me.”
That hadn’t been exactly what Antony wanted to hear, but he’d appreciated Hanyu’s permission nevertheless.
In truth, he hadn’t quite given up on the idea of the two of them staying together. He’d approached Hanyu about that months ago.
“Sweetheart?” he’d asked, stomach clawing at his throat with nerves. “I’ve just been thinking that Asao proves we don’t really know shit about magic. Especially once we start sharing the secrets of our blood- of elf blood- with the rest of the world, we don’t know what will happen or what might be developed.”
“Yes,” Hanyu had said, blinking at him, clearly not following.
“And… if someone develops a cocktail of spells that are like the vampire curse…” Antony had taken several long breaths he didn’t need, then plunged ahead, speaking very quickly. “It would be different. Probably they wouldn’t include anything about drinking blood or avoiding the sun. The most likely version would be something to freeze people’s bodies in place, like what happened to us, hair and scars and all. But if someone made something like that… would you want it?”
It wasn’t much of a chance. But Antony had to admit, he needed that little bit of hope. Provided Hanyu was willing to consider it, of course. If he wasn’t, Antony would let the idea go forever.
Hanyu had gawped for a moment, speechless.
“Oh gods,” he managed at last. “To be turned into a demigod? Could that happen? I guess it could, since it happened to you- wow. That’s so strange! Gods and people have always been so completely different, but I guess now with Asao, maybe not as different as we used to be, huh? Wow. I never…” He’d paused. “It’s a new idea, I guess. But if someone could make me live longer, so I could be with you and see everything and go everywhere and not break your heart, and if you wanted me to… yes, I think I’d want that, Antony. But please, I want to know you’ll be all right if something like that doesn’t happen.”
Antony would. He’d promised Hanyu then, and he promised himself again now. He had strong relationships with a loving, tight-knit community, with his siblings and friends. He had a vision of the world to work towards. He intended to treasure Hanyu with the understanding that their time together was limited, and to honor him by moving forward if the time did come when they had to say goodbye.
But still, he allowed himself that little seed of hope.
“Blue seems like such a weird choice for a wedding,” Titus grumbled as he helped straighten Antony’s robes.
“It’s just a color,” Theo shot back. She was lounging in an overstuffed chair watching- or, as she put it, supervising- while the rest of them fussed with his getup. “No stranger than white. It’s just different from what we’re used to.”
Honestly, Antony wished he could have seen Hanyu in the simple marital white of his own people, but there was no denying that the bright red and precious metals and stones of a Tacian bridal outfit was all much more to Hanyu’s taste. Antony, too, had accepted the traditional blue of a Tacian spouse.
In that, their traditions were similar. For purposes of inheritance and such, there was always one partner who married into the other’s family, one who was meant to be provided for. The other partner welcomed the bride and vowed to provide for them. The hierarchy between the two seemed to be more deeply ingrained in Tacian culture, but by all accounts it had relaxed significantly over the years.
Hanyu, of course, was doing his utmost to present his role in as subordinate a manner as possible.
Antony didn’t understand his bride-to-be’s desire to be beneath him, but he’d stopped trying to push him on the matter. Everyone knew that Hanyu had Antony wrapped around his little finger anyway.
His finger…
“Have you ever noticed that Hanyu’s littlest finger on his left hand is a bit crooked?” he asked dreamily. “Isn’t it cute?”
Titus groaned. “Stop it! I listened to the Hanyu rhapsodies when I was catatonic, but I can move my legs now and I will walk away from you.”
“Oh, come on,” Claudia said loyally. She was arranging his hair into some fancy looping braided monstrosity, woven with flowers. “It’s their wedding day! If he’s not allowed to gush about Hanyu today, then when?”
“Never. He used up his lifetime allotment when I couldn’t defend myself.”
“If you don’t behave, we’ll tell Lina,” Antony teased.
Titus scowled, but shut up.
“Antony?” Theo stood up from her chair and pulled out a cloth-wrapped package she’d been hiding behind it. “The three of us brought you something.”
Her suddenly serious tone made him focus in, meeting her eyes in the mirror they had him stood up in front of. “What is it?”
She unwrapped the package and pulled out a snowy marriage cloak. It had a tall collar, stiff with gold embroidery, which was repeated around the hem. Looking closer, he could see that the embroidery depicted moonlilies intertwined with flowers from his homeland.
This was the sort of thing he’d worn at his first wedding. The sort of thing he’d always imagined wearing when he married. It would look funny with the Tacian robe, but he couldn’t have cared less.
Antony found himself unexpectedly choked up. “It’s… it’s beautiful. Thank you all.”
“You will have to listen to Festus bragging about how his Taiki made it, but we figured that’s an acceptable tradeoff.” Theo smiled and settled it around his shoulders. “There you go.”
“There’s also these.” Titus reached into his pocket and pulled out a pile of bracelets, flashing with jewels. “Listen, before you take them, there’s something you need to know.”
“When you threw away the robe your father gave you, Hanyu told me,” Theo said. “And I took the liberty of salvaging the jewels.”
“It’s not that we think you’d want a token from him, or to honor him in any way today,” Claudia put in hastily. “He was a fucking asshole and none of us miss him. But Theo thought… do you remember how pleased and proud Mother looked the first time she saw you in that robe? So we thought, she would look at you the same way today, and maybe…”
Her voice trailed off, but now Antony was crying in earnest, dammit.
He hadn’t had a token of Mother’s to wear. He’d arranged to have her portrait placed in the seat of greatest honor at the ceremony, but to have something like this, right next to his skin?
“Thank you,” he blubbered, and then they were all hugging, a single organism with half a dozen arms and legs, sharing memories from an age ago.
No one else could quite understand what this day meant to him. What memories and griefs were tied up in it, how far he’d come to reach it. Antony was fiercely grateful for his family.
“I love you,” he snarled, hating how every strong emotion made him sound furious.
But, like Hanyu, they didn’t seem to mind at all.
“We love you, too, Antony,” Claudia said mistily.
Titus patted his back reassuringly. “And we’ll be here for you when he leaves you at the altar after seeing the bowl you made him.”
Then there was laughter mixed with the tears, and they were painting his palms white, and Antony was reminded of something his mother had said at his first wedding, so many lifetimes ago.
“Weddings are about love,” she’d said, settling the giant flower crown on Valerius’ head. “Not just your love for each other, but all the love in your lives, in all the forms you receive it. Enjoy it, my darling sons.”
Then and now, Antony swore that he would.