Esha looks over at her husband. She's gotten used to how strange his questions can be by now, it's part of accepting that he quite literally is not who he used to be. Still, this one catches her by surprise.
"I admit, I was expecting my wedding to be quite different both times I was betrothed," Esha confesses. "Even when one accepts that assassins are a possibility at any moment, they try to hope that they don't show up."
"Yeah," the emperor sighs, staring off into the distance. "Though that's not quite what I mean."
"What do you mean, then?"
"Well..." he trails off, lost in thought. "Never mind, I don't know how to put it into words."
"If this is about consummation-" Esha starts. She has given the matter quite a bit of thought, though she's not entirely sure she's ready for it yet.
"Nonono!" her husband's flustered expression immediately reveals it's the furthest thing from his mind. "Can you- can you tell me what you were expecting from your wedding?"
Esha nods. "Well, you and I- mmm, we don't need to discuss that, do we?"
Her husband shakes his head mutedly. Bringing a dagger to the wedding bed said more than words ever could.
"Your first wedding," he says. "That one sounds less depressing."
There's a hint of jealousy in his voice. Esha takes pleasure in it, though she wishes that he and Arketh would resolve their differences soon. She'd rather her two great loves understand that she adores them equally, if not identically. But oh, it feels good to be loved.
Tilting her head back, Esha folds her hands in her lap and shuts her eyes. As a child, this was one of her favorite daydreams.
"There was a great deal of discussion on whether the ceremony would be done in the Samrddhi or Unseelie style," she began. "We hadn't worked out yet whether it would be officiated by a priest of the Thousandfold Path or the Old Ways, though Arketh offered to convert. Still, it would be hosted in my family's palace, so we'd have partaken in many of our traditions."
"Like what?" her husband asks softly.
"Jasmine flowers lining the way to the ceremony," Esha can see it so clearly in her head. "The Lord of Love adores jasmine. It's always a shame, seeing so many blossoms disappear from my garden when a wedding takes place. But it brings good fortune to the married couple."
When she was no higher than an adult's hip, she'd scrambled around on the floor of weddings trying to pick up petals to save them from being crushed. Part of her thought that the Lord of Love might bring extra fortune to the newlyweds if less jasmines were trampled on, but the majority of her had simply wanted to preserve that frail beauty of theirs, already withering away despite the ages it had taken to grow them.
"There'd be musicians, of course," she continues. "Oh, they can work such marvels on stringed instruments. I wish you could hear it for yourself. And singing and dancing, of course."
Esha's given to understand that song is holy for both their nations' respective religions. If left to her own devices, she might never have come to that conclusion, for the hymns of Arcadium are often cold, stark things. They can speak to passion, yes, but that of subjugation. The Lord of Art had given people music so they might enjoy it together, not partake in it as a chore. If nothing else, she wanted her husband to hear the music of Samrddhi so he might know the same joy as her.
"Do people tie their arms together there?" he asked gently.
One of the rituals she'd experienced at her eventual wedding. "No. That would ruin the paint."
"Paint?" Esha opened her eyes to see him tilting his head inquisitively.
"Yes, before the wedding there's a certain amount of paint that the bride and the groom put on. It's the duty of their parents to help them. For the women, they have patterns all over their forearms. The men's varies between traditions. Most of them leave the face consistent, though."
"Oh?"
"The face must be left unblemished until the ceremony begins. Then the groom places a marker over his wife's forehead-" Esha pressed her thumb to where the paint would go. "-he marks her cheeks-" she stroked a finger over her husband's cheekbones. "-and finally her lips. Then she does the same for him."
As she ran her thumb over the emperor's lips, Esha became aware of his eyes on her own. In the process of explanation, they'd suddenly become quite close.
"That sounds beautiful," he said.
"Yes, it would've been."
For a moment, Esha lost herself in thought of the life she might've had. It was only for a moment, and then she remembered where she was and who she was with. Her thumb trailed down to her husband's chin, and she leaned in.
FILL: Team Magical Girls
Date: 2025-07-17 07:12 am (UTC)"Do you ever feel like we're not married?"
Esha looks over at her husband. She's gotten used to how strange his questions can be by now, it's part of accepting that he quite literally is not who he used to be. Still, this one catches her by surprise.
"I admit, I was expecting my wedding to be quite different both times I was betrothed," Esha confesses. "Even when one accepts that assassins are a possibility at any moment, they try to hope that they don't show up."
"Yeah," the emperor sighs, staring off into the distance. "Though that's not quite what I mean."
"What do you mean, then?"
"Well..." he trails off, lost in thought. "Never mind, I don't know how to put it into words."
"If this is about consummation-" Esha starts. She has given the matter quite a bit of thought, though she's not entirely sure she's ready for it yet.
"Nonono!" her husband's flustered expression immediately reveals it's the furthest thing from his mind. "Can you- can you tell me what you were expecting from your wedding?"
Esha nods. "Well, you and I- mmm, we don't need to discuss that, do we?"
Her husband shakes his head mutedly. Bringing a dagger to the wedding bed said more than words ever could.
"Your first wedding," he says. "That one sounds less depressing."
There's a hint of jealousy in his voice. Esha takes pleasure in it, though she wishes that he and Arketh would resolve their differences soon. She'd rather her two great loves understand that she adores them equally, if not identically. But oh, it feels good to be loved.
Tilting her head back, Esha folds her hands in her lap and shuts her eyes. As a child, this was one of her favorite daydreams.
"There was a great deal of discussion on whether the ceremony would be done in the Samrddhi or Unseelie style," she began. "We hadn't worked out yet whether it would be officiated by a priest of the Thousandfold Path or the Old Ways, though Arketh offered to convert. Still, it would be hosted in my family's palace, so we'd have partaken in many of our traditions."
"Like what?" her husband asks softly.
"Jasmine flowers lining the way to the ceremony," Esha can see it so clearly in her head. "The Lord of Love adores jasmine. It's always a shame, seeing so many blossoms disappear from my garden when a wedding takes place. But it brings good fortune to the married couple."
When she was no higher than an adult's hip, she'd scrambled around on the floor of weddings trying to pick up petals to save them from being crushed. Part of her thought that the Lord of Love might bring extra fortune to the newlyweds if less jasmines were trampled on, but the majority of her had simply wanted to preserve that frail beauty of theirs, already withering away despite the ages it had taken to grow them.
"There'd be musicians, of course," she continues. "Oh, they can work such marvels on stringed instruments. I wish you could hear it for yourself. And singing and dancing, of course."
Esha's given to understand that song is holy for both their nations' respective religions. If left to her own devices, she might never have come to that conclusion, for the hymns of Arcadium are often cold, stark things. They can speak to passion, yes, but that of subjugation. The Lord of Art had given people music so they might enjoy it together, not partake in it as a chore. If nothing else, she wanted her husband to hear the music of Samrddhi so he might know the same joy as her.
"Do people tie their arms together there?" he asked gently.
One of the rituals she'd experienced at her eventual wedding. "No. That would ruin the paint."
"Paint?" Esha opened her eyes to see him tilting his head inquisitively.
"Yes, before the wedding there's a certain amount of paint that the bride and the groom put on. It's the duty of their parents to help them. For the women, they have patterns all over their forearms. The men's varies between traditions. Most of them leave the face consistent, though."
"Oh?"
"The face must be left unblemished until the ceremony begins. Then the groom places a marker over his wife's forehead-" Esha pressed her thumb to where the paint would go. "-he marks her cheeks-" she stroked a finger over her husband's cheekbones. "-and finally her lips. Then she does the same for him."
As she ran her thumb over the emperor's lips, Esha became aware of his eyes on her own. In the process of explanation, they'd suddenly become quite close.
"That sounds beautiful," he said.
"Yes, it would've been."
For a moment, Esha lost herself in thought of the life she might've had. It was only for a moment, and then she remembered where she was and who she was with. Her thumb trailed down to her husband's chin, and she leaned in.